Quarteira and Lisbon
Usha and I journeyed to Portugal largely to meet up with several San Francisco friends who had relocated to Europe but also to check out the similarities between Lisbon and San Francisco. We took a long-distance bus from Seville to Faro which dropped us in at a dingy bus depot. Lacking an obvious local bus we took a taxi to Quarteira, a beach town along the coast. Fortunately, the weather had cooled from Spain’s sweltering heat to a more manageable 90°F! We had some confusion about how to check into our Airbnb since our friend Priya had booked it but after a small struggle, our host wearing a fashionable hat appeared and let us into his place. He gave us several tips before his more headstrong wife came by and repeated much of it, curious since it was his family’s house.

Usha and I set out for his recommended Indian restaurant, Natraj indian tandoori, about a mile away. The beach approach revealed only a few high-rise hotels and a long stretch of artificial light for the nightlife. I had some initial qualms about the restaurant given the limited dining inside but outside sat a lively crowd, including a few Indians and a ridiculously handsome white man in his late-50s. Food tasted great, was plentiful, and cheap, something I found throughout Portugal. This was also one of the few spicy meals I had during my entire trip and I was thankful to bring home leftovers. The server gave us free port for dessert which was nice but curtailed our evening. We wandered around the marina and Vilamoura Beach gawking at the drunken tourists but opted for an early evening to prepare for the beach tomorrow.

On the advice of the man with the fashionable hat, we headed for one of the eastmost beaches, beyond the roadway and away from most of the tourists. I enjoyed the cold ocean and paddled around while Usha debated whether it was either safe or warm enough for her tastes. The water was calm and we floated on our backs for some time with few others disturbing us. After an hour and tiring of treading water, I returned to set up our too-small umbrella and immediately fell asleep. Unfortunately, the umbrella could not cover my whole body and I woke up with a sunburn on one of my legs. I self-medicated with a donut-shaped object a vendor sold me but lacking beer we looked for a real restaurant. We downed beers and ate a crappy salad, common in Europe, and debated the merits of men with pregnant-looking bellies. With gathering heat and concern for my sunburn we returned home, stopping off at a local grocery. I had some amazement at the high price of sunscreen and low prices of eggs and wine.

We waited for Priya to show up while I aggressively worked through our wine. The man with the fashionable hat reappeared, dropping off Priya from the airport. She convinced the host to chauffeur her since his place had no reviews and wanted an initial positive one. The three of us took off for Restaurant La Cabane, a seafood restaurant which was wasted on the two vegetarians. Overall it was a good experience, in part because of the delicious dessert but also the oddly-accented fish monger. This was a dedicated role which involved a platter of recommended daily catches and the man explained that he originated from Angola, a former colony, but learned English from British television. We headed out towards the slightly-dead Quarteira and, lacking a better option on a Monday, treated ourselves to Guinness and played Uno at O’Shea’s Irish Pub. This game is more competitive than I remember, with multiple skips and draw fours, but stood in for entertainment until the live band showed up. We lucked into some front row seats and enjoyed the covers, especially the lead vocalist who the drummer kept teasing with his drumsticks.

Tuesday we planned to spend the entire day at the beach so I made a four egg breakfast to fill me up. European eggs have large, orange yolks, are not refrigerated, and are cooked in oil instead of butter, not to my taste. We walked to the marina and took the world’s shortest boat ride, perhaps 5 seconds asea followed by 25 seconds to moor, for €3. We walked along the beach until we found some empty thatch huts near the front, another €11 for the day. More treading and floating and generally enjoying ourselves and I spent a lot of time catching up on old New Yorkers. We broke for lunch at the nearby Thai Beach Club, a serviceable restaurant that I returned to several times for beer. Usha suggested that I should wear a shirt inside but this ugly American obeys no mores.

I went out again in the afternoon during high tide and the waves were strong enough for me to bodysurf! Without a board or flippers, I could only ride for a few seconds although I enjoyed the challenge. After around twenty attempts a big wave smashed my shoulder and hip into the beach and I decided to call it a day. We walked west hoping to catch the sunset but instead found some beautiful red cliffs along Falesia Beach. We were hungry and far from civilization but we found a small diner which had a few vegetarian dishes, including pizza. We had a much better time than planned and enjoyed some vinho verde, one of the few green wines. Our waiter fed our uneaten pizza to some stray cats and we watched them struggle as evolution has not granted them the ability to chew bread. It was already late so we headed back towards town and decided to skip the late night based on the previous night’s slowness.


Wednesday we planned to move on to Lisbon and had a surprisingly Californian meal for lunch, veggie burger with fresh greens, at Street Kitchen. The man with a fashionable hat gave us a lift to the small Louie train station where we waited in the attached coffee shop for the train. Language was definitely a barrier but we scored three coffees and watched telenovellas with the barrista. After a three-hour uneventful train ride, we found ourselves in Estação do Oriente, one of the more attractive train stations I have seen, with its large glass canopy. We made the mistake of taking a taxi during rush hour and saw a confusing two-ring roundabout called Praça Marquês de Pombal which was made with nightmares. Finally, we checked into our Airbnb along the iconic Rua da Bica which has a funicular, my favorite whimsical mode of travel.

We met up with Shawn and Avi, former neighbors of Usha, for dinner at The Decadente, a combination hotel and restaurant. They even had a sign which read, “ir com os porcos”, or, “go off with the pigs”, a phrase used when someone dies. Shaw and Avi relocated to Lisbon for the summer due to Shawn’s university schedule and it was great to see familiar faces! We caught up on the few weeks when we had not seen each other and three of us enjoyed most of the vegetarian selections. We wandered the streets for a while and Usha stepped in something unfortunate, another similarity to San Francisco. We ended up at Panóplias for jazz, a small club with an even smaller bar. When returning home we found that Rua da Bica turns into an outdoor party, something that intensified as the weekend approached.


We began the next day searching for pastel de nata, or egg tarts, and vendors seemed to be on every corner. The history interested me; egg whites were used as starch for clothes which created an oversupply of yolks that bakers created a use for. I can only hope they use organic eggs in their OVO-TECH machines. We waited around for the 28 tram, a similar tourist trap to San Francisco’s cable cars. We piled into an overstuffed car which seemed like a normal boring activity until tragedy struck! An old man lost his wallet including €450 and his companion demanded the driver stop the bus and call the police. The tourists had a good laugh as we uncomfortably checked our own wallets and, much to my surprise, a police car actually showed up. In the interval, the man’s wallet and later his money magically reappeared next to him on the floor. The police came on and interrogated a woman wearing sunglasses who was hauled off. I strongly suspect some kind of racial profiling as she looked like a gypsy.


After the excitement, we attempted to see Feira da Ladra, the flea market, although it was closed. We moped around for a bit then regrouped at a nearby cafe before trundling forward to Castelo de São Jorge. The castle was a bit dull, with the requisite ramparts and recovered middens, but also had great views of the cityscape and exhibited a giant flower cube. We had a hot tip on a pet pig near our neighborhood so we hurried back but got nothing but puzzled looks and grief from the three salons we visited.


After returning to civilization we met up with Shawn and Avi at Miradouro de Santa Catarina and killed a bottle of wine while listening to street performers. We continued onward to Mascote Da Atalaia to listen to fado, an interesting flamenco-like music without the dance component. We stopped for a drink at Gin Lovers & LESS, hosted in a beautiful hotel unfortunately marred by some failing IKEA furniture. Our final destination was Restaurante Flor Da Laranja, a one-woman restaurant who had thrice denied Avi reservations before relenting this evening. We were amazed by the quality, variety, and hospitality, and later the owner sat with us to chat and help us finish our uneaten portions. She shared some of her life story and recent notoriety and explained some quirks like the potted plants guarding the door against interlopers. This was my favorite meal of the trip and I recommend persistence in getting a table!



Friday we had the ambition to venture to Pena Palace, the former home of Ferdinand II. We set out on an intercity train to Sintra and an unnecessary and crowded bus up the hill. The colorful architecture of Pena Palace has German influence and feels more like Disney than reality. Four of us crowded into a single archer’s tower which was worth the laugh. We took a tour of the inside, including the bed chambers and sitting rooms of the royal family, and spotted an unflattering portrait of the queen. Small sections were under restoration with ludicrously low €50.000,00 estimates and we had spirited debate about the meaning of European currency periods and commas. The grounds were more amazing, with plenty of greenery, pools, and even a duck palace. Afterward, we struggled to find a restaurant in the tourist trap town nearby, settling on one of the few open places and drinking sangria that tasted like Kool-Aid.


Tired from the day, we split up and Usha, Priya, and I made another failed attempt to find the pig before port tasting at L’Atelier Porto. I learned about the existence of white port which I also learned that I dislike but otherwise enjoyed working through the ruby and tawny, picking up a cheap bottle. We rested at home and sobered up before going out for dinner at Simplesmente Pizza Bar, a curious experience involving toothpicks. Avi shared his deep appreciation for Lisbon and I wonder if he will return to San Francisco? We returned to our respective rentals and discovered a gigantic street party outside! I was surprised such narrow streets could accommodate so many people and the DJ’s cacophony provoked us to wear ear plugs to sleep through the night.


Saturday I decided to split from the group and tick off some personal todos since it was our last day. I started with a 10-mile run along the Tagus river, seeing an imposter Golden Gate Bridge, a kung fu fighter, Belém Tower, and Padrão dos Descobrimentos. The latter impressed me with its combination of antiquity and modernity and I like that the city celebrates an abstract concept like discovery. The heat kept away any other runners and I struggled to stay in the shadows as I cursed the uneven stone walkways.


Returning home, I met up with the girls and we treated ourselves to an Indian lunch at Bengal Tandoori. The restaurant had some complicated restrictions on the lunch menu and seemed surprised that we would spend a few dollars around to get the dishes we actually wanted. We made a third and final attempt to meet the pet pig outside Illusion Beauty Club and had success! He was still a piglet at four months but was friendly and jumped into my lap while wagging his tail. The pig must have misunderstood my intentions because he started humping my leg and a strange, corkscrew shape emerged from his small frame. Weirdness aside, Usha also enjoyed meeting the pig although our experiences about adopting one differ radically based on this encounter.


I split off again to visit Museu do Aljube, a former political prison. Unfortunately, I lack sufficient Portuguese background to understand how the historical backdrop and the incomplete translations made this task even harder. One room attempts to tie the rise of Salazar into World War II but I could not follow the story. Some of the general information on detention, including the particulars of housing prisoners in 3 by 6 foot-rooms reminiscent of my stay at the Bowery House in SoHo, was informative, but others, like specific torture techniques, were gruesome. The museum closed earlier than I expected so I stopped off at a coffee shop to rest my feet.

I met up with Shawn, Avi, Usha, and Priya at Tapa Bucho where we had previously failed to score a table. They quoted us a two-hour wait, another San Francisco similarity, and we agreed, decamping to a nearby bar to wait. We stopped at Bar Janela d’Atalaia, a complete hipster experience with a bartender with excellent facial hair. Fortunately, they had some dark beer, something I had seen little of since Ireland, and the barkeep gave us some background on nearby brewpubs and expressed great interest in San Francisco. Finally, we returned to Tapa Bucho for an excellent meal including a few egg variations and the curiously named vegetable fish, actually tempura green beans. Midway through our dinner, we heard a commotion outside and I found a parade going down the street. Exhausted from the day’s run and preparing for an early flight the next day, Usha and I retired for the evening. There was another party going on outside our window when we went to sleep and some dregs continuing it when we awoke, impressing me!


Lisbon surprised me by how much fun Usha and I had — Priya was a good companion and Shawn and Avi were great hosts despite only arriving a week earlier! I enjoyed all the San Francisco coincidences: a Golden Gate Bridge, hilly terrain, touristy trams, moderate climate, great graffiti, and hipster bars. Food and especially wine was cheap and plentiful and a large majority of people spoke English, partially due to the many British tourists. Avi suggested that Lisbon had a growing startup scene, a claim I doubt based on my experiences in Austin. Unfortunately, I could not connect with the history and I did not have opportunities to talk to many locals, two of my usual travel goals. Still, Lisbon was one of the high points of my month-long trip and a great end to my vacation!

