Home again. The few days in Lisbon now seem like a dream, a world away. A different lifestyle and architecture, warm weather and bright blue skies. Were we really there? But luckily I have a few blogs to write so I can relive our time in Lisbon.
We arrived back home early on Saturday morning, at 2 am to be precise. This was due to a long delay in the plane leaving Lisbon, and then circling around Gatwick for half an hour. Our car had a flat battery, due to, and I say this very quietly, us leaving the dashcam plugged in. Luckily the carpark attendants were able to jump start it straight away. It was good to get into bed.
My telephone died completely on the Thursday. Sometimes I got a little life out of it, if it was plugged in, but mostly nothing, even though it was 100% charged. No matter what I did; such as deleting all unwanted files and photographs and then resetting it, nothing worked. The phone was finished.
I confess I am lost without a phone, no social media, no news, no anything. Bliss one might say. But not for me. Terrible how one relies on a mobile phone, and not for ringing anyone either. It is all the other bits and pieces on it, that one cannot do without anymore.
First thing on Saturday morning I researched new phones, on line, and luckily our mobile network had one in stock. A new Honor 9 phone made by Huawei, an updated version of my three year old phone. So I spent the rest of the day putting everything back on to it. Luckily Google saved mostly everything. But it made me realise why my old phone crashed, technology had become more complex during the past three years. The bank balance has been depleted somewhat. But on a positive note, the new phone is pretty good.
Now a word of warning for anyone who stores their tickets on the phone. So easy to scan, when entering the airport. That is, if the phone works. Luckily we also had printed copies of our tickets. Phew!
But back to Lisbon. We did a lot of walking, as always, although Walter, with his dodgy knee, found the pavement stones slippery to walk on, so we tended to not walk up or down hills. Luckily our hotel, about 30 minutes walk out of the centre, on the street that led to the airport, was only slightly up hill. We were surrounded by hills on both sides of the road. I guess the centre of Lisbon is in a valley, with the old city on one side, and the old wealthier suburbs on the other side.
The walk to and from the hotel, Sete Colinas, was always interesting, but unfortunately no photographs. We passed the local social services centre, many dodgy and interesting characters plus a few local ladies, a grassy area that was popular for rough sleepers, Chinese shops selling all sorts of household goods, Indian restaurants, plus a few very good cafes. We always stopped for coffee at one of them on the way down.
And it was on this street that we were hit by a pickpocket. On a very quiet morning, a public holiday. We were walking side by side, slowly, due to Walter's knee. A couple of elderly people, not watching, or so the man thought. I felt a presence behind us, looked down and saw a hand in Walter's bag. I called out, we both swung around, and there was a well dressed man, who tried to assure us that he was getting his tobacco out of his bag, which no doubt was open in order to put in whatever he was going to steal. We gave him plenty of advice, whereupon he sat down on a fence, in order to think about his sins! Or more likely his lack of success.
But the man, on his own, would not have had much success anyway. Although Walter carried lots of items in his bag, his one passport, one credit card and cash was safely behind many zips. However, if one is targeted by a gang, in a crowd, no amount of inner zips will stop them getting to the cash, as we have found out in the past. Creepy feeling to know that you have been watched though.
Luckily there was a cafe just after our bit of excitement with the pickpocket. We needed it.
The mosaic patterned pavements and squares were fascinating, although they felt very slippery to walk on. Almost as if they had been polished. They were often very uneven too, with missing tiles. The black and white stones used are basalt and limestone, with a lime wash. This technique of paving, was inherited from the Romans, and matched with Oriental style patterns. Over the years the patterns have matched the areas of the city, for example, wavy patterns for river and beach areas. However it is a dying art, and very expensive to maintain, sadly.
Two photographs, one showing a complex pattern, and one showing the craft stall that was selling hand painted items covered with stone paving designs from around the city. We bought a small place mat with a wavy pattern on it.
The tiles on the sides of some of the buildings were also amazing.
Praca do Commercio or Square of Commerce, was situated by the Tagos River. It was commonly known as Terreiro do Paco, or palace yard as there was a palace here until the 1755 earthquake, tsunami and fire destroyed it, as well as most of Lisbon. The buildings surrounding the square were built after the earthquake. Very impressive.
The new buildings, with the ceremonial arch, housed government bureaux which regulated customs and port activities. Carlos 1 was assassinated there in 1908, as was his heir. Two years later the Republican Party overthrew the Portuguese monarchy.
The statue of King Jose 1, was incorporated into the square in 1775.
A view from the street, looking through the arch, to the statue and the River Tagos behind the square. Plus a view of the gallery on either side of the arch.
Walter stood on the pedestrianised street, Rua Augusta, that led to the arch, and thought about the choice of restaurant. The restaurants were all in the centre of the street, and there were a great number of them, all with delicious looking menus. Then we realised that it would be expensive, probably not brilliant and dining would be quite hot, even under the shade of the umbrellas. We then had lunch in a small restaurant, on a very narrow side street, with a view of the back of a shop. Excellent food. However, we always enjoyed walking along this street.
Tuk Tuks everywhere. Also many smaller ones, self driven, were numerous too. However I did not fancy sitting in the traffic fumes and competing with the erratic Portuguese drivers. But they appeared to be very popular with much braver people.
Two cruise ships in the harbour meant extra tourists of course.
We did get great views from the lower viewing platform towards the hills on the opposite side of the town. The photo on the left was a view of Castelo de Sao Jorge. The view on the right could be the convent and church.
A view of a very large and important building, the National Theatre.
An ornate theatre.
A cosy little gin bar. Ginja, a Portuguese liqueur, is made by infusing ginja berries (sour Morrella cherries) in alcohol with sugar added, and served with a cherry in the bottom of the glass. The gin sounds delicious but I lost my opportunity to try one. I have a Morella cherry tree in the garden, perhaps I could make my own gin.
Sadly there were no pickpockets who wanted my telephone with the charger hanging from it.
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