The Ryndex

I have always dreamed of going to Lisbon. At least since Christmas. I had the guides, I printed out the Google maps, and Duckie had even presented me with a Portuguese phrase book. When my sweet friend JJ came to visit, we tossed around ideas for a trip, and as soon as Lisbon came up — we got online and booked the trip within the hour.

14h00 We arrived at the Lisbon airport and set our watches back an hour. We tried to get a taxi voucher to the city centre (a flat fee of about 15€) but the infolady told us to just get in the taxi line and pay the metered fare. She was right — it came to 10€. Taxis are inexpensive in Lisbon.

16h00 We left the hotel and found some food at the little mall next door. It looked like a worker‘s cafeteria, with a small pre-prepared menu to be microwaved. The chocolate cake was delicious!

16h00-18h30 We went back to the hotel for a nap, and to dress up for the evening.

19h30 Our hotel was close to Parque Eduardo VII, a large green space inside the city, connected to the harbour by a long, leafy avenue. Lisbon is built on seven (or so) hills, and one side of the avenue is the Barrio Alto, or “high neighbourhood”. At the end of the avenue is the Baixa, a small grid of shops and restaurants, historic squares and arches, finishing at the Tagus river.

We walked down to the Baixa. It took us roughly a half hour, but we were very leisurely. We stopped at a café for a beer (and a tonic water for JJ) and to watch the world a bit.

21h30 Our restaurant had nightly performances of fado, which is a particularly Portuguese genre — a soulful singer clad in black accompanied by traditional rhythms and melodies on a Portuguese guitar. It‘s somewhere between blues and torch lounge with an Arabic influence, and fado performances are a mainstay of the Portugal tourist experience. The guide book was somewhat cynical about our chances of encountering a quality Fadista, but the performers at the restaurant were obviously very accomplished. The Portuguese in the crowd were particularly enthusiastic.

We obtained the last available table, fortunately refused by the couple in front of us for being too far from the stage and too close to the aisle. In reality, we had a clear view straight to the stage. We both had the tourist menu (39€) starting with bread and olives, cabbage and sausage soup with cornbread. I had the white wine.

We had gone through two different fado singers and they moved on to traditional Portuguese folk dancing. Unfortunately, in comparison to the throaty emotion of the fado music, it really came across as chirpily touristy. We concentrated on the main course, baked trout. Portuguese cuisine is based on seafood.

Later on in the evening, the dancers would return with garlands and banners proclaiming LUSO in flowers. They dragged some of the audience members up to dance as well, including our neighbours.

So we “borrowed” their video camera to surreptitiously tape them (and then ourselves waving), replacing it on the table and acting innocent when they came back. They didn‘t suspect a thing.

10h30 The first show finished and most of the restaurant left. Our waiter moved us into the center of the restaurant, where they cleared a small candlelit space under the vaulted brick ceiling. We had the best spot for the second sets of singers (no more dancers). They were even better up close — it was a very intimate setting, and the fadinistas have piercing, longing stares to go with the music.

We had the simplest dessert and coffee, and headed out between sets.

0h00 The Barrio Alto is full of bars and restaurants, and it was a warm night. Everyone was out on the street drinking caipirinhas and mojitos — it was a very friendly atmosphere. We ran across our destination almost by accident. It looked closed, until someone approached and buzzed in. At many of the clubs in Lisbon, you need to ring to get in. We popped our heads in and looked around… The place was DEAD.

The doorperson assured us that people would arrive and start dancing at about 2am.

So we wandered through the Barrio Alto, and eventually found the Praça de Principe Real, and another little bar to buzz into and hang out at. We sipped at our drinks (tequila for me, Pepsi for JJ) and hung out. And hung out. The barman played solitaire…

2h00 We found our way back to Frágil, and the bouncer recognized us. It was a 10€ cover including a drink, but we headed directly to the dance floor. It was empty except for couple making out… well, someone‘s gotta start, so we did. We‘re trailblazers!

Wilson, one of the featured DJs, watched us for a while and chanted at us for a bit — then came down to dance and inspire the crowd while his partner worked the music. He introduced himself to us, then threatened us: “I will kill you if you stop dancing.”

Threatened by the DJ! That‘s the hallmark of the start of a successful night.

So we danced and danced. Wilson came down again a few times, and danced very specifically with JJ… And then we melted into the night.

4h00 We took a taxi and went home. It was so close, but we were tired, and a bit lost.

8h21 Both of us woke up before the alarm, and couldn‘t get back to sleep. We went to the breakfast buffet in our pajamas. Our original intention was to raid the buffet and then go back to bed, but we decided to head out and nap later.

10h25 We took the metro to the Baixa. It was only three stops, but it was so convenient and inexpensive (0.75€) that it wasn‘t worth walking.

Once we were there, we stopped at a bunch or European chain stores that could have belonged to any city. Except, of course, they were spacious and well-organized with a larger variety and in my sizes… I spent a bit of time at the H&M. Again.

12h00 But we‘re in Lisbon for cultural reasons, right? We should be shopping… culturally. To this end, we found a tiny shop specializing in custom-fitted handmade leather gloves. We weren‘t going to be there long enough to get the custom-fitted of course, so JJ and I tried on a few pair of ready-to-wear gloves. The shopkeeper had an elaborate process of individually opening the glove fingers with a little wooden tool and inflating it with a little talc. JJ‘s gloves were a delicate black leather, with splashes of orange, red and white between the fingers. Mine were black leather driving gloves with the finger seams on the outside. She looked ready to stroll along snowy New Haven streets with a (cruelty-free) fur stole and a handsome beau. I looked ready to cat burgle something or strangle someone.

Unfortunately, they were too dear to simply purchase on a whim, so I bought hers as a gift, and she bought mine. Problem solved!

13h00 We lunched at Praçca Dom Pedro IV on a traditional Portuguese dish bacalhau con nata (cod in cream). It was very rich with a baked bread crumb crust, like a thermidor.

Then we took a taxi through the Alfama, through the steep hills and twisty streets, to the São Jorge castle. The view alone is worth the price of admission — there‘s a little restaurant there that would be ideal for a romantic lunch. The castle itself is mostly restored ruins, but with intact staircases that climb the high walls to see the city from almost any angle. They built a camera obscura that acts as a live periscope over the city, but we decided against waiting to enter. We also skipped the Olissipónia, a multimedia presentation on the city and it‘s history. It probably would have been very interesting but we were rapidly fading from the efforts of the day…

15h30 So we taxied back to the hotel, had a nap, and got Dressed again to go out.

We learned from the previous night that we didn‘t need to be at the club too early, so we headed back to the winding streets of the Alfama to wander and find a restaurant. The neighbourhood is very residential, and seemed very quiet and still during the night. It‘s very easy to photograph, however, with its maze of streets, stairs and paths. It‘s very unlike other medieval city centers that I‘ve seen, even more disorganized and jumbled, and interesting.

We ate at a small restaurant called Amigo Antonio, which specialized in grilled seafood. Dining in Portugal, there is frequently a “cover” charge for the table, usually in the form of olives, bread, bottles of water, cheese. You are charged for each individual item that you consume whether you ordered it or not. This occasionally extends to individual pats of butter. You aren‘t obligated to eat any of it, of course… but my recommendation is to go ahead if you feel like it. Restaurant prices are very inexpensive in Lisbon compared to any other European city I‘ve been to, especially for the quality of the food. You‘ll be ahead of the game anyway.

We had the grilled sea bass and sea bream, with side salads (with homemade bread) for about 50e.

JJ was particularly impressed with the restaurateur… He was available, polite and sincere. He seemed truly appreciative that we had chosen his establishment, which is a charming change from most tourist-oriented services. In fact, the Portuguese we encountered were all warmly gracious.

23h00 Still far too early to hit the dance floor, we decided to take a taxi down to the Docas area to walk around. The taxi driver, John, confirmed that the club would be empty, scoffed at us for napping during the day, and dropped us off well past our destination at a little strip of bars and restaurants. We walked past them all over to the little harbour. The night was clear, and the view of the suspension bridge was excellent. We were nearly underneath it.

Like Rio, the Christo Rei spread his arms facing the city, lit magnificently.

0h00 Finally, we walk to the club — the Blues Café. The doorman warns us that dancing doesn‘t start for another hour and a half, so we sit and have a drink (a 6e tequila for me and a 3e tonic water for JJ).

The club is much larger than Frágil, and carefully decorated as a combination Southern bordello and gentleman‘s club. Large Johnny Walker statues are lit like museum pieces. We scored a little table with big puffy fringed chairs. Floor lamps are scattered around. The dance floor fills with standing and chattering tourists.

This place seriously lacks authenticity. It‘s very crew cut and cruise ship. The DJ is playing lounge trance — I think it might be a Buddha Bar compilation.

1h30 I run to the club next door. The door staff lets me know that it‘s girls‘ night and that the management prefers regulars to foreigners. I take this at face value, but I suspect she might have been gently bouncing me. In any case, their dance floor was still obviously dead too. Meanwhile, back at our club, the lights dim further and the music changes to heavy-handed house remixes of serious eighties rock songs.

The herd sniffs the air and tentatively sways back and forth. A few early adopters actually start to dance, but for the most part the dance floor is still standing and chatting. We gamely join the dancers.

1h55 Enthusiasm comes from within… But only for a half hour. We say we‘ll give the place five more minutes, but we don‘t. We flee — the dance floor is trying its best, but can‘t compete with the soulless discomfort of the rest of the tourists wishing they were having more fun.

So we cut our losses and get a taxi to a different club, by the Principe Real closer to our hotel. Trumps has two dance floors, which is always a good sign. 10e cover, including n drinks (I‘m not quite sure… the barman took two stubs off of my ticket, which had four).

What can I add to that? We danced on one dance floor, then the other.

3h45 And then we went home. The night was still going strong and we were having fun, but it was all a bit tiring. And while Trumps was much more fun than the Blues Café, it seemed that everybody there already knew everybody. I felt a bit foreign to the scene.

10h00 I went down for breakfast. This time fully dressed for the day.

12h00 We took the metro to Cais do Sodré with the intention of catching the tourist tram to Belém for some historic sites (or not-clubs as they are sometimes known). We quickly caved and called a taxi — they‘re really quite cheap here, and they‘re available everywhere. The tram looked like fun, though.

We ate lunch at a self-service cafeteria next to the Torre de Belém. This tower is on the cover of all the Lisbon tourist guides, but I couldn‘t tell you what it was all about. It was free day, and swarming.

We did not skip the cloister at São Jerónimo. This is an extremely beautiful example of Portuguese architecture, with helices and ropes carved into every surface and every ceiling vaulted… TO THE MAX.

The flea market along the park was also chock full of souvenir-worthy items (much better than the souvenir shops, in fact).

We looked for a special pastry shop called Pasteis de Belém , but it was packed and we couldn‘t be bothered. In fact, there was very little we could be bothered with that day — we floated serenely from place to place, glanced shallowly and moved on. It‘s not that we‘re negligent tourists; we were more relaxed and content to not concentrate too hard on too much. Typical last day of vacation.

So we did stop off at the pastry shop next door, and shared five pastries, a cappuccino, and a banana smoothie (for under 10e! Hooray Lisbon!)

17h00 Then we taxied back to the hotel for our nap.

We skipped the monument to discovery, which commemorated the grand history of Portuguese exploration.

20h00 After napping, we dressed (“small-d dressed, not big-d Dressed) and walked to the Principe Real and through the Barrio Alto with a bit of sunlight. I ate more delicious grilled fish, JJ had the octopus rice, plus our soups and sparkling water, the bread, cheese and pats of butter: 32e.

We walked down to the main square for some night pictures, and decided that we would both come back to Lisbon one day, but with a lover. It just seemed like that kind of city.

Wait, can I say the word lover on the Internets?

0h30 Anyhoo, metro home and sleep.

7h00 Wake, shower, breakfast, taxi, airport, Paris.

Tin Foiled Travel