Because weather had delayed us leaving Charlotte, we were over an hour late arriving. We should have arrived at 9:45 but it was closer to 11. There was a moment of unrest at the baggage carousel as we looked for our ginormous duffel bag with two backpacks containing everything we would need for 30 days of hiking, but finally it arrived in good condition. We heaved it off the carousel, changed some money and had the first opportunity to speak some Portuguese.
Mario Jorge and Dina Marques had arranged to pick us up at the airport and there was no feeling like seeing them waiting for us as we cleared customs and left the arrivals area. We worked together with this sweet couple for nearly eight years. Dina was a school teacher, translator, pastor's wife, camp volunteer and mother of three very active and wonderful little boys. She had introduced our family to Portuguese cuisine at the Baptist camp and we had a good laugh about the seafood casserole that arrived at our table with tentacles sticking up out of the rice. The looks on the children's faces were priceless. Mario Jorge directs the Baptist book store, pastors the church at Mem Martins and coordinated a ton of Magnolia volunteers who built a dormitory at the Baptist camp. I still remember the going away party the church in Mem Martins threw for us when we left in 2001. Mario Jorge walked us out to the car to say goodbye privately and the last thing I remember seeing was him standing on the sidewalk waving to us as we drove away.
It was so fitting to see them standing there at the arrivals area with big smiles on their faces. Of course, they had not aged one bit, and neither had we, so we were able to pick up right where we left off. Except that they were still able to speak Portuguese fluently and we were struggling a bit with it. Try teaching Spanish for ten years and see how quickly your Portuguese comes back!
The Marqueses had offered to put us up at the pastoral residence in Merces so we drove the IC19 out to Mem Martins and wound up at the church's apartment which would be home to us overnight and when we return from Spain. We will leave our carry ons and the big red duffle bag and head out tomorrow night with just our backpacks.
We dropped our bags off at the apartment and did what I had been wanting to do for a while--brush my teeth! Nothing like going three meals and a night flight to grow fuzz on your teeth! We freshened up and rejoined Mario Jorge and Dina for the short hop to Tapada das Merces, a housing area filled with high rise apartments. Mario Jorge reminded us that this "county" (they don't actually call them that) we are in is the most densely populated per capita in all of Europe. Take a look at the pictures and you can believe it! People on top of people.
But the one thing we wanted to do was to find the little churrasqueira ("grill" restaurant) right next door to our old apartment. We wanted to see if the grilled chicken, salad, french fries, rice, bread, butter and olives was a delicious as we remembered it. Guess what--it was! Not a fancy meal, but oh so delicious.
I didn't remember the street number of the apartment where we had lived, but it wasn't hard to find. The 11-story building sits on the side of a hill so if you go in the front door there are only about five floors up, but you could also take the elevator about six floors down and come out on the other side of the building at street level. Weird. But we found the building and had to have our picture made both at the restaurant and at our old doorway. We laughed when we thought about the passersby wondering why we had come from America to have our picture made at such a mundane location when there were other nicer sights to see not far away. But this place was special to us!
After lunch Dina drove us to Sintra and it was just as we remembered it--about 10 degrees cooler than Lisbon (the Portuguese kings used to spend the summer here), filled with tourists, palaces, shops, restaurants and all manner of things to see. We were in search of "pillows". Pillows and coffee. "Pillows" was the name given to a pastry made famous in Sintra, getting its name from the long elongated form. We had them at the pastry shop that had made them famous, and I had my first Portuguese espresso coffee. Oh! There is no better coffee in the world than that which is made in a million coffee shops in Portugal. An espresso costs 50 euros, or about 75 cents, and a cappucino will run you about a buck in U.S. dollars. They are served in real ceramic cups, as coffee should be served. Starbucks would never make it in Portugal because of their price and paper cups!
We finished our coffee, walked around some, bought a souvenir, watched the tourist and spent a little time watching one of the street actors who frequent the tourist destinations. This guy was painted all in metallic color and stood on a box motionless until someone dropped a coin into his bucket. I did and he immediately lunged at me with his spear. About that time Sharon comes walking up, so I drop TWO coins into his bucket and point at her. He takes one look at her and lunges at me! I hadn't given him enough money to make it worth his while to tangle with her!
Sintra is a U.N. World Heritage tourist destination and we had lived just a short drive away. It was so nice to visit again and see all of the beautiful sights. Following a little tourism and coffee break, we were feeling a little droopy and relished the idea of an afternoon nap. The Marqueses dropped us off and headed back to Lisbon and we made plans to meet them for breakfast before church tomorrow. It was a nice nap, having not slept much on the plane, but we were careful to set an alarm so as not to sleep too long. The best strategy for getting over jet lag when travelling east to west is to stay up until bedtime that first day. You're then ready to get up the next morning at more or less a normal time.
After the short rest, we set out on foot to explore Tapada das Merces and "matar as nossas saudades" as the Portuguese would say. We walked about a mile from the pastorium, looking for the train station crossing that would lead up to Tapada. However, we missed it and wound up walking the long way around and up a rather steep hill into our old stomping grounds. You will never guess who we ran into as we started up the hill. You guessed it!
I don't know how they got here, but they were looking trim, fit and rested and the hill didn't seem to be bothering them, nor the growing heat (85 degrees!) which we had not expected. So after visiting with Shadowman and Shadowwoman briefly, we crossed the street to the nearest coffee shop and ordered a couple of Coke products and a "pastel de nata", or cream pastry. Mmmm, delicious!
Finishing up our refreshments, we walked on up past our old apartment building where we snapped a few more pictures, then headed back down the hill to the Floresta Center shopping center. This is a small shopping center with three floors and formerly a movie theatre. The theatre had closed as well as the Pizza Hut and several other shops, but there was a coffee shop on the third floor that beckoned to us. The young lady behind the counter was from Mozambique and she talked us into ordering a chicken empanada with our coffee. It was a small pastry that tasted something like chicken pot pie, and it was delicious. We had a "meia de leite" which I guess would be the equivalent of a "cafe con leche" or a cappucino. Served in a ceramic cup as coffee should be, it cost only a buck. Did I mention Starbucks wouldn't make it here? Actually what we need in the U.S. would be millions of Portuguese coffee shops selling reasonably priced coffee and delicious pastries!
We finished our third coffee break of the day and headed back to our apartment. It was nice to take a hot shower. Most all of the hot water heaters here are the "on demand" type. Instead of keeping 80 gallons or so of water heated 24/7, the wall-mounted unit will heat the water as long as you need it, but only when you need it.
After much needed and well deserved showers, we prepared a couple of ham and cheese sandwiches and set down to read and update the blog.
Tomorrow morning we well have breakfast at the Pastelaria Central. It is a bustling place with every kind of pastry imaginable. I remember taking the kids there one Sunday because Sharon had some duty at church for which she had to be there early. John, Natalie and I entered and soon the young Brazilian man working there took our order. We returned the following week but he seemed to take a while coming to the table to take our order. But by and by he came to the table carrying a tray, loaded down with precisely what we ordered the previous week. That's apparently how it's done here! I'm going to see if the guy is there tomorrow and remembers what I usually get!
So it will soon be lights out. We will prepare our Sunday clothes and have our backpacks loaded with what we need for the trip. Sunday School, worship service, a Portuguese potluck, then a visit to downtown await us tomorrow. Sometime after 9 pm we will get on the train for Spain, but until then we have a little time left here. I snapped a photo out the window as the day draws to a close.
Boa noite a todos!
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