Parede

 

Another week, another AirBNB stay in Lisbon.

As much as I’d like to head to Madeira and start the apartment search in earnest, I’m hesitating for multiple reasons. 1. I want to be in Lisbon near the migration office in case they need something.  2. I don’t look forward to dealing with another plane ride, even a short one.  I’m enjoying the break from security searches and having to throw away perfectly good items to lighten my load. 3. The less time I spend on travel, the more time devoted to the job search.

And it is pretty soul-crushing.  I got through a couple of rounds of tests for a copywriter position that I really wanted, then my writing sample got rejected.  With over 13,000 applicants, not only could the company afford to be picky, but they didn’t even have time to offer me any feedback.  So, I’m left to stew in my disappointment while racking my brain to figure out what I did wrong and how to improve it.  Oh, the glamorous life of a writer.

Since the transition from happy wanderer to unemployable loser has been a sobering one, I’m thrilled to find that most cafes serve excellent caipirinhas.  No, it’s not like I’m getting drunk every day.  But after looking for jobs in the morning (and the subsequent depression), I look forward to my walk, my lunch, and my drank.

This practice continued in the new apartment that I chose specifically because it is near the beach.  Parede is located further up the coast from Lisbon, just south of Cascais.  A bit of a drive from my last place in Sacavem in the north, but well worth it.

I had to wait a while when I got to the place as the host’s assistant was late getting there.  But once the surfer-looking Claudio showed up, he got me inside the apartment and showed me around.  This is a nicely laid out spot with a decent sized kitchen and bathroom.  I was impressed.

Then Claudio showed me something that would be a source of amusement for the rest of the week.  All the buildings in the area are equipped with electric blinds.  With a flip of a switch, you can plunge a sunny room into complete darkness.  It was so dark in the bedroom at night that I couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.  I took this picture to show the difference between the bedroom on the left and the cavernous void that is the kitchen on the right.  This was at 8 a.m.

The blinds also made the place soundproof.  Lying in the bedroom at night would have felt like a sensory deprivation chamber if not for the sound of the oscillating fan.  The only sound coming through the walls was in the bathroom.

A last note about that bathroom.  While I wasn’t crazy about the tiny shower with no shelf for product, or its close proximity to the toilet, this faucet is the hotness.  Kinda drippy if you don’t jigger the handle properly, but still, that is a sexy faucet.

Within a short walking distance is the beautiful coastline.  Most of the area is made up of rocky cliffs, but in between the rocks are sandy areas of various sizes.  The weather was hot and sunny, even in late September, so all but the tiniest beaches are covered with people. 

The coast is lined with surf schools, one of which even posts a sign offering classes all year round.  There were surfers everywhere, on the shore teaching classes, running past the cafes to get to the water, bobbing along in the waves.  Can’t say I blame them.  The water is gorgeous. 

I ventured to get my feet wet one day, but hesitated when my I took my shoes off.  The sand was way too cold.  I soon found out why when the surf came in.  That water is freezing!  Why?  The temps hovered around 85 degrees every day.  It’s September – you’d think the water would have warmed over the summer.  But nope. 

And yet the surfers (in body suits, admittedly) still clamored for the sea.  I’ll stick to just staring at the waves, thank you very much.  In doing that, I could see multiple jellyfish floating around.  I found one washed up on the beach that was the size of my head, confirming my notion that the ocean was best enjoyed from far inland.  I’ve already been stung once this summer.  Not looking for a repeat.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again; the Portuguese are a hardy people. Like the last apartment, my new one has no air conditioning, just fans.  Couple the warm living quarters with being willing to dive into frigid water, and these folks are a lot more tolerant of extremes than I am. Even after sweating profusely throughout every day, I have no interest in jumping into an ice bath filled with jellyfish.