First Pasteis de Nata and On to Lisbon

About 45 minutes after I went to sleep, I was awakened by loud noises. I had my iPhone playing Ambient Sleep playlist, and I thought “That’s odd that it’s so loud,” and so the first thing I did was turn the volume down. No change.

It took a while for my sleep-addled brain to comprehend that the noises were from outside. Evidently, this was the eve of Liberation Day in Portugal, and so the festivities began with a bang. Actually a lot of them. Loud and unrelenting.

I had opened the windows some to get some fresh air. The room wasn’t air conditioned and I was not quite hot but also not cold, either. Unfortunately, two things were going to conspire to blunt my efforts to sleep.

The bed was harder than the floor. I exaggerate, I know. But it was even more unrelenting than the fireworks, as it lasted all night and they lasted for only 20 minutes. The bed also had no top sheet; just a lumpy, heavy comforter that was too hot and too heavy to have on. But cool enough that I’d instinctively put it over me throughout the night, only to kick it off again.

I tried melatonin gummies, magnesium, hot water, meditation, conscious breathing, and even listening to a podcast, which helps so often. (Not that the podcast is dull, it just takes my mind off the fact I’m not falling asleep so that I do, in about 20 minutes.) Eventually, I rose about 6.

I had some coffee (there were two Nespresso pods) and began to assemble my bike. I dropped my wrench, the pump, and so many other things and I was again worried about waking the people below me, that I decided to first shower and go across the street to the Pastelleria. (How convenient is that? Kismet by proximity!)

Anyone who knows me is aware that I love all things custard almost as much as I love bread and drinks made with yeast. And they were as amazing as I was led to believe from Phil’s episode when he visited Lisbon.

After my custard/cappuccino interlude, the bike verily flew together seamlessly. One could say it unfolded easily. (Folding bike joke!) I packed it up and left for the train station by 9:30. I had a 10:48 train, but I figured that I’d take my time getting there by enjoying the city. Google said that it was about a 30 minute walk.

HA HA HA HA HA

Let’s just say that I followed directions and only once took a wrong turn (10 minutes lost, max), but still arrived at 10:35. How is that possible? Railroad workers announced a strike (I think the timing was to give them more time off for the holiday) but were kind enough to list the trains that weren’t going to run, along with those that were. So the platform was a bit packed.

When the train finally arrived, I looked for Car 22 per my bicycle reservation, but the conductor told me it wasn’t possible. My bike tires were too large. He walked off to scold others who were taking too long to board.

I was a bit taken aback. This was the first stage of my carefully orchestrated planning (well, the only planning that I had done, really. Not that careful or orchestrated, more like jazz improvisation.) and it couldn’t fail right at the start. I had non-refundable hotel reservations. I was a man with a plan to get a tan and no fan of that conductor.

So I approached him again… he waved me off, but still I persisted (just like Elizabeth Warren!) and told him that the bike folds and I’d make sure it wasn’t in anyone’s way. He relented finally and told me that I could try but he had no confidence in me or that bike.

To be truthful, it fit easily, both in the front tire hanger and the rear tire holder. I stowed it in less than 4 minutes and was sitting long before the train departed, though I was one of the last passengers to board. People going to the bathroom brushed against the handlebars, but didn’t seem to mind.

At a station an hour and a half into the ride another cyclist boarded. They allow only 2 bicycles per car. (Her husband had to load his bike into the next car.) She was super friendly and helpful and suggested I look into eco vias de Portugal (http://www.ecovias.pt/). The site owner had documented all of the bike paths (rails-to-trails, dedicated paths, low-traffic routes, etc.) throughout Portugal and across the various authorities that set them up. She had just ridden from Porto down along the beach for two nights following one of their routes.

After I arrived in Lisbon, I immediately set out to find my hotel. I didn’t know that it would be at the top of several hills in a warren of little cobbled streets. It was sketchy on the roads. The drivers are aggressive, and many will say that they are the worst drivers, but I witnessed several trucks having to make it through super-tight spaces with inches to spare. At most, I’d go with maybe a bit overconfident.

The temperature was in the 80s and it was humid. Near the river, there was a nice breeze which kept it cool, but in the warren, it was still and the climbing effort in the heat made me feel like I was a sous vide packet of food cooking slowly but surely.

Eventually, I made it to the Casa de Janelas com Vista and it was cool and modern and a bit posh in that vintage furniture style. Raphaella, the receptionist, was amazing and helpful and set me up nicely with some cool water and a spot for my bike to rest for the day so that I didn’t have to carry it up the stairs.

I showered and changed and checked in with Julie before heading out for some tapas. It was five-ish, so too early for Lisbonites to dine, and Raphaella suggested the Pharmacia for tapas.

It took a while to locate, as it was in the same building as the Associação Nacional de Farmácias and the sign featured the chef’s name more prominently. Long story short: great view overlooking the river, amazing gazpacho (but with a different name), olives, and cheese. And a nice 1/2 bottle of Douro Valley Branca (white wine… dry and minerally). I had started out with a cocktail they named the Antidote. It furthered their pharmacy theme. The ginja (cherry liquor) made it a bit special.

I was going to go out a little later for a walkabout, but I was a bit too tired. I took another shower, rested and went to sleep deep and long. This bed had it all dialed in; the room was dark because of the solid wood shutters, quiet due to its location, the bed comfy because it just was, and the sheets (plural!) and comforter were just right. I was lost to the world for 8 or more hours.

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