vacation: sintra, portugal
Charcutaria Brasil small but nice shop where we order linguica and some shiny salty ham and strange looking serpa cheese. Have our first real stand up breakfast with tasty pastries and fresh squeezed orange juice. Decided to order a “bottle” of Coca-cola and got laughed at because I think garrafa (bottle) only applies to a bottle of wine.
Off to Sintra for the day. Looks the same as it must have over a hundred years ago, narrow and small streets remind us of the small towns in Burgundy or Sam Gimignano. We park alongside a wall and begin to walk up to Palacio da Pena (aka the “candy castle”), through a botanical garden with giant roses, lilacs and cala lilies in bloom. It smells wonderful as we ascend the mossy rocks.
Soon we realize just how far away the palace really is. It takes us over an hour to get to the top. We watch as some crazy cyclists and giant buses ascend around us. The castle looks dirtier than it should, but still gorgeous. It’s a photo opportunity at every turn. The outside is far more entertaining than the inside, except for some crazy paintings of monkey barbers and cats. The hunger has kicked in and we still have a long way down.
We get a little lost before we find the car. We dive into our food bags… digging out chunks of cheese with a corkscrew. Dipping torn up bread pieces into a jar of Dijon mustard with amazing salty cured meat and fresh strawberries. Old people pass and watch us as we swig from our wine bottle happily. One of the most satisfying picnics of my life.
We spend a few minutes in town, but the junky tourists shops get old, and we get tired of the high school kids. Teenagers are annoying in every culture and language. We try out the queijada and franseico at Piriquita which is buttery and flaky good. Next up is the Castelo Mouros, which we had almost ruled out. But it is a good rest as we drive up the mountain.
The view is spectacular, but the wind is unforgiving. Every turn is a crazy landscape that cannot be captured on camera. More annoying teens blocking the good views on top. But the view is still worth it, like Tuscany but on the ocean. Terrifying as you crawl along the side of the hundreds of year old castle with tiny stairs, no guard rails and jagged rocks.
We decide to kill time along the coast, and happen upon Cabo da Roca. It’s freezing but as the sun begins to set, you cannot deny the beauty. Green hills covered in white and purple flowers, clean white lighthouse with a bright red roof, and crystal blue waters crashing along the cliffs in slow motion. The road weaves in and out of the cliffsides like Pacific Coast Highway 1, and the beaches at Guincho remind me of the peaceful sand dunes of northern Michigan.
We try in vain to find several restaurants I researched, but each leads us to a questionable residential neighborhood and into detours and alleyways. We finally decide to just eat at “bgbar” in Estoril, which looks far swankier on the outside than the menu costs (thankfully). Tom has a mango sauce covered chicken dish which reminds Alyssa of cat food. My fried squids covered in garlic and white wine are the best and most authentic of the dishes. We all return home exhausted for our last night in Lisboa.
Tomorrow: Obidos and Coimbra
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