Bikerscott & Jamikins in Portugal 2010/2011
Dec 27th, 2010, 01:21 PM
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Bikerscott & Jamikins in Portugal 2010/2011
Day One, December 27, 2010 – To Lisbon, And Beyond!
As is our tradition lately, we’d booked a relatively early flight out of Gatwick airport to Lisbon for our Christmas/New Years trip. The weather in Britain has been atrocious lately, with temperature down to freezing and snow drift up to 3 or 4 centimetres deep, so we were understandably concerned that our flight not make it out. Heathrow I think was still shut and Eurostar was having problems, so our concern was understandable.
Despite the anxiety, our flight was only slight delayed and we made it out of Gatwick more or less on time. The flight itself was alright – we flew Portugal’s national carrier “TAP”, which evidently has one of the best customer satisfaction records in Europe. Compared to budget carriers we’ve flown recently, it was a paragon of class and efficiency. On the other hand, the seats were small, and snacks included a very dry bun and a sausage in a bun (with cheese) – to be fair, that sort of spread on other carriers who shall remain nameless could cost up to €15, not including the coffee and pepsi.
We were blessed on the flight with a row behind us consisting of a very enthusiastic little girl who entertained herself by kicking my seat back and her mother, who had one of those deeply emphasymic coughs that just screams bad flu which she was good enough to share with the rest of the flight – I love it when people don’t cover their mouths when they cough...
We arrived in Lisbon and collected our luggage – our Air Canada suitcase survived yet another trip (it’s getting close to being retired – 8 years of fairly heavy travel has seen ripped handles, missing zipper pulls, bent handles brackets, and frayed corners. Virpi, the owner, collected us at the airport in her massive Land Rover and we made the somewhat mad trip up to Sintra.
At Casa do Valle we got the quick tour of the room, featuring scenic balcony and roaring fireplace before heading back up the giant hill to Sintra old town for an afternoon of exploring and beveraging.
Bizarrely, Sintra is insanely cheap for festive beverage, with two of three rounds costing a grand total of €4 for a large glass of wine for each of us. Similar beverages in London would have cost a minimum of about £10, so on the value for money scale we were well ahead right off the bat.
Sintra is actually a pretty cool little village, perched in its hill overlooking the sea in the distance. It seems to be an interesting mix of tourist tat and isolate mountain hill town. There were a surprising number of deserted and crumbling massive houses that seem to be completely left to the elements, with windows boarded up and roofs falling in – anything as beautiful as these places in London would be worth millions.
After much wandering and photo taking, we made our way to a restaurant, possibly called “Touhle”, just off the main square. It was festive, but suffered from the main affliction that seems to affect all the places we’d been too so far in Sintra – a sullen unwillingness to acknowledge the temperature. We’re Canadian, we we’re used to cold, but when it’s this sort of temperature we at least close the doors. Here, it seems, they fight the cold by leaving all doors and windows open and challenging the weather to do it’s worst (it was about 10 degrees celcius, but that’s bloody cold to have all the doors and windows open, even to a Canadian!).
We ordered the grilled meat platter to share, and ended up waiting until the rest of the restaurant was served before we got our insanely massive portion of meat – the cost of the wine at less than five euro a bottle (not great, but not bad considering) made the wait less painful.
Dinner itself was insane – for 23 euro for the two of us, we had two grilled steaks, two pork chops, four lamb chops, four bright pink sausages (the same it appeared as we had in Germany), a giant portion of rice, and a giant portion of chips. It was incredibly tasty, although as they say, hunger makes the best sauce. The entire bill came to just more than €40 including two bottle of wine and mixed starters. Something similar in London or Paris would be at least twice that price. In terms of value for money, it seems that Portugal can’t be beat.
We made our rather unsteady way back down the hill to our B&B, where our fireplace waited for us. free wifi got us a connection to online radio, cold wine in the fridge, candles lit, lights off. Weloaded a few more logs into the fire, poured a glass of wine, and settled in for the night. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been this relaxed. I think I’m going to like Portugal.
As is our tradition lately, we’d booked a relatively early flight out of Gatwick airport to Lisbon for our Christmas/New Years trip. The weather in Britain has been atrocious lately, with temperature down to freezing and snow drift up to 3 or 4 centimetres deep, so we were understandably concerned that our flight not make it out. Heathrow I think was still shut and Eurostar was having problems, so our concern was understandable.
Despite the anxiety, our flight was only slight delayed and we made it out of Gatwick more or less on time. The flight itself was alright – we flew Portugal’s national carrier “TAP”, which evidently has one of the best customer satisfaction records in Europe. Compared to budget carriers we’ve flown recently, it was a paragon of class and efficiency. On the other hand, the seats were small, and snacks included a very dry bun and a sausage in a bun (with cheese) – to be fair, that sort of spread on other carriers who shall remain nameless could cost up to €15, not including the coffee and pepsi.
We were blessed on the flight with a row behind us consisting of a very enthusiastic little girl who entertained herself by kicking my seat back and her mother, who had one of those deeply emphasymic coughs that just screams bad flu which she was good enough to share with the rest of the flight – I love it when people don’t cover their mouths when they cough...
We arrived in Lisbon and collected our luggage – our Air Canada suitcase survived yet another trip (it’s getting close to being retired – 8 years of fairly heavy travel has seen ripped handles, missing zipper pulls, bent handles brackets, and frayed corners. Virpi, the owner, collected us at the airport in her massive Land Rover and we made the somewhat mad trip up to Sintra.
At Casa do Valle we got the quick tour of the room, featuring scenic balcony and roaring fireplace before heading back up the giant hill to Sintra old town for an afternoon of exploring and beveraging.
Bizarrely, Sintra is insanely cheap for festive beverage, with two of three rounds costing a grand total of €4 for a large glass of wine for each of us. Similar beverages in London would have cost a minimum of about £10, so on the value for money scale we were well ahead right off the bat.
Sintra is actually a pretty cool little village, perched in its hill overlooking the sea in the distance. It seems to be an interesting mix of tourist tat and isolate mountain hill town. There were a surprising number of deserted and crumbling massive houses that seem to be completely left to the elements, with windows boarded up and roofs falling in – anything as beautiful as these places in London would be worth millions.
After much wandering and photo taking, we made our way to a restaurant, possibly called “Touhle”, just off the main square. It was festive, but suffered from the main affliction that seems to affect all the places we’d been too so far in Sintra – a sullen unwillingness to acknowledge the temperature. We’re Canadian, we we’re used to cold, but when it’s this sort of temperature we at least close the doors. Here, it seems, they fight the cold by leaving all doors and windows open and challenging the weather to do it’s worst (it was about 10 degrees celcius, but that’s bloody cold to have all the doors and windows open, even to a Canadian!).
We ordered the grilled meat platter to share, and ended up waiting until the rest of the restaurant was served before we got our insanely massive portion of meat – the cost of the wine at less than five euro a bottle (not great, but not bad considering) made the wait less painful.
Dinner itself was insane – for 23 euro for the two of us, we had two grilled steaks, two pork chops, four lamb chops, four bright pink sausages (the same it appeared as we had in Germany), a giant portion of rice, and a giant portion of chips. It was incredibly tasty, although as they say, hunger makes the best sauce. The entire bill came to just more than €40 including two bottle of wine and mixed starters. Something similar in London or Paris would be at least twice that price. In terms of value for money, it seems that Portugal can’t be beat.
We made our rather unsteady way back down the hill to our B&B, where our fireplace waited for us. free wifi got us a connection to online radio, cold wine in the fridge, candles lit, lights off. Weloaded a few more logs into the fire, poured a glass of wine, and settled in for the night. I can’t remember the last time we’ve been this relaxed. I think I’m going to like Portugal.
Dec 27th, 2010, 04:09 PM
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Love your report so far! Am heading to Portugal for my first time in less than two months and so will be anxiously awaiting your next installment, and hoping to live vicariously through your adventure. Obrigada!
Oh also glad to hear about the cheap wine, I think I'm going to like Portugal as well...
Oh also glad to hear about the cheap wine, I think I'm going to like Portugal as well...
Dec 28th, 2010, 01:08 AM
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I have to apologize for the poor quality of writing in my post above. In my defense, we'd spent almost €20 on yesterday which bought us three and a half bottles of wine, plus the wine in our room, and the various portions of port which I'd sampled. Beyond that, I was drifting into a meat coma as a result of the massive portions at dinner.
So, some clarifications:
1. The restaurant was called "Tulhas", and was very nice, if a bit cold. During renovations in the 80's they found the original grain stores for the whole village down under the floor. The hole is still there, bizarrely now containing a few optimistic bits of change, an empty plastic water bottle, and a fork.
2. It wasn't clear in the commentary above what Virpi is the owner of - she's the owner of the B&B Casa Do Valle, not owner of my Air Canada suitcase. http://www.casadovalle.com/default.a...a=ing&p=images
3. I shall endeavour not to repeat myself by saying the same thing over and over in future posts.
BikerScott and Jamikins
So, some clarifications:
1. The restaurant was called "Tulhas", and was very nice, if a bit cold. During renovations in the 80's they found the original grain stores for the whole village down under the floor. The hole is still there, bizarrely now containing a few optimistic bits of change, an empty plastic water bottle, and a fork.
2. It wasn't clear in the commentary above what Virpi is the owner of - she's the owner of the B&B Casa Do Valle, not owner of my Air Canada suitcase. http://www.casadovalle.com/default.a...a=ing&p=images
3. I shall endeavour not to repeat myself by saying the same thing over and over in future posts.
BikerScott and Jamikins
Dec 28th, 2010, 05:02 AM
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Hi Jamie, hi Scott!
Oh I was so happy to find this trip report! I hope you had a beautiful Christmas. We would have loved to spend it with you but loved being home just a titch more.
I think your trip report is great so far and why would you apologize about the writing -- it's excellent. Our Lisbon/Sintra trip is outlined in my London trip report from September 8 to 12 and also lreynolds walking tour of Lisbon is fabulous. If it's not already on your list of things to do, the Pena Palace in Sintra is worth the trip.
I absolutely understand what you mean about the cold. There were plenty of stores and restaurants in London where we couldn't figure out why they just didn't CLOSE THE DOOR.
I'm looking forward to reading more.
Best from both of us.
gtg and SO
Oh I was so happy to find this trip report! I hope you had a beautiful Christmas. We would have loved to spend it with you but loved being home just a titch more.
I think your trip report is great so far and why would you apologize about the writing -- it's excellent. Our Lisbon/Sintra trip is outlined in my London trip report from September 8 to 12 and also lreynolds walking tour of Lisbon is fabulous. If it's not already on your list of things to do, the Pena Palace in Sintra is worth the trip.
I absolutely understand what you mean about the cold. There were plenty of stores and restaurants in London where we couldn't figure out why they just didn't CLOSE THE DOOR.
I'm looking forward to reading more.
Best from both of us.
gtg and SO
Dec 28th, 2010, 05:04 AM
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If you enjoy sampling port wine, do not omit the Port Wine Institute opposite the hill station of Elevador da Gloria when you make it into Lisbon.
http://www.ivdp.pt/pagina.asp?codPag...cao=5&idioma=1
http://www.ivdp.pt/pagina.asp?codPag...cao=5&idioma=1
Dec 28th, 2010, 07:52 AM
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Our Day 1 pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/jamie.a....eat=directlink
Great hints guys! GTG so glad to hear you have a lovely xmas!
Great hints guys! GTG so glad to hear you have a lovely xmas!
Dec 28th, 2010, 02:15 PM
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Day Two – Up the Bloody Hill, and Up Again (December 28, 2010)
Today, we managed a bit of a lie-in, although not as late as expected. We both managed to have our showers and more or less get ready to go before our appointed breakfast delivery time of 9:30am, a time we’d chosen the previous night.
Breakfast was tasty, although a little healthy for a Christmas vacation, consisting of excellent muesli, yogurt, and various bits of fresh fruit. I firmly believe that festive holiday breakfast should include large portions of bacon, possibly eggs, and other unhealthy additives – more on this later...
After filling up on tasty treats, we headed up the rather steep and extremely long hill (it felt steeper and longer this morning, somewhat dehydrated as we were) into the central part of town to catch the bus up to the Moorish and regular castle (there are two).
When the bus finally arrive, we crammed in, having paid our nine euro twenty in small change that we’ve collected over the years of European travel, much to the delight of the bus driver who had to count all of it. The bus was incredibly full, although not nearly as full as it gets in the summer according to Jamie, who’s lived through it before.
I can’t believe the skill and determination of the bus driver – some of those corners would have worried me in a small car, let alone in a giant city bus full of tourists, most of whom were standing. Despite my expectations, we made it up the hill to the Moorish castle, where we had a choice: get off the bus and explore the ruins, or continue on up the hill to the Pena Palace.
Discretion being the better part of valour, and the heavy fog (although at that height cloud may be a better word for it) making the view a bit sub-par, we decided to continue on the bus up to the Pena Palace for some indoor sight-seeing.
We piled off the bus at the top with the rest of the sensible people and were immediately engulfed in a massive and dense cloud. Typically for us, we arrived at a scenic outlook in the middle of the fog (our Lands End adventure earlier in the summer when we couldn’t actually see the end of the land springs to mind). The cloud was so bad that from the bus drop off area we couldn’t actually see the castle itself, and had to rely on signs to lead us up the hill (why is it always up the damn hill?!?).
The view from the top would have been spectacular, had we been able to see it - over the town of Sintra and all the way to the sea evidently. Even from the base of the castle we could barely see the top of the battlements. We stopped for a leisurely espresso and water, in the vain hope that the cloud would lift and we’d be able to see anything at all.
Our plan was thwarted and we gave up – we packed up, took out our cameras, and made the best of it, taking any number of eerie atmospheric photos of the palace as we went. Somewhat bizarrely, the castle was built in the 1800’s by the somewhat romantic kings of Portugal who wanted somewhere to indulge their painting and other pursuits. As it was built as a residence and not an actual defendable castle, it has some rather odd features. As far as we could tell, they just sort of picked and chose features that they thought were suitable for a castle – a bit of Arabic turret here, a bit of crenulation there, maybe a cloister in the corner. Very beautiful, but odd nevertheless.
Many photos taken, many rooms wandered through, we made our way back down to the bus stop and joined an already long queue, despite having missed the previous bus by mere minutes. Thirty minutes later the next bus arrived, and as we had already bought tickets for the return journey, as soon as it cleared out we jumped into the rear doors and sat down, as would be expected in London. Evidently, based on the glares we received from other passengers, this is not the accepted form in Portugal. Oh well...
Back in Sintra, we decided that it was about time for lunch. We didn’t want to eat on the main square, so made our way down the street out of town past the info van (the main info centre is being renovated). We eventually found a rather nondescript little cafe and went in for a meal. As was expected, the wine was unbelievably cheap at about four euro for a half bottle. Lunch itself was a bit odd – grilled sandwiches for both of us, mine containing hot dog sausages, my second in two days, after at least four or five years since having one previously. Not a bad lunch for the price, but strange....
Sufficiently fortified, we wandered around for a bit before heading back to our new favourite little bar, underneath Cafe de Paris (I’d mention the name, but I forget). Yet again we enjoyed a bit too much wine, although at two euro a glass how can it be too much?
Eventually we stumbled back down the hill to the B&B to refresh ourselves and get ready for our fancy dinner planned for the evening. Our fire was laid for us while we relaxed, and we spent a few minutes chatting with Virpi and playing with her dog Pandora, the biggest dog I’ve ever seen in my life (a ten month old Great Dane, who is possibly the coolest dog in Portugal).
Relaxed and tidied up, Jamie and I walked up and down and back up the road to the far side of Sintra for our reservation at “G-Spot.” This restaurant evidently prides itself on it’s gastronomy, and it’s owner, or at least main waiter guy is a trained sommelier. This apparently explains the horrendous name – apparently its supposed to mean Gastronomy Spot, slight dirty pun unintended...
The food was good for Sintra, fairly average for what we’re used to in London or Paris given the price...the sommelier did steer us right for wine though and for eighteen euro we had a very nice bottle of red (although at six or seven euro the previous day it was a bit hard to justify).
We stumbled back into Sintra for some night shots of the town, then back down the hill to the B&B, where the fire and a bottle of port were waiting for us. Tomorrow we’re back to Lisbon for 5 days. I think I’m going to miss Sintra, especially the incredibly cheap wine and really quite friendly people. Hopefully we’ll get some sun in Lisbon, although coming from London I can’t really complain about the clouds or slight drizzle...
Today, we managed a bit of a lie-in, although not as late as expected. We both managed to have our showers and more or less get ready to go before our appointed breakfast delivery time of 9:30am, a time we’d chosen the previous night.
Breakfast was tasty, although a little healthy for a Christmas vacation, consisting of excellent muesli, yogurt, and various bits of fresh fruit. I firmly believe that festive holiday breakfast should include large portions of bacon, possibly eggs, and other unhealthy additives – more on this later...
After filling up on tasty treats, we headed up the rather steep and extremely long hill (it felt steeper and longer this morning, somewhat dehydrated as we were) into the central part of town to catch the bus up to the Moorish and regular castle (there are two).
When the bus finally arrive, we crammed in, having paid our nine euro twenty in small change that we’ve collected over the years of European travel, much to the delight of the bus driver who had to count all of it. The bus was incredibly full, although not nearly as full as it gets in the summer according to Jamie, who’s lived through it before.
I can’t believe the skill and determination of the bus driver – some of those corners would have worried me in a small car, let alone in a giant city bus full of tourists, most of whom were standing. Despite my expectations, we made it up the hill to the Moorish castle, where we had a choice: get off the bus and explore the ruins, or continue on up the hill to the Pena Palace.
Discretion being the better part of valour, and the heavy fog (although at that height cloud may be a better word for it) making the view a bit sub-par, we decided to continue on the bus up to the Pena Palace for some indoor sight-seeing.
We piled off the bus at the top with the rest of the sensible people and were immediately engulfed in a massive and dense cloud. Typically for us, we arrived at a scenic outlook in the middle of the fog (our Lands End adventure earlier in the summer when we couldn’t actually see the end of the land springs to mind). The cloud was so bad that from the bus drop off area we couldn’t actually see the castle itself, and had to rely on signs to lead us up the hill (why is it always up the damn hill?!?).
The view from the top would have been spectacular, had we been able to see it - over the town of Sintra and all the way to the sea evidently. Even from the base of the castle we could barely see the top of the battlements. We stopped for a leisurely espresso and water, in the vain hope that the cloud would lift and we’d be able to see anything at all.
Our plan was thwarted and we gave up – we packed up, took out our cameras, and made the best of it, taking any number of eerie atmospheric photos of the palace as we went. Somewhat bizarrely, the castle was built in the 1800’s by the somewhat romantic kings of Portugal who wanted somewhere to indulge their painting and other pursuits. As it was built as a residence and not an actual defendable castle, it has some rather odd features. As far as we could tell, they just sort of picked and chose features that they thought were suitable for a castle – a bit of Arabic turret here, a bit of crenulation there, maybe a cloister in the corner. Very beautiful, but odd nevertheless.
Many photos taken, many rooms wandered through, we made our way back down to the bus stop and joined an already long queue, despite having missed the previous bus by mere minutes. Thirty minutes later the next bus arrived, and as we had already bought tickets for the return journey, as soon as it cleared out we jumped into the rear doors and sat down, as would be expected in London. Evidently, based on the glares we received from other passengers, this is not the accepted form in Portugal. Oh well...
Back in Sintra, we decided that it was about time for lunch. We didn’t want to eat on the main square, so made our way down the street out of town past the info van (the main info centre is being renovated). We eventually found a rather nondescript little cafe and went in for a meal. As was expected, the wine was unbelievably cheap at about four euro for a half bottle. Lunch itself was a bit odd – grilled sandwiches for both of us, mine containing hot dog sausages, my second in two days, after at least four or five years since having one previously. Not a bad lunch for the price, but strange....
Sufficiently fortified, we wandered around for a bit before heading back to our new favourite little bar, underneath Cafe de Paris (I’d mention the name, but I forget). Yet again we enjoyed a bit too much wine, although at two euro a glass how can it be too much?
Eventually we stumbled back down the hill to the B&B to refresh ourselves and get ready for our fancy dinner planned for the evening. Our fire was laid for us while we relaxed, and we spent a few minutes chatting with Virpi and playing with her dog Pandora, the biggest dog I’ve ever seen in my life (a ten month old Great Dane, who is possibly the coolest dog in Portugal).
Relaxed and tidied up, Jamie and I walked up and down and back up the road to the far side of Sintra for our reservation at “G-Spot.” This restaurant evidently prides itself on it’s gastronomy, and it’s owner, or at least main waiter guy is a trained sommelier. This apparently explains the horrendous name – apparently its supposed to mean Gastronomy Spot, slight dirty pun unintended...
The food was good for Sintra, fairly average for what we’re used to in London or Paris given the price...the sommelier did steer us right for wine though and for eighteen euro we had a very nice bottle of red (although at six or seven euro the previous day it was a bit hard to justify).
We stumbled back into Sintra for some night shots of the town, then back down the hill to the B&B, where the fire and a bottle of port were waiting for us. Tomorrow we’re back to Lisbon for 5 days. I think I’m going to miss Sintra, especially the incredibly cheap wine and really quite friendly people. Hopefully we’ll get some sun in Lisbon, although coming from London I can’t really complain about the clouds or slight drizzle...
Dec 28th, 2010, 11:33 PM
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And our pics for Day 2: http://picasaweb.google.com/jamie.a....eat=directlink
Dec 29th, 2010, 02:58 PM
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Your pics are gorgeous -- you'll have to enter some of them in next year's Fodors Show Us Your Europe contest! Funnily enough, some of your shots are exactly the same ones we took at Pena Palace. We were there on a bright sunny day, though, so our colours are so different than yours. I enjoyed the sun on the day we were there but I really prefer the feeling of your pictures.
Can't wait for the next installment!
Can't wait for the next installment!
Dec 30th, 2010, 08:50 AM
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Thanks GTG! It really was too funny, every time we go somewhere with a nice view its too foggy to see!
We have a bunch more pics and Scott is still writing every day but we dont have WIFI to upload as the Sheraton in Lisbon charges 11 euros a day and I refuse to pay it! So we are checking email etc at the business centre and will upload the backlog on Monday!
Happy Holidays everyone!
We have a bunch more pics and Scott is still writing every day but we dont have WIFI to upload as the Sheraton in Lisbon charges 11 euros a day and I refuse to pay it! So we are checking email etc at the business centre and will upload the backlog on Monday!
Happy Holidays everyone!
Jan 3rd, 2011, 05:41 AM
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And we are back in business!
Day Three – Lisboa, and The Cold (December 29, 2010)
We had a relatively bad night’s sleep last night – we were both awakened at about 3am with the sound of the most torrential rain storm that I’ve heard for quite some time. It sounded like a bucket of water had been upended over the roof of the house – that with wind and the occasional thunder, it was quite the inundation.
Despite this, we managed to drag ourselves out of bed at 9am as usual and got ready, somewhat more lethargically than normal. Breakfast completed, we paid up, grabbed our cases and started the death march back up the bloody hill into Sintra, on our way to the train station. Not sure why we always pick hotels/B&Bs at the bottom of hills, it’s become a minor talent of ours. The hill seemed steeper and much longer than on the walk down the previous night, the several bottles of wine may have helped wit that though.
We found the train station, but couldn’t figure out how to get it to give us two tickets to Lisbon. We eventually admitted defeat and went inside to talk to the guy at the ticket office, who sold us two one way passes. The train ride was relatively uneventful, as train rides tend to be. It was interesting going back into Lisbon after just a few days – it reminded us of the outskirts of Paris on the Eurostar as we rode through seemingly endless rows of apartment blocks and graffiti.
Several changes on the train to the metro later, we ended up at our stop and found the nearest exit, which of course was the wrong one. We stood for a while looking at a map, until a nice gentleman took pity on us and directed us to the Sheraton, which happed to be the GIANT building just up the road which said Sheraton on it...typical.
We checked into what has turned out to be the most amazingly modern and stylish hotel I think I’ve ever been in. The hallway leading to our room is a combination of frosted glass wall panels lit from below and dark leather doors and walls. It looks like the entrance to a chic members-only club. Our room is just as amazing – fancy shimmering curtains cover the closet, the bathroom is all glass, the privacy doors being frosted again. Even the blackout blind on the window is electronic. To be fair, it would be quite expensive if we weren’t travelling on Starwoods points, but nevertheless very cool.
We unpacked and headed back to the metro, looking for Bairro Alto and a restaurant for lunch. We found the one we were looking for and had our first (and probably only) experience with the local Portuguese speciality, salt cod. Jamie had hers in fish cake format, whereas mine was plain with chickpeas and potatoes. Not my favourite meal of all time, but it was cheap and the wine was tasty.
After lunch, we walked back toward the big outlook at Bairro Alto for some pictures. On the way, we happened to come across the restaurant we’d booked for dinner –we were quite excited as it had had fairly good reviews and featured a very tasty looking tasting menu. We’d tried to call a few times earlier to confirm our reservation but hadn’t been able to get through. We figured that as long as were standing outside, we’d give it another go.
I finally got to talk to someone, who claimed not to have a reservation listed for us, despite our having received a confirmation email from them a few days previous. She said she wasn’t the person responsible, and would have someone call back in a few minutes. Unlikely, I thought.
We went back to the overlook and took our pictures, before heading down the hill, stopping to tour a church on the way (Igreja de Sao Roque) – ornate and over the top, as expected of churches in Europe.
We ended up in Baixa-Chiado on what turned out to be a very cool pedestrian street, where we found an outdoor cafe for some wine and people-watching. While we were there, I called the restaurant back again, having given them more than an hour. I managed to talk to another guy who confirmed that we weren’t confirmed and that he had no space for us that night. He couldn’t explain why we’re received a confirmation, or what happened to our reservation. He offered us space in his other restaurant, but we weren’t interested. We suggested he book us in the following night and he jumped on that like a drowning man on a life boat.
We stayed at the cafe until the wind got a bit too cold for us (we’d decided to just wear our jumpers) and headed back to the hotel to get changed and find somewhere else for dinner. We ended up choosing a traditional Brazilian place just a few metro stops up from us called Comida de Santo just near the Rato station. Jamie had a traditional grilled meat dish which was excellent, I had a very traditional Rio dish called Feijoada Brasil, which featured black beans in a sauce, with bits of (as far as I could discern) pigs ears, fatty pork bit, and little bits of sausage. The beans and sauce were really tasty...
Throughout the day my cold, which hasn’t been too bad, struck with full force. My nose has been running faster than a cheap alarm clock (fast), I’m coughing and congested. After dinner I declared defeat and we came back to the hotel, stopping briefly in the business centre to check email before heading upstairs for a dose of Lemsip Max, photo editing, and reading. A good first day in Lisbon, all in all.
And our Day 3 photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/jamie.a....eat=directlink
Day Three – Lisboa, and The Cold (December 29, 2010)
We had a relatively bad night’s sleep last night – we were both awakened at about 3am with the sound of the most torrential rain storm that I’ve heard for quite some time. It sounded like a bucket of water had been upended over the roof of the house – that with wind and the occasional thunder, it was quite the inundation.
Despite this, we managed to drag ourselves out of bed at 9am as usual and got ready, somewhat more lethargically than normal. Breakfast completed, we paid up, grabbed our cases and started the death march back up the bloody hill into Sintra, on our way to the train station. Not sure why we always pick hotels/B&Bs at the bottom of hills, it’s become a minor talent of ours. The hill seemed steeper and much longer than on the walk down the previous night, the several bottles of wine may have helped wit that though.
We found the train station, but couldn’t figure out how to get it to give us two tickets to Lisbon. We eventually admitted defeat and went inside to talk to the guy at the ticket office, who sold us two one way passes. The train ride was relatively uneventful, as train rides tend to be. It was interesting going back into Lisbon after just a few days – it reminded us of the outskirts of Paris on the Eurostar as we rode through seemingly endless rows of apartment blocks and graffiti.
Several changes on the train to the metro later, we ended up at our stop and found the nearest exit, which of course was the wrong one. We stood for a while looking at a map, until a nice gentleman took pity on us and directed us to the Sheraton, which happed to be the GIANT building just up the road which said Sheraton on it...typical.
We checked into what has turned out to be the most amazingly modern and stylish hotel I think I’ve ever been in. The hallway leading to our room is a combination of frosted glass wall panels lit from below and dark leather doors and walls. It looks like the entrance to a chic members-only club. Our room is just as amazing – fancy shimmering curtains cover the closet, the bathroom is all glass, the privacy doors being frosted again. Even the blackout blind on the window is electronic. To be fair, it would be quite expensive if we weren’t travelling on Starwoods points, but nevertheless very cool.
We unpacked and headed back to the metro, looking for Bairro Alto and a restaurant for lunch. We found the one we were looking for and had our first (and probably only) experience with the local Portuguese speciality, salt cod. Jamie had hers in fish cake format, whereas mine was plain with chickpeas and potatoes. Not my favourite meal of all time, but it was cheap and the wine was tasty.
After lunch, we walked back toward the big outlook at Bairro Alto for some pictures. On the way, we happened to come across the restaurant we’d booked for dinner –we were quite excited as it had had fairly good reviews and featured a very tasty looking tasting menu. We’d tried to call a few times earlier to confirm our reservation but hadn’t been able to get through. We figured that as long as were standing outside, we’d give it another go.
I finally got to talk to someone, who claimed not to have a reservation listed for us, despite our having received a confirmation email from them a few days previous. She said she wasn’t the person responsible, and would have someone call back in a few minutes. Unlikely, I thought.
We went back to the overlook and took our pictures, before heading down the hill, stopping to tour a church on the way (Igreja de Sao Roque) – ornate and over the top, as expected of churches in Europe.
We ended up in Baixa-Chiado on what turned out to be a very cool pedestrian street, where we found an outdoor cafe for some wine and people-watching. While we were there, I called the restaurant back again, having given them more than an hour. I managed to talk to another guy who confirmed that we weren’t confirmed and that he had no space for us that night. He couldn’t explain why we’re received a confirmation, or what happened to our reservation. He offered us space in his other restaurant, but we weren’t interested. We suggested he book us in the following night and he jumped on that like a drowning man on a life boat.
We stayed at the cafe until the wind got a bit too cold for us (we’d decided to just wear our jumpers) and headed back to the hotel to get changed and find somewhere else for dinner. We ended up choosing a traditional Brazilian place just a few metro stops up from us called Comida de Santo just near the Rato station. Jamie had a traditional grilled meat dish which was excellent, I had a very traditional Rio dish called Feijoada Brasil, which featured black beans in a sauce, with bits of (as far as I could discern) pigs ears, fatty pork bit, and little bits of sausage. The beans and sauce were really tasty...
Throughout the day my cold, which hasn’t been too bad, struck with full force. My nose has been running faster than a cheap alarm clock (fast), I’m coughing and congested. After dinner I declared defeat and we came back to the hotel, stopping briefly in the business centre to check email before heading upstairs for a dose of Lemsip Max, photo editing, and reading. A good first day in Lisbon, all in all.
And our Day 3 photos: http://picasaweb.google.com/jamie.a....eat=directlink
Jan 3rd, 2011, 07:00 AM
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What a great way to get out of the weather in London. After meeting you and Jamie, I knew your report would cover some local restaurants and pubs.
Portugal has never been on my radar, but after reading your commentary and seeing your pictures, I might have to reconsider. I loved the foggy castle pictures and the candid snapshots of people. I am always fascinated by the local people when I travel and want to take pictures, but never seem to do it. After seeing yours, I need to make a better effort of doing that, as they are as much a part of the local atmosphere as the buildings and sights.
Looking forward to reading the rest.
Portugal has never been on my radar, but after reading your commentary and seeing your pictures, I might have to reconsider. I loved the foggy castle pictures and the candid snapshots of people. I am always fascinated by the local people when I travel and want to take pictures, but never seem to do it. After seeing yours, I need to make a better effort of doing that, as they are as much a part of the local atmosphere as the buildings and sights.
Looking forward to reading the rest.
Jan 3rd, 2011, 12:29 PM
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Thanks for the comments everyone - it helps to know people are reading and enjoying!
Day Four – And Then Came the Rains (December 30, 2010)
This morning after a nice lie-in, we made our way eventually to the riverfront at the Praça do Comércio, having stopped briefly for a coffee and pastry for breakfast. We spent some quality time taking photographs of random people as well as the old trams which are still in use before jumping on the only new one around for our ride to Belém to visit the tower and monastery as well as have lunch.
The tram was incredibly crowded; it seemed that we weren’t the only ones planning on touring the monastery today. After a slightly uncomfortable half hour trip, we made it to Belém and piled out of the tram. As we were walking across the road towards the giant building of the monastery, I felt the first few droplets of rain on my face. These turned out to be the outriders of one of the largest downpours I’ve ever seen – by the time we made it to the safety of one of the giant doors; both Jamie and I were completely drenched.
We got our umbrellas out of my backpack and went to look at the queue to get into the monastery proper – it was huge, even with the rain. We decided that discretion was the better part of valour and went to find a restaurant for an early lunch. We stopped at the first one we came across that looked half decent and went in – we were the only ones there.
We avoided the salt cod, having had our fill yesterday, and chose the oven roasted chicken and veal, with a bottle of red wine to share. Both turned out to be quite tasty, and the wine as always was excellent for the price. By the time we were finished, the place was absolutely heaving with not a spare seat to be had and a queue out the door.
From there we walked along the riverfront to the Torre de Belém, getting only slightly lost on the way (why they decided to put a break in the river frontage is beyond me...they’ll probably say something about having to be able to get to the docks on the other side, but that just sounds like excuses to me).
As we are very cheap sometimes, we decided not to pay to go into the tower, as it is just a tower. I know that many people will disagree with this, and argue that it is so much more, and has historical significance and a depth of meaning and history, but I argue that I only have so many euros to spend on this trip, and I’d rather spend them on wine than going into towers that I don’t really know much about to start with. We did, however, take many photos of the outside, entirely for free.
Photos taken, hair appropriately wind-swept (it was still very windy, although no longer raining), we walked over the pedestrian overpass to look for the tram back to either the Monastery or Lisbon, depending on the queue at the Monastery. Unfortunately, some poor idiots had managed to have an accident on the tram tracks and everything was shut down. We managed to find a tram sitting on the track just before the accident site with its doors open, and being very clever, we jumped on board (after first checking with the somewhat bemused conductor, who couldn’t understand why we’d want to sit on a tram that wasn’t moving – he hadn’t checked the accident site as we had, and didn’t know that they were about to tow away the second of the two offending cars, thus clearing the track. Beyond that, if we went to the next stop, everyone who had been waiting at that stop would be waiting to get on and it would be chaos, whereas we would ALREADY BE ON, and have seats).
All our cleverness was for nought, however, as the tram stopped at the very next stop (as they do) and conductor announced that this particular tram was in fact terminating right there. Damnit! We had to get off the tram and stand with the rest of the non-clever plebs and wait for the next tram, on which we didn’t even immediately get a seat. So annoying. Plus, the queue at the Monastery was actually longer than earlier, so we didn’t even want to do that. We decided to go back to Lisbon central to calm our shattered nerves with a medicinal glass of wine or port.
We managed to get to the big pedestrian street in the Chiado before we felt those few fateful and portentous drops of rain that seem to presage a deluge here in Lisbon. Fortunately for us, we happened to be standing directly beside an outdoor yet covered cafe, which was convenient. We commandeered a table for four which one lone guy was sitting at (it was raining, desperate times and all) and ordered two glasses of wine, just for something different. We spent an enjoyable half hour or so watching people and enjoying our very tasty yet reasonably priced beverages before deciding that the rain, which had been so furious, had abated to a degree that would allow us to continue our walk up the road.
It turns out that the pedestrian street that runs on the middle of Chiado is excellent for window shopping and photography. We did quite a bit of both before feeling a few more sprinkles and diving into the first likely looking covered outdoor bar that would could find. We shared another half-bottle of somewhat decent vinho tinto (red wine, I’m almost fluent at this point). This particular location was somewhat less advantageous for people-watching, being located just behind the very busy Restauradores, so after our drink(s) we left, heading back to the hotel to refresh ourselves before our massive dinner which had been planned for the evening.
Dinner was at the oddly named 100 Maneires (or something very similar), the restaurant I’d had the extended and repeated conversations with the previous night. As we are not so good with the weather, we had decided not to bring our umbrellas with us, thinking that the worst of the rain must be behind us. We were wrong. It was torrential. As if the heavens themselves had opened and those who had not the foresight to build large boats would find themselves in serious difficulties. Despite this, we arrived at the door of the restaurant at 7:40 for our 8pm reservation. This, apparently, is not the done thing.
We pressed what appeared to be a buzzer at the unlit and vastly not-open front door, and waited under the overhand of the balcony above the door, wondering what to do next. The rain continued. A man on a motorcycle arrived with plastic carrier bags tied over his shoes, parked next to us, removed said carrier bags, and then went into the front door of the restaurant, closing it firmly behind him. We were astounded by his audacity, as he’d even commented on the terrible weather before sliding past us and through the portal to warmth and light. I was not impressed, and was seriously thinking of leaving for the restaurant around the corner that I’d read about in a magazine the previous day. Instead, I knocked loudly on the door, waited a few minutes, then knocked again, even more insistently.
The door was opened by a chef-looking guy who seemed startled to see us. I explained that we had reservations for 8pm that night, but that we were a bit early by 10 minutes but could we come inside as we were getting drenched in the rain. He was clearly taken aback by this request, and said quite shortly that no, they open at 8pm and we must wait. In this rain, I asked? He merely shrugged and repeated that they opened at 8pm, and then closed the door firmly. I started walking up the road, away from the restaurant.
Jamie called me back, wanting to give them another chance. A few angry and very damp minutes later, the door opened and Mr. Motorcycle Man invited us in, saying that they don’t open until 8, and were still cleaning, but they’d rather have us wait inside in the dry than stand outside in the cold and rain. By this time, unfortunately, the crowd had grown to about 9 of us, all of whom were wet and a bit annoyed. Jamie and I went in and stood awkwardly in the doorway as the woman who had come in behind us asked why she was made to wait in the rain when she clearly had reservations at 7:45 that evening?
This was the beginning of rather a theme for the rest of the evening. It seems that the owners of the restaurant had actually opened two restaurants with THE SAME NAME, a few blocks away from each other. There is no indication on the website that this is the case; they share the same business card, the same email address, and the same reservations phone number. Apparently the owners don’t feel that this could be confusing, however the general public does. While we were there, no fewer than 7 groups discovered that they’d made reservations at the other branch and were turned away. One very angry woman even went through the trouble of filling out a form in The Complaints Book – a book of complaints that as far as we can tell every business in Portugal has to have, with forms in triplicate, and far-reaching and severe implications. On the plus side for us, we were given a free glass of champers to apologise for losing our reservations from the previous night and making us wait in the rain.
Fortunately, the quality of dinner made up for the annoyances encountered in getting in. At this particular branch of the restaurant, they only offer a 10 course tasting menu, with no options (other than for children or allergies). It was bloody fantastic. We’ve eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world, from Michelin Three Stars to rural bistros in France run by people who simply love food, to my dad’s barbequed salmon (caught fresh in the Pacific earlier that day...not by my dad but close enough). This was up there with the best that we’d had. I could get very pretentious and comment on the finer points of the balance of flavours on some of the dishes, or plating, but that would miss the point (other than the reservation process – that was atrocious). This meal cost €35 each, but would have been at least double if not triple in London or Paris. I would come back to Lisbon simply to eat there again.
After dinner, we stumbled down the side-streets in Bairro Alto, discovering yet another side of Lisbon – the back alley bars which only seem to open after the sun has gone down. I can imagine that in the heat of the summer, this is the absolute place to be in Lisbon. Even in the drizzle and relative chill of late December, there were loads of people about having a good time (including one insistent young man who seemed to be convinced that my lifelong desire was to buy some hash from him). We bar-hopped down the alley, enjoying some very tasty beverages as we went, before finally making our way to the metro station at Baixa-Chiado and heading for home.
And the Day 4 pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/jamie.a....eat=directlink
Day Four – And Then Came the Rains (December 30, 2010)
This morning after a nice lie-in, we made our way eventually to the riverfront at the Praça do Comércio, having stopped briefly for a coffee and pastry for breakfast. We spent some quality time taking photographs of random people as well as the old trams which are still in use before jumping on the only new one around for our ride to Belém to visit the tower and monastery as well as have lunch.
The tram was incredibly crowded; it seemed that we weren’t the only ones planning on touring the monastery today. After a slightly uncomfortable half hour trip, we made it to Belém and piled out of the tram. As we were walking across the road towards the giant building of the monastery, I felt the first few droplets of rain on my face. These turned out to be the outriders of one of the largest downpours I’ve ever seen – by the time we made it to the safety of one of the giant doors; both Jamie and I were completely drenched.
We got our umbrellas out of my backpack and went to look at the queue to get into the monastery proper – it was huge, even with the rain. We decided that discretion was the better part of valour and went to find a restaurant for an early lunch. We stopped at the first one we came across that looked half decent and went in – we were the only ones there.
We avoided the salt cod, having had our fill yesterday, and chose the oven roasted chicken and veal, with a bottle of red wine to share. Both turned out to be quite tasty, and the wine as always was excellent for the price. By the time we were finished, the place was absolutely heaving with not a spare seat to be had and a queue out the door.
From there we walked along the riverfront to the Torre de Belém, getting only slightly lost on the way (why they decided to put a break in the river frontage is beyond me...they’ll probably say something about having to be able to get to the docks on the other side, but that just sounds like excuses to me).
As we are very cheap sometimes, we decided not to pay to go into the tower, as it is just a tower. I know that many people will disagree with this, and argue that it is so much more, and has historical significance and a depth of meaning and history, but I argue that I only have so many euros to spend on this trip, and I’d rather spend them on wine than going into towers that I don’t really know much about to start with. We did, however, take many photos of the outside, entirely for free.
Photos taken, hair appropriately wind-swept (it was still very windy, although no longer raining), we walked over the pedestrian overpass to look for the tram back to either the Monastery or Lisbon, depending on the queue at the Monastery. Unfortunately, some poor idiots had managed to have an accident on the tram tracks and everything was shut down. We managed to find a tram sitting on the track just before the accident site with its doors open, and being very clever, we jumped on board (after first checking with the somewhat bemused conductor, who couldn’t understand why we’d want to sit on a tram that wasn’t moving – he hadn’t checked the accident site as we had, and didn’t know that they were about to tow away the second of the two offending cars, thus clearing the track. Beyond that, if we went to the next stop, everyone who had been waiting at that stop would be waiting to get on and it would be chaos, whereas we would ALREADY BE ON, and have seats).
All our cleverness was for nought, however, as the tram stopped at the very next stop (as they do) and conductor announced that this particular tram was in fact terminating right there. Damnit! We had to get off the tram and stand with the rest of the non-clever plebs and wait for the next tram, on which we didn’t even immediately get a seat. So annoying. Plus, the queue at the Monastery was actually longer than earlier, so we didn’t even want to do that. We decided to go back to Lisbon central to calm our shattered nerves with a medicinal glass of wine or port.
We managed to get to the big pedestrian street in the Chiado before we felt those few fateful and portentous drops of rain that seem to presage a deluge here in Lisbon. Fortunately for us, we happened to be standing directly beside an outdoor yet covered cafe, which was convenient. We commandeered a table for four which one lone guy was sitting at (it was raining, desperate times and all) and ordered two glasses of wine, just for something different. We spent an enjoyable half hour or so watching people and enjoying our very tasty yet reasonably priced beverages before deciding that the rain, which had been so furious, had abated to a degree that would allow us to continue our walk up the road.
It turns out that the pedestrian street that runs on the middle of Chiado is excellent for window shopping and photography. We did quite a bit of both before feeling a few more sprinkles and diving into the first likely looking covered outdoor bar that would could find. We shared another half-bottle of somewhat decent vinho tinto (red wine, I’m almost fluent at this point). This particular location was somewhat less advantageous for people-watching, being located just behind the very busy Restauradores, so after our drink(s) we left, heading back to the hotel to refresh ourselves before our massive dinner which had been planned for the evening.
Dinner was at the oddly named 100 Maneires (or something very similar), the restaurant I’d had the extended and repeated conversations with the previous night. As we are not so good with the weather, we had decided not to bring our umbrellas with us, thinking that the worst of the rain must be behind us. We were wrong. It was torrential. As if the heavens themselves had opened and those who had not the foresight to build large boats would find themselves in serious difficulties. Despite this, we arrived at the door of the restaurant at 7:40 for our 8pm reservation. This, apparently, is not the done thing.
We pressed what appeared to be a buzzer at the unlit and vastly not-open front door, and waited under the overhand of the balcony above the door, wondering what to do next. The rain continued. A man on a motorcycle arrived with plastic carrier bags tied over his shoes, parked next to us, removed said carrier bags, and then went into the front door of the restaurant, closing it firmly behind him. We were astounded by his audacity, as he’d even commented on the terrible weather before sliding past us and through the portal to warmth and light. I was not impressed, and was seriously thinking of leaving for the restaurant around the corner that I’d read about in a magazine the previous day. Instead, I knocked loudly on the door, waited a few minutes, then knocked again, even more insistently.
The door was opened by a chef-looking guy who seemed startled to see us. I explained that we had reservations for 8pm that night, but that we were a bit early by 10 minutes but could we come inside as we were getting drenched in the rain. He was clearly taken aback by this request, and said quite shortly that no, they open at 8pm and we must wait. In this rain, I asked? He merely shrugged and repeated that they opened at 8pm, and then closed the door firmly. I started walking up the road, away from the restaurant.
Jamie called me back, wanting to give them another chance. A few angry and very damp minutes later, the door opened and Mr. Motorcycle Man invited us in, saying that they don’t open until 8, and were still cleaning, but they’d rather have us wait inside in the dry than stand outside in the cold and rain. By this time, unfortunately, the crowd had grown to about 9 of us, all of whom were wet and a bit annoyed. Jamie and I went in and stood awkwardly in the doorway as the woman who had come in behind us asked why she was made to wait in the rain when she clearly had reservations at 7:45 that evening?
This was the beginning of rather a theme for the rest of the evening. It seems that the owners of the restaurant had actually opened two restaurants with THE SAME NAME, a few blocks away from each other. There is no indication on the website that this is the case; they share the same business card, the same email address, and the same reservations phone number. Apparently the owners don’t feel that this could be confusing, however the general public does. While we were there, no fewer than 7 groups discovered that they’d made reservations at the other branch and were turned away. One very angry woman even went through the trouble of filling out a form in The Complaints Book – a book of complaints that as far as we can tell every business in Portugal has to have, with forms in triplicate, and far-reaching and severe implications. On the plus side for us, we were given a free glass of champers to apologise for losing our reservations from the previous night and making us wait in the rain.
Fortunately, the quality of dinner made up for the annoyances encountered in getting in. At this particular branch of the restaurant, they only offer a 10 course tasting menu, with no options (other than for children or allergies). It was bloody fantastic. We’ve eaten at some of the best restaurants in the world, from Michelin Three Stars to rural bistros in France run by people who simply love food, to my dad’s barbequed salmon (caught fresh in the Pacific earlier that day...not by my dad but close enough). This was up there with the best that we’d had. I could get very pretentious and comment on the finer points of the balance of flavours on some of the dishes, or plating, but that would miss the point (other than the reservation process – that was atrocious). This meal cost €35 each, but would have been at least double if not triple in London or Paris. I would come back to Lisbon simply to eat there again.
After dinner, we stumbled down the side-streets in Bairro Alto, discovering yet another side of Lisbon – the back alley bars which only seem to open after the sun has gone down. I can imagine that in the heat of the summer, this is the absolute place to be in Lisbon. Even in the drizzle and relative chill of late December, there were loads of people about having a good time (including one insistent young man who seemed to be convinced that my lifelong desire was to buy some hash from him). We bar-hopped down the alley, enjoying some very tasty beverages as we went, before finally making our way to the metro station at Baixa-Chiado and heading for home.
And the Day 4 pics: http://picasaweb.google.com/jamie.a....eat=directlink
Jan 3rd, 2011, 06:39 PM
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Wow! €35 each for a 10 course meal, that is a bargain! You've got me thinking I need to get back to Lisbon. It's been 20+ years since I was there last and it seems I need to avail myself of the food and beverage experiences there! 
