After a wonderful few days, it was time to say “Adeus Lisboa, obrigado” and head back to the airport. Having whizzed through security, we made an error when approaching passport control. The line for EU citizens was, of course, very short, the line for electronic passports ( which could be used by UK, EU, US & (I think) Canadian citizens) was quite long, but the line for “All passports” was non-existent. So we chose that one. Mistake! It simply led you down a corridor into another, very full, hall of people waiting to have their passport checked.
To be fair, the queue moved quickly and after forty minutes we were through, with plenty of time before our uneventful flight home.
I loved Lisbon – pretty, full of character, but completely unpretentious. Other than a day of rain, the weather was warm and pleasant (although a few days later it was hit by torrential rain – we were lucky!), on the whole a cheaper European city, I’d happily return (although I suspect Porto will be next on our Portuguese agenda)
Today we went to Lisbon’s seaside resort of Cascais, another 40 minute (5 euro return) train ride away, and the sun shone gloriously all day long.
Cascais is a very pretty seaside town, with several sandy beaches to explore. Being on the Atlantic coast, the sea is tidal, giving a different vibe from the meditation coast line we normally explore. Being buy the sea on a clear, warm sunny day, looking out to the infinity of the horizon does it for me every time. Although calm and still on the day we visited, there was a ruggedness to the coastline as we walked as far as Boca do Inferno – Hell’s Mouth – where sat and chilled overlooking the swirling sea, and swarms of fish – big fish – swimming at the surface. Whilst I am glad the weather was as wonderful as it was, I suspect it would also be quite dramatic to be at the same spot when the wind is howling and the sea surging.
Closer to town, the blue and white lighthouse created an iconic landmark
and with all this water and pretty beaches …
my resistance was broken and, despite having no trunks, and a towel the size of a postage stamp, I was inevitably drawn into the water myself. It wasn’t as cold as I had feared and, to me at least, better than luxuriating in any bath. The perfect end to a perfect day.
The weather forecast for the day was not good, and, sadly, it lived up to its predications. We decided that, despite the weather, we would go to Sintra for the day – about 50 mins from Lisbon on the train – a tourist “must see” when you spend time in Lisbon.
Lisbon’s public transport network is extensive, cheap, and easy to use. We took a 10 minute metro ride to the Rossio district, where we boarded a train to take us to Sintra, I always like travelling by train, these were on time, clean and effective, and we were afforded glances of the fairy tale Pena Palace sat high on the hill overlooking the town as we approached.
On disembarking from the train, we first encountered a sea of guides offering to whisk us up to the palace and castle, but we ignored them as, in true hap-pea traveller style, we were going to take the bus. But before we had even left the station, the clouds descended, totally enveloping the castle on the cliff, and then the heavens opened.
We decided instead – umbrellas raised – to walk into the historic centre.
Along the way (a flat, level pavement) we encountered a number of sculptures to pique our interest.
If I’m honest, Sintra was a bit of a disappointment. Rammed with tourists (mea culpa – we were part of the problem too), and not much to it, although pretty enough, really just a disneyfied tourist trap, not somewhere I would rave about, or recommend. Now, I may have had a different opinion had it been a glorious day, and we’d gone up to see the palace with a back drop of blue sky, but I suspect the magic would have been dissipated by the volume of tourists. One of the things I have loved about Lisbon has been its authenticity – its not pristine and perfect, a little grubby in places, and faded around the edges but that gives it its real world charm, it is a working city, whereas I think Sintra now exists solely for the tourist.
But a slightly disappointing day was hugely improved by a magnificent meal back in town, at an authentic Italian restaurant round the corner from our apartment. The setting was lovely (thinking – hoping- that the rain had passed, we elected to eat outside, a good choice) the food fantastic, and a melody of ’80s hits a welcome relief from the dirge like Fado music that had accompanied our dining experience on the previous two evenings. And great value too, we had pistachio nuts and bread to start, Becky enjoyed a pizza, I demolished a delicious pasta bolognaise, we share a tiramisu, had two beers and two coffees all for less than 50 euros.
Revolution, the New World, and more tales from the riverbank
To my shame, my knowledge of Portuguese history is very limited, but I will endeavour to put that right over the coming months. But I have learnt that in April 25th, 1974, Portugal had a largely bloodless coup, now known as the Carnation Revolution in which they over threw their ruling party – Estado Novo.
Today, we bought 7 euro travel cards, giving us 24 hour transport on tram, tube and bus, and we explored the city to the west, first riding the iconic 28 Tram line, before visiting the LX Factory and then the Belem region.
From the Torres de Belem, it was easy to imagine explorers sailing west to discover the new world. I enjoyed ambling along the riverside, in the warm sunshine, taking in the sights
It was a day when the modern world collided with the old world. The bridge was spectacular, as was the MATT building, a day of doing nothing, but also everything. I enjoyed ambling without purpose (possibly helped by the being on the flat, rather than in the hills of Lisbon!)
A mere minute from our apartment, we found a small, but wonderful, bakery, that would become our first stop each day for a delicious breakfast of cakes, toast, coffee and orange juice, all for less than a total of ten euros (that’s a total of ten euros, not ten euros each)
Suitably fortifided, we headed off to discover the streets of Lisbon, with no more of a plan than to head towards the Basilica de Estrella, because we knew we could climb onto its roof. So we began to walk, and we walked and walked and walked!
We saw red doors, and red aliens,
brand new murals, and brutalist architecture,
as well as more traditional Portuguese streets. We went uphill seemingly endlessly, before finally arriving at our destination. However, after all those steps and hills, we took a quick break, and I had my first Pastel de Nata of the trip. Delicious!
We then went into the Basilica and ascended the 149 steps to the roof, to take in a sweeping vista of where we had walked from.
We then walked some more, finding more street art, and view points
but we needed somewhere to have lunch, and stumbled across this little gem:
The food was fantastic, and cheap, Becky eating “Grandma’s chicken” whilst I enjoyed a chick pea curry. Salud!
Later in the day, we went out to eat in the evening – having traipsed so much of the city in the daytime, we didn’t want to go far, so picked a local grill, on a street near our apartment. The food was fine, a very rustic feel as we sat outside on benches near the bbq grill, and we were “entertained” by some Fado singers. I will be honest – not my favourite music, very earnest and worthy I’m sure, but just a wailing melancholic woman singing in a language I didn’t understand – perhaps if I’d done the three months study instead of thirty minutes on the plane it would have meant more to me, but I don’t think any Fado tracks will be making it onto my Spotify playlists.
Today we flew to Lisbon, Portugal, for a few days away, hoping for a little October sun, and European culture, and looking forward to leaving behind an increasingly cold, grey and damp UK. We flew out at the sensible time of 1.40pm, so Bristol airport was less busy, and I was less tired!
We boarded the jet and awaited our departure. Ever the rule taker, I listened to all the pre-flight announcements and heard the chief steward ask if any EasyJet plus members could make themselves known, so I did, by pressing and pinging the overhead attention button. I’m glad I did – we were “upgraded” to the empty front row, enjoying extra leg room and a spare seat.
The comfort and space gave me an opportunity to try and cram some Portuguese – I think I managed 3 weeks in our two hour flight, rather than the necessary three months the book required, but it did give me a couple of words to use on our trip.
On landing, we were a little worried about the potential for delay – Lisbon airport has a bit of a reputation for queues, but being at the front of the jet meant we were first off the plane, and no waiting at passport control – within 20 minutes of the wheels greasing the tarmac we were heading for the Metro for a 30 min tube ride to our home for the next few days.
The metro was clean, functional, cheap (circa £1.65 for a tap on tap off fare) with one change to make.
Emerging at the cruise ship port, we then had a 10-15 minute walk to our apartment – it was hot and humid and we were humping our bags up and down cobbled streets, but we soon found our flat and flopped in. After a shower and change of clothing, we headed out into the gathering dusk, to begin to explore.
We soon saw our first tram – icon symbols of Lisbon, and then spotted our first Bodello 2 piece of street art,
and many, many tiled houses:
before heading home (having eaten) through the quaint cobbled streets of Lisboa.
We woke today to blue skies, but our few days on the island has taught us that the weather can be fickle, and the weather “now” can be different from the weather an hour later. But today the sun stayed out all day and we enjoyed a warm day, stripping to T-shirts when sat in the sun.
After a leisurely start, and more of “God’s bread” for breakfast, we caught the bus up to the Botanical gardens (different from Monte Palace we visited on Tuesday) – 10 minutes and 1.95 euros each on a yellow bus (numbers 29, 30, 31 & 31A all take you there) and then enjoyed a pleasant couple of hours enjoying the grounds, the view, and a drink in the sunshine in the cafe.
We headed back down the hill (again by bus, after yesterday’s hike, we were in no rush for any more downhill walks), had lunch and headed to the waterfront. The temperature was probably in the low twenties, the sun strong and warm and seeing one or two others in the sea, I knew I had to take a dip too. The water was not too cold – I’d say it was warmer than the med off Nerja in October? – and it was a definite delight to take a dip in December. The beach was nothing special – big grey/black pebbles and rocks that were a little difficult to walk on – but it shelved swiftly and one was soon in deepish water.
After warming on the rocks for a while after my dip, we headed further up the beach to “yellow building” that we had seen in many pictures of Funchal. It was an early fort built to defend the port and it made an interesting diversion for twenty minutes to explore it.
Then home for a quick recharge, before back out after dark to eat and a last look at the Christamas lights and market. The Christmas market – busy all week – was heaving, it being Friday night the locals were out in force and we found ourselves watching a local band playing songs – most of which we didn’t know – and having a wonderful, festive fun time in Funchal.
Today we headed into the hills mountains, booking a trip to Pico de Aieiro and beyond. The day had dawned with blue skies over Funchal and we were confident of a good day’s hiking as our transport collected us shortly befor 9am to take us to Pico de Aieiro , 1,800m above sea -level (that’s 300m higher than Ben Nevis) but as the mini-bus climbed ever higher, the cloud began to envelope us, and a light rain began to fall. As we de-bussed and donned our snoods, gloves and rain jackets (at 5 degress, it was cold as well as damp) Becky was not a happy Hector, wondering why we were choosing to walk in the rain.
The original plan was to hike along PR1 from Pico de Aieiro to Pico Ruivo but due to forest fires earlier in the year, much of that route is closed. However, you could do the first 1.2km as an “out and back” route, taking in the iconic “Stairway to heaven” – photos of which are awash online, of towering peaks knifing through the cloud base and reaching into an azure blue sky, or shots of green clad cliff-sides plunging deep into the valley below. But I must have lived the life of a sinner. As I climbed the stairway to heaven, no brilliant light and awe-inspiring majestic views for me, only swirling grey clouds obscuring all that lay in front, above, below or behind, heaven was not welcoming me today! We turned round, and headed back from whence we came, and as we did so the clouds began to part, the sun began to shine in all its splendour; those that had taken the path later than me must have led more righteous lives as heaven revealed itself to them.
With most of PR1 closed, our guide has arranged for us to follow PR3 down from the hill, a 7km hike across varied terrain and views. The weather continued to change throughout the day, at times we needed to strip off our layers and walk bathed in sunshine, at other times the puffa jackets were worn.
From this point, most of the hike was downhill, but that doesn’t mean it was easy – both underfoot and on the knees. For the final two or three kms, the trail tracked alongside a river canyon, the sound of rushing water providing a dramatic soundtrack to our descent and the pools, swirls and waterfalls added (even more) visual interest. At then end of the trail, five hours after he had dropped us off, our guide picked us up in the minibus for the thirty minute transit back to Funchal. It was a fun, but tough, day, a proper hike that demanded more than typical tourist attire or fitness, and it felt an accomplishment to have achieved what we did.
Back in town, we went straight to a local cafe to order some coffee and cakes. Portuguese/Madieran pastries are as good as any I have had elsewhere. The only decisions we had to make was what cakes to choose, and whether to eat inside or outside. On both counts we made the right decision.
Shortly after tucking in to these tasty treats, the heavens opened. A good job we had chosen to eat indoors. We ordered another coffee and watched the world outside try and shelter the best they could from a sudden sub-tropical downpour. A dramatic end to a dramatic day!
Today we enjoyed a “chilled” day out at the seaside. We took the bus to the nearby fishing village of Camara de Lobos, a few miles west of Funchal. We took the Number 1 yellow bus from Funchal, riding it for about 20 minutes, ’till the end of its journey, hopped off and then walked ten minutes along the coast road in to the town. Madeira/Funchal is served well by public transport, but it can be a little confusing and not helped by not having a bus station, just lots and lots of bus stops. The yellow busses are the urban busses that serve Funchal and its suburbs, then there are white busses that go further afield. One of the difficulties I have found is determining which of the many bus stops any particular bus goes from.
Anyway, we arrived at our destination by bus and foot and enjoyed a pleasant few hours ambling its streets, staring out to sea, taking in some street art, and enjoying a pleasant harbour-side lunch.
The boats were colouful and pretty, the sea almost inviting. I hadn’t taken my trunks, but gazing down into the deep clear grey blue water I could hear it calling me. Other than a few canoeists splashing in the shallows at the end of their trip, no one was swimming – although the sun did shine for some of today and the air temperature was pleasant, it probably isn’t swimming season, so I don’t think I missed out.
The town is name, Lobos, is Portuguese for wolves as when it was first spotted from the sea, its founder thought he could see wolves. He was mistaken, they were sea-lions not wolves and sadly, today the only sea lion you will see is this magnificent mural made from junk.
And it wasn’t the only street art we saw. In keeping with Funchal many doors and and walls are decorated with art like the one above, or the bird below, one of three made up from a collage of bits of drink can.
But, I think, my favourite was a series of three doors filled in with old plastic containers – with extra holes for eyes – that looked like faces. To me, they resembled friendly cybermen.
And even the simple walls, with a plant placed in front, added to the ambience of this pretty little town. It was a day to do little, but take in the sights, the sound of the sea, and the warmth of the winter sun on skin.
Before we headed out for day, we found another delicacy, enjoying “God’s bread” for breakfast – it was like a giant coconut macaroon. Delicious!
Sleighs, cable cars and flamingos (plus a mugging in broad daylight)
This morning we took the cable car from the sea front to up the hill (mountain) that is the backdrop to Funchal to Monte. The ride was calm and scenic, taking about ten minutes to ascend the 550 metres to the top (cost: 12.50 euros each, one way, or 18 euros each for a return. We bought one way tickets – for why, read on …)
Arriving at the top, we had a coffee in the sun overlooking Funchal and the sea beneath us, before heading into Monte Palace and its gardens (15 euros each) We were originally going to take another cable car (9 euro each return) and then go into the Botanical gardens (10 euros each) but changed our minds, and I’m glad we did. The 70,000 square metre tropical gardens were lush and well looked after, featuring ferns, azaleas, orchids, banana trees (with bananas dangling from the branches – I eat a banana everyday, but have never seen them growing before), with glimpses of Funchal town below through the foliage.
But there was more to it than trees and plants. Pink flamingos mesmerised me as they stood on one leg, occasionally stretching the other behind them as if in some avian yoga class.
Sculptures and artwork were dotted throughout, and there was a more formal contemporary art exhibition housed in a building. My favourite piece was a 4 metre tall piece of art made from red plastic cutlery. But there were plenty of other pieces to inspire thought and comment.
We lost ourselves – metaphorically, not literally – in the Monte Palace gardens and it brought to mind one of my favourite poems:
A poor life this if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare
Leisure – by William Henry Davies
and I did let time and space wash over me as I stood (and sometimes sat) and stared.
And, as the saying famously says, what goes up, must come down and we too, had to descend back into town. We could have taken the cable car back down the hill but this being Christmas (v tenuous link!) and this being Madeira we took a sleigh ride back down. I believe in “the olden days” these sleighs were used to transport goods and produce down into the port, nowadays they take tourists for a whizz down the slope. It was fun, the ride was about 10 minutes and although Becky thought at one point we’d end up in the gutter, and we did pass perilously close to some parked cars, it never felt unsafe.
At the end of the ride, we still had a way to go to get back into town – persistent taxi drivers badgered you to take a cab for 20 euros, but we elected to walk (it was all downhill) in the increasingly warm sunshine.
So what about the mugging? This morning, on our way to the cable car station, we stumbled across an indoor market, Mercardo dos Lavradores
Inside the fruit and veg was colourfully displayed, tempting for the tourist and local alike. Becky made the fatal mistake of engaging in conversation with a vendor of dried fruit. Resisting their offer of a sample of dried mango, she weakened when offered a macadamia nut to try. Less the two minutes later, we were buying two bags of nuts for the princely sum of 31 euros! I couldn’t help but feel we had been robbed, and in broad daylight, too. (And to add insult to injury – the nuts are so expensive, I’m not allowed to eat them! (I’ve been told I can have two a day when we get home!))
But its been such an enjoyable day, even nut-gate can be forgiven, and remembered as an amusing anecdote.
