I was tired when we arrived in Lisbon, so had a nap in our very comfortable hostel room, as Karen went out to explore. We found some lovely things (scarves, earrings, etc) for sale and I found a doll for my young friends Rosie and Dieunnie--a bit too small for them yet, but their mother can hold onto it for them until they're old enough. Then we walked along the waterfront, through a slightly sketchy area towards the restaurant we wanted to eat at. After much wandering and map-reading, we found it, but discovered that it was not open until 8:30 (we had arrived at 7:15). So we walked down the path we had walked up, bought some drinks, and found the metro station. We had considered the bus, but a friendly local told us not to take it--"You'll never get there!" We took a few photos down by the waterfront and then retraced our steps up the slippery cobbled stairs to the fado restaurant.
It was a lovely meal. To begin, we had a deep-fried fish/vegetable snack with bread and butter. Then I had 5 pieces (!) of pork loin with potatoes, onions, and flavoured rice with sausage in it. Karen had medium steak with fried egg and chipped potatoes. As I had way too much food, and Karen wasn't wild about her steak, we traded meals halfway through. As to the music, fado is a type of music that is typically mournful and is frequently characterized by themes about the life of the poor or the sea. There was a guitarist and a Portuguese guitarist (I had to look it up to find out what this other stringed instrument was) as well as two female singers who alternated singing. So there were about 20 minute sets in which everyone put their forks and knives down and listened to the music in between which they'd turn the lights up and resume serving. Karen and I appeared to be the only people there who didn't speak Portuguese, and frequently most of the gathered assembly would join in for the chorus of a familiar song. It was neat to be part of, though it was also the greatest language barrier we faced during the whole trip as we didn't speak Portuguese and they didn't speak English.
The next morning, we had breakfast at Lisbon Story Guesthouse. It really was a lovely place to stay, with an inviting common room with lots of cushions to sit on--just so long as you're young enough to get back up again! The staff were really helpful and even let me print something off without charging for it.
After breakfast, we headed to the Santa Justa Lift, a tower that enabled us to get a nice view of Lisbon. Then we met Ali, a Senegalese man who had friends in Montreal. He was delighted to talk to us, and offered us necklaces--valued at 15 euros each (Karen got an amber one, I got one with a blue stone whose name I don't remember) --within ten minutes of meeting us. We reluctantly took them and turned to say goodbye. As we walked away, he asked us if we could give him some money to help him feed his family. We offered the necklaces back but he was absolutely insistent that we take them, even if we didn't give him anything in return. So I dug 6 euros out of my change purse and we said goodbye. We took Tram 28, an old heritage tram with wood-pannelled walls inside through the hills of Lisbon, the old town. I loved seeing all the Portuguese tiles decorating the outside--and inside--of buildings. Here's a sampling.
After lunch, we walked toward the harbour for a boat ride. We asked an information person where we could go on a short boat ride and she suggested St. Charles Islands. However, when we got to the station, there was no St. Charles listed anywhere. No schedule was printed anywhere and the agents spoke no English. So we finally got on a boat going to Barreiro, that was supposed to be a half-hour ride. We got to a harbour that said San Bento after about 20 minutes and proceeded to sit there for about ten minutes. We finally decided that if it was going to take so long to get to Barreiro, we'd better just jump off here, wherever we were, and have a look around before finding a boat back to our hostel. So we got off the boat and then discovered that the Barreiro train station was just behind the boat station. As it turned out there wasn't much of anything at Barreiro except a train station, we quickly returned to the boat area and picked up the next boat back to Lisbon.
After a quick supper close to our hostel, I grabbed my things to go to the airport. (Karen was leaving the following morning at 8 am. ) We went down to the street so I could catch the airport bus and it arrived almost as soon as we did. Since they took cash only, I paid, gave Karen my remaining euros (she was running low on cash) and quickly said goodbye.
One minute down the road, I realized that I didn't have one bag...Karen had thoughtfully carried it for me and when we hurriedly said goodbye, I forgot to take it from her. I thought about what was in it--a few souvenirs, a bit of food, some books for the plane, my trip journal, and my airline ticket and Gatwick Express ticket (for returning home to London late that night) and quickly decided that it wasn't worth it to me to go back. I knew from previous experience that I could fly just by showing my passport, and I had my reservation number for the train ticket stored on my mobile phone. And since neither of us had enough cash left to take another bus/taxi to the airport without withdrawing more cash if I got off the bus now, I thought I'd just let Karen take my bag home with her.
So I got to the airport, and suddenly thought that given my late flight--I was scheduled to land at Gatwick at 11:30-- and the fact that I no longer had my carry-on bag--that it would be quicker if I just took my knapsack as a carry-on. So I went through security and had my jam from Avignon confiscated--no, I hadn't thought about that being a liquid--and proceeded to look for a crossword book to replace the one I had left with Karen. Just as I was returning to my lounge to await takeoff, I had a call from my mother saying that Karen had come to the airport with my bag and was waiting for me near Gates 37-43. This was around 8:25, and my plane had originally been slated to depart at 9:00, but now it was delayed an hour. So I tried to get back out of security, and had problems with the staff, who didn't want to let me back out and who also made me dump out my bag several times to show them the toothpaste in my bag that kept setting off the alarm system. When I was feeling absolutely frustrated and ready to give up and forget the stupid bag, I finally ran into an agent who helped me. He asked me to describe Karen and then found her. He took me through a staff-only passageway so that I could--without leaving security--accept the bag from Karen. She was standing on one side of a wall that was a bit higher than waist-level and I was standing on the other side. She handed over the bag and I said goodbye again and went on to my gate.
The flight was more than an hour delayed, so it was about 12:40 by the time we got into Gatwick. Knowing that the last train from Gatwick was at 12:30 and that the Tube shuts down at 1:00 am, I knew that I had two choices...pay a fistful of money for a taxi home, or sit on night buses for a six-hour journey home. I chose the painful option of 106 pounds for a taxi. I guess at that time of night, there are only the large van taxis available, no cheaper minicabs, and where I'm living now is out in Zone 6, rather than Zone 4 as Barking was. So we drove to Romford, but because the cab driver wasn't familiar with Chase Cross and the GPS wasn't registering my address since it's a new residential area, he finally dropped me off in Romford. So I caught another cab home for another 10 pounds.
Thankfully when I got to my new house, the key worked and I found all my things waiting for me. To bed about 2:30. So I had an exciting/stressful end to a very memorable trip around Europe.
Hurrah... it all worked out for you in the end... and the key to your new home worked too! That would have been a bummer if it had not!
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