Traveling without enough preparation has gotten me into a lot of trouble before, it’s how we were scammed in India. Somehow, I again flew to a country I had never been to before without reading anything about it. I didn’t even look up Lisbon on Wikipedia. This time it was more of a happy accident than a lesson.
Interesting Tidbits about Lisbon
- One of the oldest cities in the world
- Second-oldest capital in Europe
First Day:
As soon as we arrived and my phone connected to the Portuguese signal, the time on my phone jumped back an hour. I had not been aware that Portugal is in a different time zone. It explained the delayed flight, which according to the pilot was landing 20 minutes early.
Stubborn as I am, I decided to walk into the city from the airport, as it is not too far, and I had some time to waste before I could check-in at my hostel (most hostels you can show up early, leave your stuff there, explore, and come back later for check-in, no questions asked — but I have social anxiety). Close to the airport, I stumbled upon a park, in which I ate “breakfast”, aka some cookies and candy bars. Tired as I was I strolled through the city wilderness until I found a quiet corner on top of a small hill, where I listened to a true crime podcast (And That’s Why We Drink) for hours, yes hours. It was great, and I might have fallen asleep for a bit.
After a quick grocery run for some more snacks and Lipton Iced Tea — which somehow has become a Thing I drink here in Portugal, I’ve never bought a can of iced tea before, I don’t really do soft drinks too often but traveling changes you — after buying some groceries I ate lunch at a small vegetarian restaurant close by my hostel. While the food didn’t blow my mind, they had amazing, fresh juice.
De-realization often hits me hard after drastic changes, especially when I’m tired and feeling insecure or vulnerable or both (anxiety-related). Thus I spent a large part of the afternoon in the hostel, chatting with some of the other guests, and just enjoying the WiFi. In the early evening I strolled down towards the bay, stumbling over the uneven cobblestone of the sidewalk, and enjoying the sun. It’s dangerous: you’re just walking down the road, looking around as any tourist would, and then the street dips into a hollow, and you thump down — like missing the last step when walking up the stairs.
My first impression of Lisbon was amazement. Walking towards the city center from the airport really puts the city into perspective, as you walk from more modern apartment blocks to old buildings with beautiful tiles (I was not aware Lisbon, or Portugal in general, is known for these tiles. How embarrassing. How did I not know?). Around where I was staying, and down to the harbor there are tons of international supermarkets and restaurants: Indian, Nepali, east asian. I saw Jalebi, Samosas, and loads of helal signs, and immediately fell in love with the city.
I sat down at the Cais das Colunas for a while, watching the waves, and enjoying the view of the bay. It was quite windy, and while it was warm in the sun, sitting in the shade was a bit goosebumps-inducing. I strolled back to the hostel, soaking up the new impressions, and admiring the intricate tiles. That evening I stayed in, and didn’t go out for dinner because I’m great at taking care of myself. Instead I ate more snacks and bananas, and watched Heartstopper (squeezed my heart dry, and left me all nice and emotional) while the people in my room were rehearsing an opera performance: three people snoring in different rhythms, pitch, and volume.
Second Day:
After sleeping in I allowed myself the luxury of finishing Heartstopper while relaxing in bed. Afterwards, I set up the first blog post about Milano, which took longer than expected as I was still learning how to work with the website designer, and finding a style I liked. For lunch I went to a South Indian restaurant, which someone in the hostel had recommended to me. It was decent, and the Dosas were huge.
Later, I walked over the hills to the botanical garden. Cresting the peak, I crossed over into a different part of town. Along the Av. Da Liberdade I found a wealthier, more polished Lisbon with shaded walkways and five star hotels. Up another hill, I arrived at the garden, though locating the entrance was another story. First, I walked towards the exit, following someone else, and got redirected by an employee. The woman I had followed and I shared a glance, and a laugh, and started talking. This is how I met Stella from Lecco, Italy, who was about to also walk a Camino but further south not to Santiago. It did give us ample conversation material for the hike through the botanical garden, though. We geeked out over the beautiful flowers, exchanging numbers because we wanted to send each other the photos of the garden.
After the garden we agreed to get dinner together but first stopped for a beer at one of the Cafés in a park. We enjoyed the view of the city and the bay from the Jardim de Sao Pedro de Alcântara before diving into the narrow streets of the Bairro Alto. Here we found a small Tapas Restaurant called Leve Leve, where we ordered everything cheese as well as multiple beers. It was delicious and very cheesy. For dessert we shared an amazing chocolate cake with a melting chocolate center and strawberry sauce and vanilla ice cream. I paid for the both of us as I was feeling grateful for the amazing company and the unadulterated happiness swirling through my veins along with the alcohol. Stella felt the need for retribution which is how we ended up in a bar/club for cocktails and way too many tequila shots. The evening is a bit blurry starting from the second cocktail and first shot.
We started dancing as soon as the club was filling up with a few people. Somehow we had ended up in a queer establishment with a drag queen DJ; at one point I walked up to her to compliment her amazing make-up and outfit. Dancing with Stella who is a great dancer as well as other queers was amazing and so much fun. I could let loose, dancing to my hearts content. At some point in the evening I met two guys from Portland, Oregon, and one of them would stick around to the end of the night, dancing with us. It was a great night, definitely going down as one of the best of my life — I love dancing with people, connecting without words, sharing an amazing night whether you speak the same language or not.
Eventually, we left the club to get some fresh air, and Jas offered to get us some water. Together, we dropped off Stella at her hostel, and chatted a bit outside of it. He asked if he could kiss me, and I was like nah please don’t, and it was no issue (the sweetest, most considerate man). He walked me home, and we connected over being queer, and all kinds of topics (still fuzzy, though I was starting to sober up).
Remembering this night makes me smile.
Third Day:
I woke up super hungover at 11:30. After falling out of bed, and taking a shower I met Stella for lunch in an Asian food court at the Martim Moniz plaza. They had a variety of different stalls with dumplings, sushi, ramen, and more, as well as an Asian supermarket down below where we bought some soft drinks. I had fried dumplings, exactly what I needed after all the tequila the night before.
Together we walked around for a while, up the Av. da Liberdade to the Parque Eduardo VII which offers a great view all the way down to the bay. Sadly, Stella had to leave to catch her bus (though she did end up missing it), and I strolled through the city alone for a while, back to the Bairro Alto as I hadn’t fully discovered it the day before due to too many beers and tequila. Random side note: It always smells like weed in this city, every few steps you get a whiff of a joint.
I continued down towards the bay, walking past the famous pink street which isn’t really more than a few sun-bleached umbrellas and painted asphalt. I dipped into the bustling, touristy Time Out Market, and then strolled along the coast to the Sé de Lisboa, the 12th-century cathedral that is the most common starting point of the Camino. I did not go inside as it costs 4€ and I was feeling cheap (I took a peak, and decided nah). The official starting point is up the hill, the Ingreja de Santiago, which was closed, but I sat in front of it for a while, mentally preparing myself, and listening to music.
Further up on top of the hill is the Castelo de S. Jorge but the entrance fee is even more expensive. I ended up exploring the neighborhood, stumbling upon a kids playground with an amazing view over the harbor and the huge cruise ships. It was bordered by a waist-high wall and bushes of lavender, orange trees offering shade, and a gentle breeze blowing past. I leaned against the wall, enjoying the solitude — until a couple popped in, settling at one of the tables to do online Covid tests.
Back down at the foot of the hill, I ate sushi for dinner at the Asian food court, and had bubble tea for dessert. As my phone was dying and I avoid carrying a bag — which is why I didn’t have my power bank with me — I made my way back to the hostel. After relaxing for a bit, I met up with the Americans for their dinner at a fish restaurant where you could hold actual conversations and didn’t have to scream to be heard over the music. I have problems with auditory processing in noisy environments, which means I often employ the tactic of smile, and wave, and nod, and hope you didn’t agree to anything outrageous. Thus, conversations in clubs are my nemesis.
My new American friends were staying at an apartment of a friend who had moved to Lisbon a while back. They had an amazing rooftop balcony from which you could see the bay; it is magical at night. Especially, with fancy red wine and good conversations that flow without awkward pauses. Jas and I shared some music, which is to this day most of our conversations. He recommended me some amazing Portland bands; I love discovering new, small artists. From there I had about an hours walk back to the hostel, but it was a Friday night, and the city was alive at two AM.
Fourth Day:
I extended my stay for another two nights (four nights always seemed to be too short, even when I booked the hostel, but oh boy I had no idea that Lisbon was digging its clutches in deep). This day marked a week of traveling, and despite only six hours of fitful sleep I was ecstatic to be on the road again after Covid. I missed traveling so much.
As my pants were (and still are) slowly disintegrating, I went out shopping to look for new ones. There are multiple Humana stores up and down the Av. Almirante Reis where my hostel was located, as well as clothes stores: I didn’t find any black, high waisted pants with big pockets. Thus I’m still wearing the same pants as I’m writing this now, two weeks or so later. Instead, I bought a new shirt which I love dearly.
Back at the hostel I wrote the post about Bergamo, relaxed a bit, and started earnestly researching the Camino. Needing the lazy day, I was glad I had extended my stay. It also meant I had time to process the last few days. Being unapologetically yourself — as I had been with Stella and Jas — and meeting people that vibe with and like your honest self is amazing and great for self-esteem.
Around midnight I met Jason, Dan, and their friend Chris after they had finished their traditional, Portuguese dinner. We strolled around for a while until we settled in a gay bar. I drank a Rum and Coke which was terrible but reminded me of India, as it was my go to drink there. How quaint. At the bar we met another guy from the states, who used to live in Germany. He was an old-school, flamboyant gay who called us honey, and love, and was an all-around lovely guy.
The bar closed at three AM, and we all went our separate ways. Dan and Chris went home because all three of them were traveling to Porto that day, and Jessie left as well. Jason and I walked through the city until first light, stopping by the “overlook park”, the Jardim de Sao Pedro de Alcântara, and the bay. Deep talks with people are great because sometimes you can share things that are hard to talk about with friends or people that know you well. Sometimes you click with people, and you have a connection that is hard to explain. Jason was a person I clicked with. This night will go down as one of the best of my life.
My notes of the night are a mess. I arrived back at the hostel at nine AM, high on Red Bull and life experiences; coming home at a time where most people go out for breakfast is weird. I took a shower, and was too wired to go sleep only managing an hour or two of light dozing, before I was out of the hostel again
Fifth Day:
The Cemitério do Alto de Sao Joao is beautiful. I adore cemeteries, and have a fascination with the traditions and culture around death. How do people deal with death and mourning, what funeral practices are usual, what kind of graves? Is it a taboo or openly discussed? And Portuguese cemeteries are beautiful.
From there I strolled down to the harbor and the Alfama neighborhood, planning on buying my pilgrim’s credentials at the cathedral. As it was Sunday the church was closed — aka the stalls were closed but you were allowed to enter without paying. Thus, I got to see the interior without paying but left without the credentials. On my way back, I bought some groceries, and stumbled upon the May Day (first of may, labor day) rally. A huge procession with marching bands, and megaphones, and heaps of different organizations.
I had a quiet night in, as I was feeling slightly under the weather. I enjoyed my usual bread with hummus, as well as a fresh ginger-lemon tea. Groceries are insanely cheap here.
Sixth Day:
After a bad nights rest, I woke sweaty and fog-brained. I stayed in, feeling tired. Turns out, I caught Covid. Because of course. I took some self tests with me from home which is how I found out. I had been hoping I had just caught a cold after staying out with Jason for a whole night, wearing only a t-shirt at 15°C (I offered my sweater to him, go figure, I’m a gentleman). The positive Covid test kinda fucked with my plans.
The girl at the reception gave me the phone number of the hotline, and booked me into a private room for the night. The hotline turned out to be a complete bust. I tried a dozen times, and they hung up on me every single time. The website didn’t work either. Great. Instead I ended up binge-watching Russian Doll and Critical Role.
Quarantine:
As it was still not possible to reach any authorities, and the hostel’s private rooms were all fully booked, my mother helped me book a hotel room for self-quarantine. So expensive, and such a waste of time. Getting sick abroad sucks, quarantining abroad is a nightmare. It’s the first time I ever felt homesick.
It was horrible.
I was an emotional wreck, especially because Covid jump started my period ten days early, and my hormones were a mess. Laying around the whole day, watching shows, and eating cold-soak couscous and oranges doesn’t sound horrible, but my depression flooded back with a vengeance. Yeah, not a good time.
I am sorry to leave this long blog post on such a bad note. Lisbon is an amazing, beautiful city with great food, and nice people. I made friends that I’m still in contact with, and had some amazing days. It’s just the Covid of it all that sucked. Luckily, my symptoms were not too bad, and I recovered quickly. What an experience though; I wouldn’t want a repeat of that one.
Love and good health to you,
Mila