By R.F. Burton

In this installment of Geographer’s Café, R.F. takes us to Lisbon, Portugal and shares his experiences with hills, hookers and history…not necessarily in that order.  He’s just a notch above PG13, take it as you will.

As far as walking cities go, I wouldn’t count Lisbon in my top ten.  Cars, noise, large avenues, round-abouts, humidity and hilly terrain are all obstacles to the ambitious pedestrian.  Being the adventurous traveler and pedestrian that I am, I took one for the team which resulted in sore knees; saggy, sweaty pants; and quickly draining patience.  I was oblivious of these circumstances; the lesson is do your research.

I started from the HF Fenix Hotel in Marquis de Pombal, which was quite nice if a bit circa 1970’s, and headed down Avenue de Libradad toward Rossio Square. There were hints of a greater past in the stone walkways and facades of peeling paint; ghosts of an even greater past materialized on the rod iron trimmed balconies, flitted among intricate fountains and roamed around the grand squares.  One felt that if you squinted at just the right angle you could transport yourself to perhaps a hundred years ago, when Portugal still whispered of empire rather than economic  downturns.

As enticing as they the main tourist areas are near the river Lisbon,  I am more interested in history, and history is nearly always found on the high ground. So, up I go to the 11th century Castillo de St. Jorge. It is a quite a climb and much to my dismay, my leg muscles were soon straining and the humidity was giving me quite a glow. Fortunately, I came across the Se Cathedral which afforded me a chance to dry off and catch my breath.

The Se Cathedral is not a site which stands out on a map, but it is definitely worth a look. For a few extra pennies, you can venture up to the living quarters.  There is a great view of the city and some wonderful religious artifacts. To see how the clergy lived and imagine the inner workings of a medieval cathedral is worth every one of those pennies. Climbing, yet again, toward the Castillo, I decided to stop at a small café set among the winding alleys. I snacked on a nice meal of baguette with melted cheese and tomato (Portugese Pizza), all for 4 euros.

You enter The Castillo via a small park and there is an incredible view of all Lisbon. The castle itself has a fascinating history dating back to the pre-crusades as a Moorish stronghold all the way through to the 17th century as the administrative center and residence for Portuguese royalty. 

Later, I made the journey through more of those omnipresent winding streets and hills to the Igreja of Santa Engrácia which provided a nice view back to the Castillo and another little bit of history.  A word of advice; unless you are obsessive compulsive about exploring everything, I would finish off at the Castillo.

Lisbon shows itself best after sundown; shadows hide the flaws and the lights reflect its largesse.  Cool breezes stoke energy and a rhythmic fervor starts to spread over the town.  Since I was going it alone on this part of my journey, and wanted to be among the people, I broke my rule ~ again ~ and went to the tourist cafes for dinner.

I picked my dining destination of the evening for no other reason than they didn’t jump out and shove a menu in my face.  This particular comestible experience was one of those mistakes you know you have made right away but are too polite to rectify. Firstly, the theater across the way started to let out which prompted a herd of hookers to gather just a few meters from my table. While interesting to watch, that type of show doesn’t aid with digestion.

Follow that with a rather unsavory fellow who offered me some ‘oregano’ in a bag. He said it was pot, but seriously, it was oregano. When I said “No, thank you,” he said “Cocaine, then?”  I politely refused. He then tried to entice me with one of the ladies of the evening.    Again… “Tempted, but no,” was my answer. He was not deterred and pulled out a menu of potential vice ~ photos included. While detail is not necessary, suffice it to say that it showed everything, right down to Hostess cupcakes, Adderall, or a packet of paprika. Finally, the restaurant owner ran him off leaving me in peace to experience a rubbery slice of meat, wilted salad, and French fries and a final bill of nearly 50 euros* for one of my worst meals on this, or any, trip. Still, I got to be around people including hookers and spice dealers. 

The next day I grabbed a cab to visit the Monastery of St. Jerome. This is a place of particular interest to me because of its relation to Prince Henry the Navigator, Vasco De Gama and the era of Portuguese Discovery. I suspect some of you are already snoring so let me just say that it is a beautiful place which houses Vasco’s tomb, the epic poet Camoes’ tomb, the Maritime museum and a small archeological museum all set in amongst gorgeous renaissance architecture.

The following day, a new business acquaintance took me to his neighborhood and a restaurant called Tico Tico. This is the dining experience every traveler prays for. First, the area was no tourist trap but legitimate and upscale with a beautiful church and fountain. People were going about their daily lives at a leisurely pace and no one was trying to sell $30 plastic souvenirs….or vice.

The restaurant was a soft place with lace trimmed table linens in a garden setting. We enjoyed real salted cod, a traditional Portuguese dish, fried pork with muscles, Port and over three hours in which to enjoy it all. That is what I call a business lunch!

* A bit of warning about eating in Portugal: the portions can be large, plan to share; the starters may seem as if they are complements of the house, they aren’t and can be quite expensive.  Make sure you clarify this or you are liable to walk away with a decidedly emptier wallet.