July 2018 – Marty Magic Travel

The Real Alcazar Palace and Flamenco

Saturday, June 30^th – The Real Alcazar Palace and Flamenco

We enjoy a wonderful breakfast at our hotel’s roof top café bar. Art is able to get a soy latte and I order a cappuccino. Breakfast is an array of freshly squeezed orange juice, buttery croissants, tiny sweet pastries plus bite size quiches and fresh fruit on a skewer.

Tiled store front.

Uptown Seville

Art wants to see the Metropol Parasol, designed by Jurgen Mayer and completed in 2011 and more intimately referred to as the mushroom building. We enjoy a relaxed walk across town, I have no idea what to expect but I am delighted with the waffle like pods growing skyward in the striking morning light. I love the juxtaposition of this modern building in contrast to the surrounding old town. Skateboarders and bicyclists ride on the upper plaza but unfortunately the elevator to the very top of the structure is closed.

Metropol Parasol Plaza

Art taking the escalator up to the plaza

Metropol Parasol Plaza

The old city surrounding the Metropol Parasol

Metropol Parasol

We wander leisurely and then walk to the Museum of Belle Arts to see their collection of Golden Age Sevillian paintings and a special Murillo exhibition. The rooms of the museum surround a lush cloistered garden and the walls of the courtyard are decorated with Sevillian tiles.

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo Painting

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo exhibition

Bartolomé Esteban Murillo

Museo Bellas Artes de Sevilla

We continue to feel relaxed until we suddenly realize that we have not checked the closing time of the Real Alcazar Palace. It is after 2:00 P.M. and it closes at 5:00 P.M. today. We walk across the city as quickly as our feet will carry us. Fortunately the entrance line isn’t too long and we only have a 15 minute wait. The day is slightly overcast and just as we enter the immense courtyard of the Lions, it begins to sprinkle. Every stone surface has intricately carved patterns and vividly colored tile and mosaic work abounds.

Aquaduct arch – Real Alcazar Palace

Entering the Royal Alcazar Palace

Palace facade

To my tastes, this palace is much more beautiful than the many Renaissance and Rococo palaces I have visited. We wander the labyrinth of rooms and courtyards each more stunning than the last. Scalloped archways open onto geometrically perfect courtyards with immense reflecting pools. I am wearing a geometrically patterned blouse and I am almost camouflaged when I stand against the richly patterned walls.

Inner courtyard of the Real Alcazar

Reflecting pool

Ceiling detail

Architectual detail

Window opening onto a courtyard

Scalloped archways

Art posing like the painted tiles

Marty in Palace archway

The Royal Alcazar is an fine example of Mudejar architecture which is a unique style that evolved in the Christian Kingdoms of the Iberian Peninsula. The style incorporates Hispanic-Muslim style elements that blossomed during the coexistence of the Moors and the Christians between the twelfth and the sixteenth centuries.

Iron gate

Architectural detail

We wander the tiled pathways in the palace gardens; a manicured labyrinth of box hedges, palms and reflecting pools. The walkways are slick and the smell of fresh rain hangs in the air.

Palace garden

We return to our hotel, sit for a drink at the rooftop bar and have dinner a second time at Bartola, the tapas restaurant around the corner. We can’t resist ordering the ricotta stuffed squash blossoms a second time and sample a few new tapas. Yummy!

Rooftop view

Port at our rooftop bar

Hotel Amadeus rooftop bar

A Rick Steves tour group is staying at our hotel and yesterday we shadowed the group to a nearby Flamenco theatre and purchased tickets for tonight’s show. Rick’s guide book recommended several Flamenco venues but we figured the best option would be the one where he takes his group. I walk over early to secure front row seats while Art finishes his drink on the terrace. There are no bad seats in the theatre that seats just 100. There are just 4 performers; the guitarist, two female dancers and one male dancer who’s provocative moves and skin tight pants leave little to the imagination. The dancers lightening fast feet reverberate with syncopated rhythm on the wooden plank floor and the guitarists fingers fly. I am not disappointed with the intimate performance.

Intimate Flamenco performance

Not quite ready to call it a night Art and I wander our neighborhood filled with bustling cafes and restaurants. We sit for one last drink and return to the lovely Hotel Amadeus.

Cafe’s in Seville’s old city

Lovely Seville

Friday, June 29^th, Tavira Portugal to Seville Spain

There are no trains between Tavaira, Portugal and Seville, Spain but we have 10:15 A.M. tickets on the express luxury bus to Seville. After Art’s local bus experience yesterday, he is not looking forward to today’s 3.5 hour bus ride but when we slip into our spacious seats with a T.V. screen on the rear of each seat he brightens. The bus ride is comfortable and delightful and we watch the landscape scroll past our windows. The gently rolling countryside is agricultural with countless groves of dusty green olive trees dotting the golden landscape. We have a 15 minute bathroom stop along the way but in the crowded stop we neglect to take note of which of the identical busses we disembark from and upon our return are confused and the bus signage is not clear. The main women’s bathroom is under repair and a line of about 10 women wait for a single stall while men come and go quickly in their bathroom equipped with a half dozen stalls. One gutsy woman ahead of me marches into the men’s restroom and I follow behind her and find a vacant stall. Not a big deal, but I might not have had the courage to do this had she not pioneered the way and would have spent an uncomfortable second half of the bus trip with an overly full bladder.

Luxury bus to Seville

We arrive in Seville before 2:00 P.M. and take a taxi to the Amadeus Hotel in the heart of the old city. The taxi driver takes a less than direct route to our hotel and Art follows his meandering route on Google maps and grumbles his displeasure. I surmise much of the meandering is due to one way streets barely wide enough to accommodate one vehicle. Our hotel and its location in the picturesque back streets of Seville is sublime. Once again, the Rick Steves guide book has served us well and although Hotel Amadeus is a bit pricier than most of our hotels at approximately $140 Euros a night, it’s tiled and grated entry, Persian carpets, crystal decanters of complimentary port wine and herbal ice tea combined with it’s musical themed décor make it well worth the price. We deposit our luggage in our room and take note of the thick towels, crisp linens, bathrobes and slippers but we have sightseeing on our agenda and first head upstairs to the rooftop bar to inhale the view of the surrounding city rooftops and get our bearings.

Hotel Amadeus, Seville

Gated entrance to Hotel Amadeus

Music themed Hotel Amadeus

The afternoon is hot but not unbearable and we stop for tapas at an outdoor café on a busy street just above the Cathedral. The waiter suggests we order Tito de Verano, a cooling summer drink that is a mixture of chilled red wine and lemon soda; Seville’s version of Sangria. We share tasty and inexpensive tapas of grilled squid, eggplant tapenade and fried potatoes. Art orders a second Tinto de Verano and our bill is less than $20. Revived by the food and drink we begin the Rick Steves old city walk. It is cooler in the confines of the maze of narrow cobbled streets and we meander past private residences peeking through ornate iron gates into private jeweled gardens. Intimate squares are tucked inside the old city and the wisteria and other flowering plants sweeten and cool the air.

Seville old city walk

Private garden in old Seville

Seville old city walk

Water pipes in the old city wall

A delightful street pavement cover for cables!

When we come to the Seville Cathedral, the third largest in Europe after Saint Peters in Rome and one in England, there is a 20 minute wait to enter. We are grateful when it is our turn to enter the cool interior of the immense gothic cathedral. Aside from being spectacularly ornate, Christopher Columbus is entombed here. We are not tempted to climb the three hundred feet to the bell tower but instead, enjoy the ambience of the shady cloistered courtyard before returning to the streets of Seville.

Seville Cathedral

Gothic interior of the Seville Cathedral

Tomb of Christopher Colombus

Altar piece

The Seville Cathedral Bell Tower

Cathedral cloister garden

Outside, elegant carriages and well groomed horses stomp with impatience in the afternoon heat waiting for a fare. I surmise that they are practicing their Flamenco steps.

Horse drawn carriages

Our hotel recommends a tapas restaurant around the corner and we enjoy wonderful Tapas at La Bartola accompanied by premium glasses of red wine. We share a tempura sushi rolls, eggplant towers and ricotta stuffed zucchini flowers. All is excellent and affordable.

Eggplant tapas tower

Ricotta stuffed zucchini flowers

Art wants to find an ATM and is convinced that he will get the best rate at the Deutche Bank. We set out along the fashionable Avenue De La Constitucion. Street performers dance the Flamenco and musicians perform at every corner, their music clashing at times and all competing for an audience. Panhandlers sit with their bowls competing for sympathy tossed their way in the shape of a coin. Gypsy women thrust sprigs of rosemary towards me and I decline their offering, knowing that it ultimately will come with a price. We walk for miles getting lost and back tracking and I grow cranky and give Art’s Google mapping skills a bad review. Ordinarily Art will tell me that it is just an 8 or 12 minute walk from point A to point B and I usually reply cheerfully, “I can do that,” but tonight I decide that from here on, I will set a timer on Art’s mapping. This lightens the tension that has fallen between us and actually proves to be a rather fun game. After a few too many “time’s over,” we take a taxi to the food market. The market is another trendy and upscale iron and glass paradise for the human gourmet but certainly not for the Iberian pigs. The haunches of many a pig hang from above, a dripping cup for the leaking fat and juices attached below each one. We watch a butcher with a gleaming knife give a waiter a lesson in cutting paper thin slices of the meat from the haunch. He weighs and rolls the slices arranging them on a platter for a waiting customer.

Trendy food market across from the Triana district

The bridge to the Triana district

Triana district at night

From the market we cross the bridge into the Triana district, a recommended district for strolling and night life. Side walk cafes line the riverside promenade but we don’t find the district especially compelling and return to the old city on foot. Art continues to urge me on with Google map promises of short walks between points of interest. We stop for drinks at a corner restaurant and eventually meander back to our hotel.

Road Trip along the Algarve Coast

Tuesday, June 26, Road Trip along the Algarve Coast

We walk back to our hotel to recharge our phones and collect our clean laundry and take a taxi to Euro Rental Car. Art is miserable and anxious over my arrangement to rent a car for our drive south to the coast and he makes no “bones” about it. Our intention is to spend the night in Salema and there is no direct public transportation. I reserved a car in advance and when I ask for a map, the woman behind the desk informs me that they have run out of maps. Unbelievable!. The man behind the counter assures us that the GPS will get us there easily and sets the GPS to English with our end destination, Salema. He also prints out Google map directions and we are on our way via countless roundabouts before we access the highway and Art begins to relax. The drive is to take us 3.5 hours and we expect to arrive at the coast around 8:00 P.M. The golden rolling hills are dotted with cork oaks and the countryside looks much like the stretch of California between King City and Santa Barbara. We see a few storks nesting in roosting platforms, telephone pole high along the highway. Our credit card is connected to a prepaid device attached to our windshield that records the various tolls when we pass through. Every so often, we pass under an arch with multiple recording devices hanging down and our car beeps as another Euro or two are added to our bill. The GPS is excellent and eventually Art concedes that the drive is not so terrible after all. We stop at designated rest stop to use the facilities and pick up snacks. It is not unlike any U.S.A. freeway rest stop. The countryside becomes steeper and is visually dramatic in the late afternoon light.

Salema Portugal

Salema Town

A peek of the beach

Navigating is a bit more complicated when we near the coast and Art is tiring from the drive and I wish that I could take over but he is to be the only driver on our contract. We head east toward Sagres, the furthest point of Europe and begin looking for the turn off to Salema. Although we make a few wrong turns, we are soon winding down toward the coast and arrive in Salema, a small sea side tourist town and fishing village. Art finds street parking and we walk a block to the village center and at the first hotel, inquire about a room. We are relived that there is availability and take the 3^rd floor, 80 Euro room. Although the hotel boasts 3 stars, the room has seen brighter days but we do have an ocean view and aside from sleeping we will spend little time here. We stow our luggage and head downstairs to explore the town and choose a restaurant for dinner. A soccer game is playing in the hotel bar so our foray outside is slightly delayed but we are soon walking along the peaceful waterfront where we have half a dozen restaurants to choose from. We choose one owned by a German couple where we sit and sip glasses of wine and wait for our meals. Art orders seafood pasta and I choose a goat cheese salad. Our meals are reasonably good. After dinner we stroll along the one cobble stone street of the town and return to our hotel for the night.

Wednesday, June 27^th. Sagre, The Furthest Point of Europe and onto Tavira.

The included breakfast at our hotel is uninspiring. It is a beautiful sunny morning and we walk down to the harbor and turn right along the white sandy beach. The water is crystal clear but Atlantic Ocean cold as we walk along the edge of the gently lapping sea. The ocean is so still that we are tempted to go kayaking but other things are on our day’s agenda and we content ourselves with a peaceful beach walk along this pristine and dramatic beach. Yellow and orange sandstone cliffs rise dramatically above the beach. It is low tide and the slabs of rock that were underwater at high tide are carpeted with a lush green sea moss. The montage of colors; azure blue ocean, white sand, mossy green rocks and yellow and orange cliff faces make this beach one of the most dramatically beautiful ones I have had the privilege of making footprints on.

Salema Beach

Art, Salema Beach

Red cliffs and mossy rocks along Salema Beach

We walk to the end of the sandy crescent and retrace our path towards the slowly waking village. Although Salema used to be an active fishing village, there are now only half a dozen old salts still making their living fishing and trapping octopus. We walk towards the other end of the beach and watch a small tractor launch a fishing boat out to sea. Another fishing boat on the sand collects it’s nets with a mechanical clipping churn and I ask if I may take a photo? The weathered fisherman nods and I take a video of them rolling in their nets. Further up the beach rests another fishing boat but when I ask to take a photo the fisherman scowls and shakes his head.

Octopus traps

Fishermen and their nets

Salema Town

We return to our hotel via the cobble stone shop lined street, check out and drive the 10 kilometers to Sagres, the most southwestern point of Europe. Parking at light house is jammed and souvenir and food wagons line the blustery path to the lighthouse. Nevertheless, the cliff side views are breathtakingly beautiful and we take full advantage of the photo ops before starting our drive back towards Tavira.

View from the Sagres lighthouse

Cliffs of Sagres

Studio Bongard at the Sagres lighthouse

Bongard fish sculpture

Art now has the hang of roundabouts and we are soon on the toll highway and the two hour drive to Tavira is easy. Although most of the drive is inland, we stop in Lagos for a marvelous fish lunch.

The Algarve coastline

Lagos harbor

Fish restaurant in Lagos

We arrive in picturesque Tavira about 2:00 P.M, find street side parking and set off to the tourist office to find a room for the night. The day is insufferably hot and the woman at the IT tourist office is far from charming. She suggests a 4 star hotel and our inquiry about a few simpler hotels suggested in the Rick Steves guide book seems to displease her. She scrawls a few suggestions on a city map and we are off to investigate our options. All are close by but the first guest house is fully booked as well as one of the Rick Steves recommendation. We walk 10 minutes along the riverfront and come to the Marina Hotel which has a double river view room available for 80 Euros a night including breakfast. The room is lovely with a vintage tile bathroom and a balcony overlooking the river.

Tavira, a city built on two sides of the river

Our river front hotel

The view from our hotel balcony

We begin the Rick Steves Old City walk, stopping first in a Café so Art can watch a few minutes of the World Cup and to refresh with a sparkling orange drink and an espresso. The red tile roofs and secluded gardens of Tavira are lovely and we follow Rick’s suggested walk in the stifling heat of the afternoon.

Rooftop view of Tavira

Tavira garden

The riverfront drive open to vehicles

Later tonight there will be music!

We come to a small plaza and I see the curtained entrance to a Fado Theatre, a recommended 30 minute experience that includes a 10 minute movie of the history of Fado and a 20 minute performance. We have fortuitously arrived 5 minutes before the 5:15 P.M. show and we pay the 8 Euros each and enter the theatre. (Art is not enthused and the guide book has the price listed at 5.5 Euros, not 8 so Art wears his pained expression throughout the tedious performance.) His sour mood does not lessen until we are back outside even with the post performance shot of port, included in the ticket price. This is one of the few times where I feel that Rick Steves may have gotten it wrong and I am relieved the show is just 30 minutes long.

Fado Historia

Inside the Fado Historia

Tile rooftops of Avira

We return to our car and Art navigates the narrow streets to our hotel where we will have free parking until 9:00 A.M. tomorrow morning. Quick showers and our air conditioned room soon revive us and we head out to enjoy the evening. We sit for drinks at an outdoor café and as Art watches a few minutes of a soccer game, I find contentment in people watching and enjoying a glass of crisp Portuguese wine. It is still daylight when we cross the pedestrian bridge to search for a restaurant for dinner.

Pedestrian bridge in Tavira

Afternoon light in the old city

Restaurants and cafes

The outdoor tables at Aquasul Restaurant are full or reserved but we are fortunate that they have a single available table for 2 inside and we slip into our seats gratefully. The tuna Carpaccio with arugula is exceptional as is the chicken curry. We order individual glasses of wine and Art, anxious to sample more of the excellent food orders mushroom ravioli, a mistake of overindulgence. Dinner with 2 glasses of wine each is about 50 Euros or $60 including tax and tip. It is close to midnight by the time we climb the stairs to our hotel room.

Thursday, June 28^th – The Saga of the Rental Car Return – Tavira

Because I am not authorized to drive the rental car, Art must return it today in Faro. Although Faro is only about 30 miles away, we both know that it will take the better part of the morning for him to return it at the Faro airport and catch a bus back to Tavira. Art graciously agrees to do this alone while I stay in town and catch up on writing and some Marty Magic business. Art drives off around 9:30 A.M. and I sit at a simple café near our hotel and write for a couple of hours, sipping on sparkling water to stay hydrated.

A blissful morning writing at a riverfront cafe.

It’s another sweltering day and I want to find something cooler to wear. For a seasoned traveler, I have not packed appropriately. The jeans that the hotel laundered in Evora are now too tight to wear comfortably and I want to blame it on the hot water and dryer and not on the extra calories that I have been consuming. This heat calls for a cool dress and set out along the strip of shops adjacent to our hotel and buy a knee length blue cotton dress and a light straw hat. Art texts me to inform me that the rental car return process sucks but that he thinks he is on the right bus back and will arrive in Tavira at 2:25 P.M. I text a reply that I will meet him at the bus station, a short walk from our river front hotel.

Secluded cafe along the river

Boat docking in Avira

Understandably, he is not in the best of moods when he returns but after recharging at our hotel, we set out to enjoy the late afternoon in Tavira. We stop briefly in the cool of an Irish pub to watch a few minutes of the World Cup and then wanter onto an upscale riverfront café for cool drinks and tidbits of calamari. Everything is very affordable, making cafe and bar hopping fun and financially painless. A house wine costs about 2 Euros ($2.50) and the premium wines about twice that amount. Tax and tip are included in the prices so by California standards, café hopping is extremely affordable and delightful in this picturesque town of whitewashed buildings and narrow cobblestone streets. As the afternoon turns to evening, street musicians and performers stake their territory on the bridge and in the plazas.

A balmy Tavira evening

We choose an inviting rooftop restaurant for dinner but the meal is disappointing although the semi sweet white wine with the chameleon on the label is excellent. It is after 10:00 P.M. as we walk back towards our hotel and we hear dance music. There is music in the Zocalo near our hotel. Art fast walks his pack and my purse back to our room and returns shortly, hand outstretched and pulls me onto the square where we join the other dancers. Although Polka is not our dance, we find quite a few songs that we can dance to in the welcome cool of the evening. We are beginning to understand the afternoon ‘siesta.’ Business are open between 10:00 A.M. – 1:30 -2:00 P.M. They then close for several hours, opening again at 4:00 P.M. or 5:00 P.M. and remaining open until 9:00 P.M. or 10:00 P.M. Restaurants, bars and cafes are open until midnight. Young children play and dance with their parents late into the evening. It is simply too hot in the mid-day to do much more than ‘siesta.’

Stone Circles and the Chapel of Bones

Monday, June 25th – Lisbon to Evora

The train station we depart to Evora from is out by the Zoological Gardens and Art wishes to take the metro. Although the metro stop is not far and our luggage is minimal, it is still an effort to maneuver rolling suitcases over cobblestone streets and down into the depths of the metro. Art takes the brunt of it and eventually we pop up at the metro stop nearest to the train station. We are unnecessarily early and our train is somewhat delayed but by 5:30, we are onboard and on our way to Evora. Although we have assigned seats, our car is only half full and the passengers are taking the seating assignments loosely until a few stops along, an entire troupe of girl scouts board and we watch the harried leader find their assigned seats to contain her brood. Their appearance requires most of us onboard make way for them and to scurry into assigned seats.

We arrive in Evora slightly after 6:30 P.M. and take a taxi the short distance to our hotel just inside the old city walls. The taxi metering is different in Evora than in Lisbon but in spite of the higher rate, our 10 minute ride to our hotel is less than 6 Euros. Our hotel, the Albergaria do Calvarios is a beautiful property and almost too upscale for my tastes. We are graciously welcomed and offered drinks in their outdoor courtyard café bar but Art is anxious to watch the soccer game and does not want to do so in the enclosed bubble of our hotel. Our room is elegant and spacious with a view overlooking the red tile roofs of the old city. The modern marble bath has a bidet, which in addition for its intended purpose, I will appreciate for washing and soaking my tired feet after a long day of walking cobble stone streets. There is no time to waste now however and after depositing our luggage we race along the old city streets to the town square in search of an outdoor café showing tonight’s World Cup game.

Inside the Evora City Walls

Roof top view from our hotel window.

Courtyard of the Albergaria do Calvarios Hotel

Back street cafe, Evora

Evora city square

The center square cafes have no T.V. screen and we are directed to a side street where several overflowing cafes are showing the game. Although we stand for some minutes and ask about adding a table near the back, there is no seating. We find a sterile indoor café showing the game and each order a drink. Not being a sports fan, I position myself, back to the game and write this blog. At half time, Art wanders out to make reservations for dinner after the game however can’t find the intended restaurant in the maze of narrow back streets. It must be 9:30 when the game ends and we set out in search (again) for the Tasquinha do Oliveira Restaurant, highly recommended in Rick Steve’s guide book. The handsome but casually dressed Matridis is standing outside and when we ask if we can eat there tonight he replies, “I don’t know; are you hungry?” He explains that we don’t get to choose, that dinner is a set price of 25 Euros each and that it will include salad and starters, a main course with side dishes and include dessert. Wine is additional. We accept his challenge and are seated at the end of a table for 6. We already know that this restaurant is not for vegetarians and want to experience the local cuisine. As it turns out, had Art been able to find this restaurant during half time, the table for 6 was booked but the party didn’t show, so we are fortunate.

Appetizers at Tasquinha do Oliveira Restaurant

Main course of roasted pork neck and potato

We ask the waiter his suggestions for wine and he brings us each ample pours of white wine to pair with the starters followed by glasses of red to accompany the main course. Bring it on! For starters, a perfectly dressed, fresh greens, tomato and tuna Carpaccio salad arrives. Hearty bread and crackers arrive momentarily accompanied by an antipasto platter of cheese fondue, an assortment of cheeses, slices of sausage and salami and three remarkable dipping sauces. What sits before us is more than an ample meal and this is just the beginning. Everything is exceptional and we pace ourselves. A much younger couple is seated at the opposite end of our table for 6. They are from Florida and this is their first night of their honeymoon; each having arrived in Evora from different destinations earlier in the day. The main course is roasted pork neck, roasted potatoes and a spinach soufflé. I rarely eat meat but the melt in your mouth pork is delicious and the savory soufflé is rich and fluffy. We can make only a small dent in the main course and unfortunately, because of our travel schedule we will not be able to take the leftovers home. We converse with the Floridian newlyweds while waiting for the dessert course to arrive. A mint, lemon and oregano sorbet cleans our palate followed by a sampling of chocolate desserts. The bill is 60 Euros, tip and tax included. The meal is an extraordinary experience.

Tuesday, June 26, Evora’s Megalithic Sites and the Chapel of Bones.

The included breakfast in our hotel is marvelous but after last night’s feast, I try to choose wisely. The fresh fruit salad is wonderful, as is the egg frittata. An array of out of the ordinary pastries tempts from the buffet but I resist their call and help myself to seconds on the fruit and sip the strong cappuccino. We pass a bag of dirty laundry to reception that will be washed during our archeological excursion to the stone circles. Mario arrives at 10:00 A.M. and another couple also staying at this hotel and surprisingly from Lost Gatos, California are on our small tour of 6. We climb into the comfortable mini bus with Mario and a driver and pick up a couple from Macau in the center of town.

View of the Megalithic Stone Circle

Megalithic Stones

Explanation of the Stones

Art taking shade in the sweltering Evora heat

Marty and the Stones

Mario has his masters in archeology and is articulate, personable and extremely knowledgeable. Our first stop on the Megalithic tour is an amazing stone circle site. Unlike Stonehenge, there are no velvet ropes to separate us from the magic of this extraordinary site. This is wonderful for us but terrible for the preservation of the site.

Our next stop requires a trek through farmer’s fields where hemlock, Queen Ann’s lace and thistles grow wild. I am struck by the beauty of the wild flowers and interested to see hemlock first hand and to learn the visual difference in identifying hemlock versus Queen Ann’s Lace. Cattle graze in the surrounding fields and the acorns from the plentiful cork oaks are processed and used as feed for the livestock. We come to a lone standing megalithic stone, part of the stone circle we visited earlier but downhill from the cluster of stones and to the West. There is another similar stone in the same position downhill and to the East that we do not have time to visit.

Cork Oak Trees

Thistle

Single Megalithic Stone

Flat topped Queen Ann’s Lace

Our final stop is the site of a burial mound. We drive along a dirt road past groves of cork oaks and park, walking a short uphill path to the burial site. Mario explains that this site has been carelessly excavated with explosives prior to understanding the importance of such a discovery. A circle of huge slabs of stone form a cave like crypt where 12 -15 bodies were buried. These monumental stones were then topped by a larger slab that has been slid away and lies cracked at the top of the site. This cap stone is about 20 feet across. The site was previously covered by dirt to form an invisible mound in the rolling landscape.

Burial Crypt

Inside the burial crypt

Inadequate cover of the site.

Broken capstone from the Crypt

Mario drops us off in the town center of Evora. We pay him the 25 Euros each for the remarkable tour and although tipping is not expected in Portugal Art passes him 5 Euros, saying “because we are Americans.”

Roman Temple of Diana

It is 1:00 P.M. and we quickly choose a sidewalk café and order tuna salads to somewhat compensate for last night’s over indulgence. We walk to the Roman Temple of Diana, visit the Roman Cathedral and climb to it’s roof top for a view of Evora.

Roof top of the Roman Cathedral

Art ontop of the roof

Roof top of the Roman Cathedral

The Cathedral Cloisters

The interior of the Cathedral

The highlight of Evora proper is a visit the Chapel of Bones. It was built in the 16th century by a Franciscan Friar who wanted those who visited to contemplate that life is transitory. The Chapel is remarkably macabre and beautiful.

Panorama of the Chapel of Bones – Evora Portugal

The walls and pillars of the interior are lined with human bones. Skulls decorate the archways and leg bones form the columns. Every inch of the interior is paved with bones.

Mummified bones

Illuminated skulls and bones

Single wall of bones in the Chapel of Bones

Skull and femur columns

Skull and bone walls

Skulls decorate the arched ceilings

A Peek at Portugal

June 2018 – San Jose California to Lisbon Portugal

Stone Circle in Evora, Portugal

Chapel of Bones in Evora, Portugal

Friday, June 21^st

I am less stressed than usual preparing to leave for this trip. Our alarm sounds at 4:30 and I shower quickly and zip the last of my toiletries into my small suitcase. Last night I made coffee and I microwave a cup and check my e-mail one last time. Our Uber driver is 10 minutes early and as he loads Art’s and my minimal baggage into his mini-van, he suggests that we teach his wife to travel as lightly. We leave precisely at 6:00 A.M. arriving at the San Jose airport much earlier than necessary. I’ve checked in online and we scan our passports and print our luggage tags and drop off our two bags. Security is a breeze even before we notice that we are TSA pre-check approved we have waited through the longer line. We eat a leisurely but uninspired and overpriced breakfast at Gordon Biersch and wait for our plane to board. We are routed through Phoenix to Philadelphia with an overnight flight to Lisbon. We have a tight connection in Phoenix with no time to buy food but luckily there are still pesto chicken wraps available for our seat row before American Airlines runs out of food for purchase. The remainder of the passengers must settle for Pringle potato chips and snack packs. Art and I share head phones and watch I Tonya on his I phone and land in Philadelphia with an hour to spare before our international flight to Lisbon. Unfortunately there are no gates available for our plane and we wait anxiously on the runway as minutes tick by. Our slightly over an hour layover shrinks to less than 30 minutes as we are held captive on the plane. The stewardess announces that some passengers have tight connections and when our plane finally reaches the gate, those of us with connecting flights push through the aisle and into the terminal.

Our plane to Lisbon is already boarding and we have just 25 minutes to get to our next gate in an entirely different wing of the terminal . We fast walk and jog past other travelers and along the moving walkways. I am winded and Art takes the lead when I see a motorized passenger cart going the opposite way. I call out to the driver and he spins around in the near empty wing of the terminal. I climb aboard and we speed along the corridor slowing down to pull Art onboard. We are the last passengers to board our plane before the doors close and we will discover when we land in Lisbon that our bags did not run as fast as we did and will have adventures of their own without us.

Minutes before the doors to the plane close, we squeeze into two cramped airline seats and I am grateful that we are both of moderately small stance. We are torn between taking our Ambien immediately or waiting for dinner and doing without the extra 2 hours of sleep. We opt for eating dinner and I give American Airlines credit for serving the hot mini TV style dinners quickly with ample glasses of wine. I comment to Art that the crew is trying to sedate their passengers for the 7 hour flight. I pretzel up and sleep several continuous hours waking just before weak and tepid coffee and breakfast is served.

The Case of the Wayward Luggage. Friday, June 22^nd – Lisbon

Entering Portugal is a breeze and we are quickly through customs and watch in vain as the luggage carousel circles endlessly without depositing either Art’s or my luggage. Apparently, our luggage could not run as fast as we did between our Philadelphia to Lisbon leg of our trip. Although disappointed, I am not overly stressed and we file a lost luggage claim. I am optimistic that our bags will arrive on tomorrow’s 9:15 A.M. flight from Philadelphia and that I will be wearing clean clothes by noon tomorrow.

We take the inexpensive ($4 each) Aerobus from the airport to the Rossio Train Station which is just downhill from our Zuzabed Bed and Breakfast hotel. The steep and cobblestone streets between the plaza and our Zuzubed Guest House are picturesque and we only get moderately lost. I am hot and sticky by the time we arrive at our hotel and our host Luis is more that helpful in taking down claim and phone numbers for our wayward luggage. We are grateful for the assistance and the ice water but anxious to make our escape to our room and ultimately to begin exploring Lisbon on our own. Unfortunately it is still late morning and our room isn’t ready yet and Luis suggests a restaurant. The meal is mediocre at best, helped along only by a carafe of Sangria. We enjoy the ambience of a working class clientele but my two fried mackerel stare up at me with dead eyes and I struggle with the crispy skin and the countless bones. The appetizer dish of black olives with pits has more meat than my fish and I pick my way through pits and bones. Despite delayed luggage and a disappointing lunch, I am in good spirits, not too jet lagged and looking forward to getting my bearings in this picturesque old city.

Fish and sangria lunch

The stairs up to our Zuzabed hotel

The plaza at the bottom of the stairs

We stroll the shopping streets in our district and Art, needing a change of clothes, buys a shirt at the El Ganso store. I also look for something clean to wear but to no avail. We know that the best case scenario for being reunited with our baggage will be noon tomorrow and we head back to our hotel to shower and rest. Our hotel is in perfectly situated in the Chiado district sandwiched between the Baixa and the Bairro Alto. We are in the heart of the old city and once again the Rick Steves guide book has served us well. Our accommodations are street level, on a narrow cobblestone street and although not luxurious, we have a sitting area and tiny kitchen. We shower and take a short rest and partially recharged, walk down towards the waterfront to watch Brazil versus Costa Rica compete in the World Cup. Unfortunately, Art has misread the time and the game is over when we arrive. Although another game is onscreen, the sun blazes down and there is no shade.

World Cup Soccer Game showing at the Lisbon waterfront plaza

We wander back up the long shopping promenade looking for the perfect café where we might sit for a cooling drink on this hot afternoon. For those of you who don’t know our bad habits, Art can seldom find the perfect café or restaurant and after an hour, I am tired and exasperated. Eventually we come to a picturesque cobblestone park just above our guest house and sit and sip drinks in the shade of flowering Jacaranda trees. Art sips port and I sip crisp white wine at 2.5 Euros each. A wonderful group of musicians perform in the plaza and we are blissfully happy.

Art in a clean shirt outside of our hotel

The outdoor cafe in the Jacaranda Plaza

We follow Rick’s advice and choose Cafe Lisbona, one of his recommended restaurants for dinner. We share a mussel appetizer and duck and salmon entrees and a glass of wine each. Although the ambience is lovely the entrees are slow in arriving and jet lag is catching up with us. Art and I are close to falling asleep at the table when our delicious entrees arrive. Unfortunately, we are too tired to appreciate the meal fully and take much of the salmon back to our room, falling into bed and asleep immediately.

Lisbon cafe at twilight

Lisbon street scene

Saturday – June, 23. Sao Jorge Castle and Fabulous Fado!

Breakfast is included in our room and served in an upstairs dining room. We help ourselves to coffee from a thermos with accompanying hot milk. Breakfast is hearty but uninspired. The rolls and bread are industrially fluffy but the accommodating cook fries our eggs to order and there is sliced cheese and ham and fresh squeezed orange juice. Although the bacon looks delicious, we pass for the sake of our cholesterol and the pigs.

Lisbon City View from Sao Jorge Castle

The morning is hot but not unbearable. We take a 6 euro taxi ride to Sao Jorge Castle, winding uphill along narrow cobblestone streets to the castle entrance. The line of about 50 people moves quickly and we are finding that being ‘seniors’ is a definite financial advantage at 50% off the ticket price. We enter the castle gardens surrounding the fortress where venerable olive trees offer shade and there are expansive views of the city and harbor beyond. We take our time exploring the castle and circumnavigate the castle walls for ever changing vistas of the surrounding city.

Marty at Sao Jorge Castle

Sao Jorge Castle grounds

Art on Sao Jorge Castle wall

Castled out, we meander back down the cobblestone streets by way of the Saturday flea market. Neither of us are inspired by the stalls of cheap clothing, junk and antiques although in need of fresh clothing, I do check out the cheap underwear and socks. We walk the steep graffitied streets down towards the waterfront.

Lisbon Antique Shops

Lisbon Antique and Flea Market

Lisbon Graffati

We meet a Mexican couple who are walking in our direction and are in Lisbon to watch the Mexico Portugal World Cup game. Art strikes up a conversation and we learn that he is from L.A. and she is from Mexico and their hope was to go to Russia to see the game but she was denied a visa. They are headed to the waterfront plaza to watch Mexico compete in the World Cup. Having gotten the times wrong on yesterdays Brazil vs. Portugal game, Art hopes to watch some of the Mexico – Portugal game on the big screen. When we reach the central waterfront plaza the anticipated big screen is dark. At first Art believes it is an electrical problem but the other half of the plaza is pulsing with music and dancers and an elaborate arch of rainbow colored balloons floats above the plaza. The Lisbon gay pride festival is in full swing and the World Cup is on hold for the afternoon.

Lisbon Gay Pride Festival

Not realizing how important this World Cup soccer game is to Art, I make a few sightseeing suggestions that seem to irritate him and we meander back to the Jacaranda shaded plaza near our hotel in awkward silence. All the tables are taken at “our” outdoor café but I lean an vacant bar stool against a tree, well positioned to view the game and borrow a chair from a nearby table to add to our real estate. Fortunately, two Mexican women with a coveted table next to us are enthusiastically watching the game and Art soon makes friends with them and orders drinks. A smile soon replaces his scowl and the afternoon is saved. Mexico Wins!

The outdoor cafe at the plaza above our hotel

We return the short distance to our guest house but there is still no news about our wayward suitcases. I am sill in the same clothes from Thursday morning and am feeling limp and disheartened. When it comes to clothes, I am a terrible shopper in the best of circumstances but I leave Art to rest and set out determinedly to buy a clean outfit and fresh underwear. I find myself defeated at every shop and two hours later, when on the verge of tears, a stylish young woman in a lingerie shop takes pity on me and guides me through some basic bra and underwear purchases and miraculously has two embroidered lounging tops that fit my desperation and immediate needs.

Several hours later, freshly showered and in clean clothes, Art and I walk towards the Bairro Alto to check out several of Rick Steves recommended Fado shows. The district is festive in the early evening with garlands strung across the narrow streets and diners sitting at outdoor cafes.

The Bairro Alto district

One of recommended Fado shows turns out to be a sterile tourist stage performance and the second doesn’t open until 9:00 P.M. and is definitely not suitable for our minimal wardrobe. We stop in the third for an early ginja (a traditional Portuguese cherry liquor) and listen to a few Fado songs but there is no magic here and Art reminds me that there is a hole in the wall, Fado café/bar just steps down from our hotel and that if we go there we will be able to keep an eye out for our luggage which we have heard will be delivered later tonight.

Fado Nights – Duque Da Rua

We slip into the tiny Fado Bar on Rue Du Duque and sit at a long wooden table, our backs to the wall.

Fado bar on Rue Du Duque

Three guitarists

Three guitarists sit at one end of the long and narrow bar their backs to the door opening to the street. It feels as if we are at a private party as two male waiters who are delivering our drinks and tapas pause their serving and perform mournful songs. A group of older women sit at a rear table, nursing their drinks and waiting for their chance to sing. Unfortunately, the tapas offered are minimal and I am soon light headed from the wine and minimal food but grateful that Art continues his diligent checking on our missing luggage. At one of his luggage checks, he is gone longer than expected and when he returns he tells me that a group of young Belgium men are celebrating a bachelor party at the restaurant across the street and he has been drinking with them. I am blissfully happy listening to the sorrowful Fado music and know that I only have a few doors to stumble back to our guest room hotel. Somewhere around midnight, Art gives me the welcome news that our luggage has just been delivered to the restaurant across the street. We stay until the music ends and the bar closes at 1:00 P.M.

Sunday, June 24^th. Sintra – So Many Castles… So Little Time.

Breakfast in our guest house dining room is a repeat of yesterday’s but we enjoy conversing with a woman from Manchester, England, visiting Lisbon for a short holiday. She raves about a day she spent in Sintra and we decide to go there and take the 40 minute train that departs from the Rossio train station just below our hotel. Sintra is just 15 miles outside of Lisbon and is where the Portuguese aristocracy would escape from city life to their country fairytale castles. We arrive just before 11:00 A.M. along with hoards of other tourists but we manage to beat the long lines into both the Pena Palace and the Moorish Castle by buying tickets at the tourist office inside the small Sintra train station. 10 Euros buys us an open tut tut ride up the winding mountain road and drops us off just below the entrance to Pena Palace. Unlike Lisbon, it is cool here and the mountain side is lush with trees and blooming flowers.

Pena Palace, Sintra

Chandelier at Pena Palace

Gargoyle Gate to Pena Palace

Castle cafe at Pena Palace

Pena Palace feels very Disneyesque to me. The palace and surrounding park are the 19th century vision of German born Prince Ferdinand, a cousin to “Mad” King Ludwig who built the Neuschwanstein Castle in Bavaria. The architecture is a mishmash of Portuguese and German with some Moorish throw in. We wander throughout the rooms and take in garden views from the many castle terraces but as much as Prince Ferdinand was trying to impress and outdo his cousin King Ludwig, I am not impressed.

Thousand year old Moorish Castle in Sintra

When we have had our fill of the Pena Palace we hike over to the thousand year old ruins of the Moorish Castle with forts on two hills that are connected by walled walkways. The enchanting forest grounds surrounding the castle are as magical as is the idyllically restored castle. It’s a pleasant but long walk through manicured gardens to the castle entrance. Although climbing castle stairs seems to get slightly more challenging each year, I still pride myself on walking the walk. I feel rewarded at each step with vistas of snaking castle walls and bucolic vistas of Sintra City below.

Flowers along the pathway

The walk up to the Moorish Castle

Walkway up to the Moorish Castle

The Moorish Castle walls

Moorish Castle view to Sintra

Art walking the Moorish Castle walls

Art after conquering the castle wall

From the Moorish Castle we catch a Tut Tut down the mountain to old Sintra. We’ve had our workout for the day and choose a cafe in the main square for a late lunch. We order pasta, share a carafe of white wine and loose track of time. We race to the train station to catch the 4:50 train back to Lisbon but there is no time to use the toilet before jumping on the train and with a bladder full of wine, I am relieved that the trip is only 35 minutes.

Dreadlock Tut Tut driver down the mountain

Old Sintra

After resting and showers we wander the short distance uphill to “our” Jacaranda plaza where Art can get his daily World Cup Soccer fix, following which we have dinner at a small and inviting restaurant along our cobble stone street, Rue Du Duque.

Restaurant on Rue Du Duque

Although we wait 15 minutes for a table, the bustling ambience is welcoming and the food is excellent and affordable. We see a steaming bowl of shellfish and rice delivered to an adjoining table and we follow suit and order the “Sea Rice.” I leave the two large shrimp for art to undress and enjoy the clams and mussels in the rich both of fish and rice. We share a duck leg which is moist and delicious and down it all with ample pours of wine. It has been a near perfect day and our Zuzabed and breakfast hotel is just a few steps away.

Monday, June 25^th, Pastels in Belem (Cream filled pastries)

Most museums are closed on Mondays so we decide to take the tram out of the city to the Belem district to sample the famous Pastels (Cream Pastries.) Although it’s confusing finding the correct tram stop we are soon onboard for the 25 minute ride to Belem. Lisbon city and the suburbs roll past and we disembark at the Belem stop and walk two blocks to the famous bakery cafe, Casa Pastels de Belem.The line spills outside and Art is inclined to abandon our plan but after investigation he returns and tells me that the line is for take away not for tables. The interior décor is all blue and white tile and there must be 6 or 7 expansive dining areas with tables. We go deeper into the café until we come to half vacant room and quickly claim our seats.

Cafe dining room in Casa Pastels de Belen

Casa Pastels de Belem

In our room alone, several harried servers are struggling to keep ahead of the incoming tide of customers. It is soon apparent that we have chosen the wrong seating section but ten minutes of patience brings us menus, followed shortly by a cappuccino, espresso and two warm out of the oven pastels. As Art waits, I explore the charming but cavernous café establishment and take photos of the kitchen through viewing windows. I am nearly run over by a bakery cart piled high with freshly baked treats on its way to replenish the pastry cases in the front.

Pastels and Cappuccino at Casa de Belen

Kitchen viewing window

Take out window at Casa de Belen

Take out at Casa de Belen

When I return to our table, our dining room is full and there is a long line waiting for seating in the rooms further on. Art calculates that there is seating for 800 people and although the prices by our standards are more than reasonable, at just 3 Euros spent per seat, and a turnover of 10 seatings per day, the café must take in over 24,000 Euros a day and that’s not including the take out section where the line stretches half way down the block, certainly taking in more revenue than the café.

Monastery of Jeronimos

Facade of Monastery of Jeronimos

Unfortunately, the Monastery of Jeronimos is closed on Monday but we are able to view the impressive exterior and peek into a publicly accessed courtyard into the library is open. A sign notes that the maritime museum is open on Monday and we choose to go there. Once again, the senior discount is an advantage and the vast museum is air-conditioned and quite interesting considering the importance of international trade routes and the sea are to Portuguese history.

Belen Maritime Museum

Siren ship carving

Belen Maritime Museum

Ceiling detail

We return by the same trolley stopping at the Time Out Market with intentions of eating lunch at one of the many gourmet eateries. The upscale market is in an enclosed industrial age iron and glass market hall. In the mornings, half of the market is a fish and vegetable market which is closed now but we enter the trendy hall and circumnavigate the many bustling eateries trying to choose. The food looks marvelous and upscale and expansive shared tables and stools fill the center. We have come at the height of lunch and seating is scarce and the choices are daunting. Art makes the welcome suggestion that we return to the restaurant on our street in the Chiado district and eat at Eu Duque again. We make the long uphill trek stopping into a few antique and Azulejo tile shops along the way and enjoy an excellent lunch, sharing a gourmet tuna salad and a duck and rice entrée. We limit ourselves to a glass of crisp white wine each and after lunch, the waitress brings us each an aperitif of and ginja, the local cherry liquor.

Ginja cherry liquor

We make a final foray up to our Jacaranda plaza where Art watches a few minutes of a soccer game and although we wish for an extra day and night in Lisbon we must collect our luggage and head for a distant train station to catch our 5:15 P.M. train to Evora.