August 20, 2011

Dear Diary,

I'm sorry it's been a while. I've neglected my duties and traded them in for a life of lazing about.

Lagos was, as expected, incredibly beautiful. The town itself compromises of lots of little cobbled walkways loomed over by whitewashed walls adorned with patterned ceramic tiles. It has a distinctly beach town feel about it and is overpopulated at this time of year by tourists (mainly Aussies), but don't let that turn you off.

The night life is wild, with every venue luring you into their lair with promise of a free shot with each drink, which carries on until dawn. The food is cheap, and there are a significant amount of restaurants offering just caught seafood for a fraction of the price you would pay anywhere else.

But most importantly, the beach is phenomenal.

Clearly the drawcard for me, Lagos is home to a series of rock faces (cliffs) that have been naturally carved away by the sea to leave little secluded bays, all relatively interconnected. You can imagine the delighted child-with-a-new-toy vigour with which I approached the exploration of these!

Taking my little yellow waterproof kayak bag (with another little waterproof bag containing my not so waterproof camera), I left my room-mates basking on the sand (yes- beautiful, soft, golden sand at long last!) while Lola Croft ventured off into the unknown. I found myself clambering beneath eroded archways, swimming out through caverns, belly gliding above jagged rocks only millimetres below me and rock climbing/abseiling certain roped walls to stroll the intermittent stretches of quicksand beach. Yes, I had discovered Utopia.

Through the door to wonderland

On another occasion I took an early evening hike (to avoid the heat of day) along the cliff top walk. It's approximately 6km which I wasn't quite aware of when I began, and feasting on the scenery here I lost track of time. When I realised that I had still a third of the distance to go and the sun was drastically setting, what did I do? I should have quickened my pace, but caught up in nonchalant holiday mode I instead decided to take some killer sunset photography from my vantage point.

It's now twilight and it is becoming difficult to see ahead of me. Did I mention that this is an “At your own risk” cliff walk with no railings and the threat of buffeting winds?

Fortunately the wind was at tea with a friend on this occasion, but the darkness was making it difficult to identify the stick drawn path leading me to safety and civilisation. Two German girls with which I had been alternating the lead had stopped up ahead of me, and together we combined our triple instincts to navigate mother nature's traps.

Finally we see the lights of Luz glimmering in the darkness ahead! The cliff has ended abruptly so we search around for the path down. There isn't one. Somewhere a few hundred metres back we must have taken the wrong turn... Calculating the distance in our heads quickly we decide to tackle the 30degree decline down the cliff instead, and so, under the guidance of moonlight, we begin our descent. With lots of shale and a long way to roll, concentration was high- the wrong footing could be perilous! We reached the end (all three of us still in one piece) and celebrated with yips of joy and high fives. When I finally made it back to Lagos about 10:30pm (5hrs later!), my room mates were very relieved to see me and I had an exciting tale to divulge. What a fabulous adventure!

From the cliff top walk

Seclusion

Sunset photography

 Darkness descends

Recommendations:

- Cliff walk to Luz

- Kayak around the grottoes if you don't want to explore on foot, Lola Croft style!

- Pension Sol a Sol for accommodation. (It's a step up from your usual hostel with more hotel facilities and Carlos who worked there bent over backwards to help me.)

- Find MJ's Bar on Travessa Sra de Graca, just off April 25th Street. (Marilyn is a fire cracker of a woman serving delicious cocktails at ridiculously low prices. We went there every night!)

August 14, 2011

Dear Diary,

So much to report! Yesterday I had a lunch date with Pedro, the owner of Johnnie's Place (hostel where I've been staying). I had promised to cook us lunch and in return he was going to introduce me to some local treats. Firstly we went to the nearby flea market to table hunt for the Shisha corner- this market was HUGE and covered streets and corners with locals selling their new and mostly used goods. Next, Pedro took me to a cafe up the road from the hostel where I had my first Portuguese Mojito (it is made with white port and it is....mmmm, so good). While there I noticed customers at the neighbouring tables all ordering coffee, which prompted me to mention to Pedro that I hadn't yet tasted Portuguese coffee. Well! Immediately two little espressos arrived at our table and shortly after, I had sampled the best coffee I've ever had. Not usually one to enjoy a short black, I cannot imagine having this any other way. The idea of tainting it with warm, frothy milk is appalling!

Fado (translating to “fate”) is a traditional style of Portuguese music found in Lisboa. A partnership of guitar and voice, it is particularly sorrowful with singing about loves lost or unattainable. Pedro knew of a nearby fado house which catered to locals, meaning that it was true fado and also free. Unfortunately, August is the month where most Europeans take their leave and when we arrived it was closed. Instead, I was given a bit of a streets tour which was fantastic! Pedro is very knowledgable and has a passionate way of explaining things. This is probably what makes him such a gifted storyteller... While he can relate stories in English (and no doubt all other six languages he speaks), it is not surprising to hear that speaking in his native tongue, in Portuguese, is what is closest to his heart.

Several of us (me and some of his friends) all crammed into his car and accompanied Pedro to storytelling night lastnight, where he was performing. Although I did not understand a word that any of the presenters said, watching Pedro weave his stories with his entire body and ever modulating voice kept me captivated. If only I understood the language! Many a time I looked around and observed the completely entranced faces of adults and children alike, eating out of the palm of his hand.

Today I took a day trip to Sintra, which is now at the top of my list of must-do's in Portugal! Only a 40min train trip from Lisbon, Sintra is home to a magnificent collection of castles, palaces and mansions set into the mountainous, green hillside. Walking up (and up and up) to the Moorish Castle, I wonder whether the workout I am getting is really worth the effort. It is. As I emerge from the wood into the clearing, mist is swirling around the parapets and watch towers like a hungry wolf circling it's prey and I cannot contain the gasp which tears itself from my lungs. Such spectacular beauty mystified this place so that I felt as if I were clothed in medieval dress, searching through the brief gaps in the haze for my knight arriving home in the village down below.

As it turns out, almost the moment I left the sun came out and shone hot and bright for the remainder of the day. How lucky for me to have timed it just so!

Fortunately, bright and shining was the perfect element in which to view the Pena Palace – a Disney meets Wonderland crazy mismatch of a place. Colourful and abstract, it's brilliantly coloured towers reaching high beyond the trees, I knew I would appreciate Pena the minute my eyes first set sight on a photograph of it. I do find it difficult to imagine how anybody would have taken the royalty living in it seriously mind you!

Setting off for Lagos in the south tomorrow. I'm looking forward to a bit of R&R by the beach.

Pedro and me swapping glasses

Mystical Moorish Castle

An example of the Pena Palace decorating

Pena Palace

Recommendations:
- Sintra for one whole day minimum
- Chapito for drinks and sundown (Clown school and restaurant located in Graca. Great ambience!)

August 12, 2011

Dear Diary,

Today I had a lucky encounter with a stranger. I had wandered to Bairro Alto, the party district of Lisboa, to have a look at it by day. Walking past a shop on a quiet back street, some hand drawn artwork displayed out the front prompted me to stop. Before I knew it I was greeted by a very friendly man and pulled inside the store before being seated on a crazy hand made contraption resembling a rocking chair. Looking around the interior of the store it very much reminded me of a warehouse, sparse but for the kooky furniture made from recycled materials dispersed randomly around the room. The man began to rock me, and then as suddenly as it started, he stopped exclaiming - “This one is much better!” - and dragged me over to a rocking style chair so low that I could be sleeping... or racing in the Formula1. The man's name is Yannis, and he is a Greek who visited Portugal for one week in 2004 and never left. He reminded me of Billy Connolly, both in appearance and charisma (because of course I've met Billy and I know). Yannis must have liked the vibe from me as he decided to impart a local secret. He told me about a place nearby called Casa do Alentajo, a house built in the traditional way of the Portuguese people from Alentajo (bordering Spain, in the south.) If you know it is there, it is free to go inside and look around, and if you like you can dine at the restaurant or rehydrate at the bar. It is rather amusing that this place is situated right in the heart of a main street with numerous people wandering past and dining nearby, and they have absolutely no knowledge of it. From the outside it looks inconspicuous, but once inside many wonders greet you. Up the impressive staircase behind closed doors to emerge in a courtyard clearly influenced by Muslim architecture. Tiles in an impressive display of intricate patterning line the floor and walls, arched entryways whisper invitations onto the patio and palm trees in pots adorn the area surrounding the central water feature. When I entered this place I felt like crying. It is so beautiful and it's tourist free! I felt very honoured to have had this secret shared with me.

But Yannis's recommendations did not end there. With his hand-drawn map in hand, I turned a corner and located the eatery with the green door and the three giant sardines. 100% local, proper Portuguese not influenced by tourist tastebuds food and all, of course, written in the local tongue. Taking a stab in the dark I picked a name, approached the counter and very badly attempted to pronounce it. Ever smiling, the proprietor signalled me over to a long table designed for shared eating with friends or strangers. I was brought bread, olives, a local beer and my main meal (which ended up being the tastiest pork loin I've had served with spiced rice and hand cut potato chips) and all it cost me was 6Euro. That's at least 50% less than the tourist menus! Being very clearly the only foreigner in the cafe, the friendly locals found it amusing to watch me hungrily devour the food, and had fun trying to teach me a few phrases which I think translate to “Very delicious” and “Enjoy your meal/Bon Apetit” (as they spoke no English I cannot be sure that I have correctly interpreted all the gesticulating).

A wonderful day which offered me exactly what I had been searching for- a truly local experience.

Recommendations:
- Johnie's Place Hostel
- Casa do Alentajo (58 Santa Antao)

A series of diary entries...

Dear Diary,

Arriving in Portugal is like coming home. But coming home to a place you knew once a very long time ago. Being here is just...easy. I've not been here 24hrs and I already suspect that I will be back to live some day. Lisboa is built on a hill by the sea, and I love everything about it- the colours of the peeling paintwork, the outrageously detailed tiles on the walls, the laidback vibe of the open faced people and the rollercoaster of hills that challenge my butt and calves everywhere I go. I'm staying in Graca which is not a touristy area, but still rather accessible to the rest of the city on foot. Maybe that's what I love- the peaceful living. In the nearby district of Alfama I'm treated to a delicious view of the coastline with a real life soundtrack of street side Funana (traditional Cape Verde music with lots of rhythm). The drumbeat is reaching my whole body and moving it to express on my face the pure joy with which I feel in this moment. I am so happy.

Missing the Bus

Nestled in the crook of a tree in the depths of Parque Del Buen Retiro, I come to you from Madrid. The grass beneath me is lush and fluffy and the rushing of the lakeside waterfall blends with the soft rustle of leaves to create a sound where one is barely distinguishable from the other. I love this park. Wandering through it at dusk only a couple of eves ago, I was swept up in the romance and constant change that it embodies. How can one place evoke so many different auras? It reminds me of a box of Roses chocolates- something for everyone.

My guide book had advised me that Retiro was a romantic place frequented by couples, and had I heeded this warning perhaps I would not have been so affronted by the number of twosomes dotting the hillsides in passionate embraces. At sunset, the most romantic time of day in my opinion, I could not help but feel a pang of envy as I realised I was alone. As much as I am relishing my newfound singledom, a girl still needs to be held once in a while. And fed grapes. And massaged.

An outing on the man made lake in Parque Del Buen Retiro

Crystal Palace in the centre of the park

Several people who had made the pilgrimage from Madrid to Barcelona had forewarned me that there was not a lot to do here, but after four days I beg to differ. This city houses some of the worlds greatest works in it's museums (of which there are plenty), and with a palace the size of a Westfield and parks and buildings to admire, there is much to explore. Nightlife rivals no other place I have been yet, in the sense that the Spaniards of Madrid run according to their own clock- Typically, breakfast is at 10, lunch at 15:00 and it is not unusual to see people taking their evening meal at 22:00. In fact, on my first night out, restaurants were only packing up at 1am! Unsurprisingly, I have found it easy to slip right in to local time. Vastly different from Barcelona, if it is a local experience you are after than Madrid can deliver. Many people can speak a bit of English, but most don't bother to. Also there are not packs of tourists taking over the streets like gangs here, which makes a nice change in the middle of summer!

Sol is one of the main party areas, and on Saturday night I found myself drawn to the main square which was positively buzzing! A demonstration in one corner, tourists and locals milling around sitting on fountain steps and eating ice creams and a couple of shirtless young men pulling off amazing stunts on rollerblades- once again, all this at 1am. In Spain it is illegal for people to sell goods on the street, but of course you see it everywhere. Walking down an alley I stopped to admire this man's earring collection. All of a sudden he jumps up from his cardboard box stool, yanks the handles of his two large display cases closed, and tears off down the street like he has just robbed a bank. I turn around to the sound of sirens and the police speeding down the alley toward me, in hot pursuit of this illegal vendor. Talk about exciting!

Disney!

This entire first night was exciting, and I found great joy in ignoring my map and just following the hordes of people wherever they led me (of course, they led me to all the major nightspots which is exactly what I had hoped for).The next day, Sunday, was a completely different story. I should have learnt by now that in Europe, this is the day that a vacuum from space reaches down into the towns and sucks all the people from it- temporarily of course. Like a ghost town, I wandered the streets in amazement at it's emptiness, and even caught sight of how the maintenance men keep the streets so clean! (Actually, this was very interesting!)

One of my highlights was visiting the Prado Museum, which has an incredible body of Spanish paintings, and also Italian, Flemish and Renaissance. Having feasted my eyes on the unconventional and twisted work of Hieronymous Bosch at the palace in Venice earlier in my travels, I made a bee-line for his body of work upon entrance. His famous piece- The Garden of Earthly Delights, done on triptych- was every bit as spectacular as it is made out to be. What a smorgasbord of treats was whipped up by the artist and thrown onto canvas in lashings of pure, sinful temptation! I need one of these El Bosco paintings in my future house.

Royal Palace and Sabatini Gardens

Yesterday I took a day trip to Toledo with two wonderful new friends from the hostel- Eric from Malaysia (studying in Scotland) and Geraldine from Puerto Rico (soon to be studying in Madrid). We make a lovely trio, and have bonded quite nicely over the last few days. Only a short distance from Madrid, Toledo is well worth a visit. An old, medieval walled town, it used to rival Madrid for desirable place to live. There are remnants of buildings which pertain to the co-habitation of three succinctly different religions that operated at one time, namely Jewish, Christian and Moorish. The influence of these three cultures can be seen throughout the architecture of all the narrow cobbled streets. Here we visited the El Greco Museum, a house built in Spanish style to reflect the type of residence that the painter, El Greco, was inspired to live in. I took lots of “potential future house design” photos.

Moorish influence

Toledo

By now I am nearing the end of my trip, and feel like I have almost completely embraced travelling backpacker style. On a whim, I decided to check out of the hostel upon return lastnight and lug my second person to the major bus station with the intention of boarding the night bus to Portugal. Well, I'm all for spontaneity but this attempt was a fail of mass proportions. The tickets were all sold out so me, ever the fool, had to return to the hostel and book another night. Probably a good thing as it has prompted me to revisit Retiro with a picnic lunch of chorizo, tomato and mozzarella on french stick, and knuckle down and write this.

Oh, and you'll be pleased to know that I still remain a fast learner, despite the brain cell and liver abuse that has been going on this trip. Never one to make the same mistake twice, I booked my ticket to Lisbon for tonight lastnight while I was at the station. Cannot WAIT to get my Portuguese BBQ on!!!!

Eric, Geraldine and Lola

Recommendations:

• Accommodation: Turismadrid Hostel.(Also called Arti hostel, this place was 10Euros a night even in peak season as it is a University residence. Brilliant location and breakfast included for 1Euro.)
• Day trip to Toledo.
• Prado Museum
• Parque Del Buen Retiro and the Palacio de Cristal inside it.
• Go out and eat dinner late. Like 11pm. Then party ANYWHERE! (NB- Keep your eyes peeled for the guys trying to reel you in off the street- they often have deals which will make things cheaper for you.)