Lisbon on Repeat

 

Nope.  Portugal is still awesome!

My first day back in Lisbon was wet and miserable.   The wind was trying to rip the jacket off my body and turn my umbrella into modern art.  The tiled walkways (while pretty) kept tripping me up and threatened to rip the wheels off my new new bag (so far so good – this one is a Samsonite which is supposed to be top of the line and it better be for what I paid for it).  I still, embarrassingly, don’t know any Portuguese, having instead learned more Turkish during the last few months.  None of that stopped the city from being amazing.

I loved that I remembered the Metro system, loved going through the city to get to the shore where the wind was kicking up some water, loved the feeling of being that much closer to establishing a new home.  I was so thrilled to be out of the states again for numerous reasons (more on that later). But first, getting out of the states.

I flew out of Logan on Tap Portugal, the country’s official airline.  I’d flown this carrier between Lisbon and Madeira, but this was my first long flight with them.  As this plane had the screens in the back of the seats, the flight safety demo was in video form.  This thing was amazing. It almost brought me to tears.  Yes, I’m a big goober, but it hit me particularly hard.  The video was full of people of all races, colors, genders, and nationalities who had immigrated to Portugal and were speaking in Portuguese.  British guy, Caribbean woman, German guy – all these folks who had gone through the process I want to start and come out the other side, still happily residing in the country and assimilating by learning the language.  All while showing these people enjoying the beaches, the food, the culture.  It’s an awesome way to introduce newbies to the country.  Go check it out.

TAP Safety Video 2018 - YouTube

That video was pretty much the end of the goodness on that flight.  We went through awful turbulence crossing the pond, making it difficult to sleep or eat.   I had a window seat, but as much as I tried to jam myself against the side of the plane, the woman next to me kept elbowing me throughout the flight. It was too hot in the cabin.  The design of the plane itself made no sense.  The controls above the seats were too high to reach while the gap between the seat and the window was too wide for comfort.  I couldn’t wait to get off that plane even knowing what would come next.

By that I mean that the flight was an overnighter so I arrived in Lisbon at 5 in the morning.  Check in for my Airbnb was at 3 and I couldn’t move that time up.  Time to wait and boy … do I love to wait.  Just love it so much.

I managed about 2 hours in the airport before I was itching to leave.  It was a little wet outside, but I figured the rain had stopped.  I caught the Metro per the host’s instructions and emerged at the Bela Vista station to discover that a light drizzle had started.  Oh well, I thought, I was already here.  How far could it be to get to the building?

Yeah, it was far enough.  The rain picked up as I crossed busy, unfamiliar streets, lugged all my bags, and hoped that I wouldn’t pop another wheel on those uneven Portuguese tiles.  I found the building (one of many brightly colored apartment complexes in this area) and went to the café at its base.  Wet, tired, and regretting not staying at the airport where it was dry and there was a bathroom, I found an awning and used it as shelter until the worst of the rain stopped.

When I got a break in the weather, I ventured into the café and ordered an espresso (um café).  I offered to pay too much, confusing the woman who only spoke Portuguese.  Another customer who apparently spoke English, Portuguese, and French translated for me and I took my tiny cup of coffee and sat down.  I sipped as slowly as I could to prolong my stay, really feeling dumb for not knowing more of the language.  I managed to stay there for a while before the owner tired of my luggage taking up space and gestured for me to move. 

Back to the awning I went until the host finally appeared.  He got me upstairs, giving me detailed instructions about everything.  A little much, but I appreciated it.  He was a friendly Russian man who told me about his wife and four kids and how he’d immigrated to the country 22 years ago.  I told him my plans and he assured me I could do it.  Wishing me luck on everything, he left me to it.

Now this is an apartment I could live in.  The place has two bedrooms, a kitchen with an oven and a separate laundry room on the balcony.  I could use a little more counter space in the kitchen and could lose the bidet for some more counter space in the bathroom, but the place was definitely doable.  The nearby train station provided access all over the city and was right next to the biggest Pingo Doce I’d ever seen.  This grocery store was more like an American Walmart than any store I’d encountered in Portugal.

Like a woman possessed, I went straight to the extensive wine section.  I’m here!  I’m finally back in Portugal!  Where is my wine?  I could not find it!  What I did find was Casal Garcia’s sweet wine (it was okay – kinda tasted like sparkling apple cider).  I figured out that the blank space next to the sweet stuff was for my Vinho Verde and the reason it was sold out was that it was on sale.  Normal price was about 4-5 euros. The sale price was three bucks – no wonder it was sold out.  But still … don’t these people know I’ve been deprived for three whole weeks?  They have access to this wine all the time – that wine was mine! (picture a grown woman stomping her feet and pouting in the middle of the wine section)

No matter.  This is still Portugal.  I figured I wouldn’t have a problem finding my wine elsewhere.

This trip to Lisbon was based all around the appointment I’d made with a placement service to start the visa process, still a week away.  In the meantime, I worked to get my mind out of vacation mode and back to being a responsible adult.  Time to look for a (gulp) job and an apartment.

Still, there was plenty I hadn’t seen in the city.  I’d noticed a train stop labeled Jardim de Zoological.  Sure, I could visit the zoo.

The place is called a zoo garden for a reason.  It really is like a big park with benches and fountains and look!  There’s a giraffe! 

It is a gorgeous place to spend the day.  There are cafes outside of the official entrance, so you don’t necessarily need to buy a ticket to see the animals.  You can just as easily hang out, get a glass of beer or wine, and have lunch among the pigeons and peacocks.  Just don’t let the big birds steal your lunch – the peacocks roam freely throughout the area and believe me; they own the place and are not even remotely scared of you.