Day 564 - Lisbon, Portugal
Exploring Lisbon - Part 2
We would soon be departing Lisbon to make our way north to Porto. That meant that we needed to return to the Apollonia train station to buy our tickets, but first lunch at the Taberna da Baixa Restourante enthusiastically recommended by our hotel receptionist.
"That's where I eat for lunch," she said.
We trod through Rossio Square, saluted the monument to King José and walked on, soaking up the urban energy and the cool Atlantic breeze. Rossio, and all of Lisbon really, is famous for its beautiful cobbled stones which are hand made and constructed throughout the city. If you look at the stones' design you begin to feel they're three dimensional, almost moving. (See photos.) Masons have been creating and rebuilding these stones for hundred of years and the people who do are true craftsmen. There is even a statue that commemorates their talents, not to mention people who still do the work.
More and more Lisbon was becoming one of my favorite cities. It's energetic, with a kind of funkiness, an attitude that we hadn't seen in other parts of Europe. We loved the kindness of the people, and its rich history and architecture.
Beyond the Square and we passed a through slender archway and entered Rua Áurea (Golden Street). Among the retail shops, small mercado's and bakeries sat a stone archway hung with slick, black, rubber curtains, with big white letters that read: "Girls! Dancers! Peep show!" Within I could make out the strains of "I'm never going to love again."
It was odd. I might have expected it in some tawdry section of New York, but here it was hilariously and totally out of place with the rest of the street.
Once we found the restaurant, our receptionist had not disappointed us. The place was small, the way so many restaurants in Lisbon are. Inside several locals were sipping wine and chomping tapas looking vaguely surly. We ordered a platter of local specials from a young woman hardly larger than a salt shaker. In no time, we were looking at bite-size chunks of chicken, squid, beef and a side dish of bean salad, swimming in garlic, basil, onion, with thick cuts of brown bread and black olives. We added a platter of shrimp that was slopped in a low bowl of garlic and olive oil, parsley, lemon, vinegar, and a thin slice or two of chorizo, all in perfect combination, and washed it all down with cold still water and a deliciously light Vino Verde.
Next it was a hike up steps and streets over one of Portugal's seven hills where we unexpectedly passed the Church of St. Anthony, one of the most revered in all the Catholic Church. He was born in Lisbon and became a close friend of St. Francis himself, founder of the Franciscan Fathers, he who loved animals and the poor and was so devout he developed stigmata, injuries similar to those Christ would have experienced on the Cross. Anthony was born wealthy but gave it all up, still revered for his kindness and extraordinary oratory over 500 years after his passing.
