These Shoes are Made for Walking

I wasn't going to write about Lisboa (Lisbon) but our three day and two night excursion may have some interest.

I'll start where I ended with the last post, a dizzying bus ride. The terrain in Portugal is rather hilly.  This leads to several things in their culture I'm sure, but for the interest of this story, primarily steep winding roads. As it turns out (pun intended), if in addition to the crazy-straw streets you have a bus driver that believes the only way to stop and start are fundamentally the same action of stomping on the pedal as hard as you can to activate either process, you may find even iron stomachs rust a bit. So until we reached the highway, a distance only measured by pepto-bismol sales, we suffered from bobbing, weaving and swaying bodies while the bus driver presumably was trying to murder the soles of his feet.

Who would eat 30 kids lunches? (Gifrific.com)

At last, we found ourselves in the Lisbon bus terminal, sans vomit. We took a deep breathe of diesel exhaust-filled air and began to put the city under foot. A brisk 9 km walk with our measley 50lbs+ bags on our backs. Why walk, particularly in a city you don't know? Partially because it is nice to see the city and to get some bearings on location, is the political response. Mostly we walk because it is free, though it typically leads to sock laundry. A 15 euro cab fare could pay for a night or two in a hostel.  So when we can, we hoof-it.

The trot lead us to our first ever hostel. To clarify, mostly for we Americans, hostels are not places you get hacked into bits for the pleasure of some fat-cat wielding a meat clever.  They are instead (typically) lodging with dorms and private rooms. That being said, standing in a seemingly seedy ally with a peep-show attached to the same building, our first impression was this would be the place in which that murderous aristocrat may be. The interior, in stark contrast, was a modern, pop art themed lodge with great lighting, and seemingly not seedy. We were, and still are, happy with our first ever hostel (Downtown Design Hostel) and it made a very adequate home base for our wanderings. Though on this occasion we opted for the private room (10 euro a night per person) our next stay in a hostel will be in a dorm and probably slightly less comfortable.

We didn't waste a moment.  As quickly as we could unload and leave a couple dents in the floor from our now not so measly 50lbs+ bags, we left. The first thing we noticed, in comparison to the walk there, the Portuguese seemed to be in lower numbers.  Every other European nation was well represented, particularly Sweden (for a European football match, they lost). We were in Rossio Square (roughly) which apparently is where tourism is the new oxygen. The restaurants all sold the same food and were all more "authentic" than the other and made sure you knew it. Their carnie-hosts try to wrangle the confused and slightly hungry into a platter full of "traditional" food. Also, if you want hash I now have a guy.  He's on literally every street corner.  Don't worry if hashish isn't your thing.  He will have an arsenal of other drugs as well, and it's all "good quality" and always at a "good price." Touristic hell seems to just be the price you pay to see some wonderful places, and in this case it was worth it.

The second day was similar, weaving through crowds and pointing at things. The main difference was we saw more attractions, since this time around was well within the general operating hours of the area. We got to see a couple 'free' museums, and we got kicked out of a couple 'not quite as free' museums.  We stormed a castle, but only to the gate since they wanted money we weren't willing to part with.  No worries though, we will be working in one in France. I could continue to describe who, what, and where but pictures may lend themselves better than words here.

View From the area immediately across form the castle.

A trolley

Camp Sweden

In addition, something I enjoy quite a bit is 'Street Art' (graffiti, etc.) and throughout our travels I intend to photograph and collect different countries' contributions to this genre. Lisboa has some beautiful pieces and I was able to capture a few (not particularly well). There were a lot more that I didn't have the opportunity to turn into pixels but at least I was able to see them.

Lastly, our final morning in Lisboa was spent stuffing our gullets full of the hostel's complimentary breakfast, packing and more walking. Once again to avoid paying for any transportation we walked another 8-10 km to the airport, this time carrying the stress of air-travel as well as our backpacks. With great enthusiasm (upon our arrival) we made it to the airport with 30-45 minutes to spare. There is definitely a strong sense of satisfaction with tasks like this. Just the walk to the airport was difficult physically with the bags, very stressful because of time limit (if we don't make it there is no plan b), and navigating a city that you've never traveled through can be quite hard.  We are trying to deal with all this as a pair without hating each other when things go awry. So when you do complete these tasks there's a "you earned it" feeling that comes with.

Next post, Espania.

- T. Cullen Morris

A Belated Goodbye, Hello and a Timely Adeus

A belated goodbye to Baleal. Thanks for the friends, I'll keep the memories, and you can keep the mosquitoes.

One of the last evenings in Baleal (Photo taken by Laurie White)

In addition, a belated hello to Pinhoa (still Portugal), and a timely goodbye as well.

We arrived at our new location 10 days ago. Our host, Oriana, met us at the bus station in Lourinha to give us a ride. We said our hellos and ventured towards the automobile. When we found ourselves with the vehicle afoot two things became fairly clear. Firstly, it's a small two seat pickup truck with a covered cab. Secondly, one of us, me or me, would enjoy a tailbone bouncing ride in the back. We piled in and traveled a distance equal to or greater than one mildy sore sacrum to her house in Pinhoa. Upon arrival she showed us our accommodation, a personal cabin (amazing).

Our home for 10 days

We then went into the main house and met her friend, Jan, who stayed with Oriana for the duration of our visit. A few things about Oriana and Jan. Oriana is an engineer retired from work but not from engineering. Her very customized Honda Hawk attests to that. In addition, she's a bonafide leather worker and has created a very intricate saddle among hundreds of other things. As for Jan, she has three floppy Springer Spaniels (Margrat, Colin and Esmarelda), a contraption that miraculously rolls cigarettes and she cooks absolutely delicious meals. Both Jan and Oriana have 2 horses (they probably have names too) currently on the property. The property extends 10+ acres (by eye) most of which is sectioned off for the horses to romp around, and some of which is sectioned  for people and dogs to romp around, all of which is beautiful Portugese countryside. Hope you like horse photos.

The immediate view from our cabin.

A horse doing horse stuff, presumably.

The same horse plus another horse.

In order of closest to furthest: Colin, Magrat, Esmarelda.

What we were doing there, other than eating great food and having wonderful conversation.

-Hedge trimming
-Ditch digging
-Poop flinging, and poop distribution (fecal compost of the horse vareity)
-Fence repair
-General wood chipper maintanence/use
-Tree planting
-Weed wacking
-Moving gravel, bricks and cement blocks
-Dog wrestling
-Other stuff

There were several things I learned while working there. Namely, you'll catch more flies with horses than honey or vinegar, and nothing makes you stand up straighter and throw a shovel faster than parking your pelvis pads firmly on an electric fence.

We did get to venture out a bit. After a few days of callous-building labor we were given the weekend off. The first day was a sleepy recovery from the work, and the second day another bicycle adventure (since it went so well the last time). With an understandable amount of skepticism We decided to cycle to some caves only 10-12 kilometers away (google can covert for you). A thorough inspection of the two pedal-steeds formed a census that they will definitely possibly work, and they did-ish.

Our lunch (Thanks Jan)

Heather on a rock

Cave kung-fu

That in a very tight nutshell was our experience there. We really enjoyed our stay there, the company and food were superb. I would like to elaborate more on the relationship we've formed with these two ladies but instead I won't.

Now to put you ahead of the curve on information since I'm habitually behind the curve on giving the information. Today was our last day in Pinhoa and now we're on a bus to Lisbon, the nation's capital. We'll spend a couple of days there in a hostel, but then it's time to hit bricks. Next stop Spain, where we'll become olive picking masters. We'll be staying with a couple that I believe have a self-sustaining home and a perma-culture garden.

I could add more but the current nausea inducing bus ride is a bit stifling.

T. Cullen Morris

20 km to Óbidos

I would like to preface this post a bit and express that this was probably my favorite day in Portugal thus far.

Heather, ever the researcher, found several destinations that we should make an effort to see in Portugal and more specifically, for now, places near Baleal. Some of which (or most of) would take resources beyond our now increasingly humble economic status. Nevertheless we/she discovered a location that wouldn't take anymore than sweaty backs, bicycles and a can-do spirit to get there, Pousada do Castelo-Óbidos. So with great optimism we decided this adventure would be the best way to spend our day off work. We went to sleep a bit early the night before to ensure energy for the 20 odd kilometer cycle. We wake up and it's raining, a lot.

(http://www.reactiongifs.com)

The next week, with pessimism, we repeat the cycle and this time the weather was perfect. So we threw some vitals in our day pack and grabbed a couple, for lack of a better term, bicycles.

We hit the road with a cool breeze in our hair, Portuguese directions and less than charming pants that conveniently transform from trousers to shorts by the tug of a zipper. Shortly into our escapade we realize the directions, Heather painstakingly wrote down, not only looked like gibberish but would only be applicable to clearly marked streets. Since I don't read gibberish (I only speak it) and we didn't have the latter we where left with an over arcing concept of "go east, we'll probably end up somewhere," and that we did, eventually.

I used Google maps to recreate our course.

We only got off course twice. "B" happened because we followed a sign up a very steep hill, and "C" happened intentionally, out of curiosity. Neither of which are regrettable considering we still saw some neat things, but only have the one picture.

Heather

Next stop, a grocery store to replenish a bit.  A bit being a banana for each of us and some bread. I previously mentioned our economic standing but to be more precise we have budgeted (U.S.)$3.00 per day as a couple. That itself will be an in depth blog but that topic will have to wait because we have dreams of Óbidos.

With a few more rotations of the petals we found ourselves on the outside of a castle/walled in town.

A few pictures can't do it justice but they'll have to do.

With our castle conquered and the sun beginning to sink we hopped back onto our bicycles and began the journey back. That could be the end of the story but I assure you it isn't. I'll refer to Google once again for assistance to illustrate our course on the return trip.

Looks pretty standard, a nice straight-ish shot but what is that "B" doing there? That "B" represents not only a place but an event.

This event.

Our "ride" home turned into a "push-your-bike-down-the-road" home, and we did just that. Luckily this area of Portugal is rather hilly, so there were opportunities to coast a few times.  Even with this mishap, as I said at the beginning, it was my favorite day so far in Portugal. 

When we finally arrived home, after dark, the evening was just getting underway. Our new friends, knowing our budget, shared their food and drinks into the morning hours. I don't have any pictures just fond memories, and slight dehydration. A nice way to end a long and fantastic day.

-T. Cullen Morris