Fall Break Part One: Portugal

So Suzy went to Portugal to help Bob on one of his Beer and Bike tours a year or so before we moved to Berlin, no doubt part of the reason we set our eyes on Europe. Listening more recently to separate advice from three or four of our expat colleagues, we knew our main objective for this year would be Sicily. But trying to make an opportunity of every minute, as Suzy does, she decided she wanted to share Portugal with us on our way down, and so she did.

Our first few days we stayed in Lisboa (Lisbon).

Had an old, but clean place, that, though we were not in the heart of the city, was still a bit loud at night. But we rested all the same and ventured forth the next day. Lisboa is often compared to San Francisco, with its great bay-spanning red bridge, its hilly streets and its old trollies to boot.

But the similarities stop there, what with its many centuries more of history and cultural influences. For one thing, the streets of Lisboa were often lined with tiled sidewalks, and the buildings were tiled, too.

Even the birds seemed to get into the spirit.

It was such a cool place. Scout found us a few yummy eateries (after getting hit by a surprise wave at the water's edge),

and the boys were happy to land in a football store, where they bought a Portugal sweatshirt and a Champion's League soccer ball; and where I absolutely refused to buy a pair of Cristiano Ronaldo-styled underwear. (Don't worry: picture NOT included.) Later we went to the aquarium, the highlight of which (for me, at least) was the long, mostly lost run to it--through a torrential downpour. Seriously, I think we were wetter than the fish we came to see.

Saw some cool things, though, like jelly fish, and these super-camouflaged sea horses. Dried off and on a better night's rest, we went the next day to Sintra,

which, though we prepared against it, offered us a day of perfect weather, not too warm and not too wet. We were grateful for that because our objective was this crazy unique palace on top of a mountain, and, of course, we decided to hike up to it.

I'm not sure which I liked better, the hike or the palace,

but either alone would have made the trip worth it.

(Did you note the tiled walls in the pictures above? Here is a close up:)

We headed back to Lisboa for one more night, ate at delicious restaurant (black noodles, and sea bass), found a place to watch PSG throttle A.C. Milan (3-0), and, perhaps most importantly, bought Kiefer a bag of Rizzos Cheetos.

(Don't ask.) The next day, we were off to Setubal, where we hoped for the first time this trip to get to a beach.

First, we had to navigate the train station. We did this by each standing in a different long line until it became clear which long line we needed to be in. We had a nice place in Setabul, but, somehow, it was three times louder than the place we had in Lisboa. Not even the boys could fall asleep in the room closest to the street. No matter, we set off to scope out the beach, and started what I did not know was going to be one of the recurring themes of our whole vacation: Picigin.

I am sure you can't remember this, but Picigin is the little white racket-ball game we learned in Split, Croatia. The idea is to keep the ball up as long as possible between you and your teammates with only a single touch each time. We did get pretty good in Split, but we were terrible on that first day in Setubal. How bad? Well, at some point, the boys both decide that it's not worth trying seriously anymore, which, no matter what your goal was, is the time limit. That first day, I don't think we achieved ten touches. But we were at it again the next day. We bused to totally secluded beach.

Listen to that again sentence: "bused" to a "secluded" beach. Right, the reason we were the only ones on a bus going to a supposedly popular beach was because of the conditions. It was windy and, at times, rainy, which played havoc with our Picigin plans... We missed the season apparently, but we persevered, and actually made a wonderful outing of it.

It was here, actually, between the intermittent rain dumps, which sent us to a cafe for cover,

(--note the sand in the hair) that I finally introduced my three people to body-surfing. We had a great time! The waves weren't like those in Costa Rica (--remember that, Wes?), but they were good enough to at least start to learn how to catch them.

Dinner, another loud night, a Suzy and Scout morning run on the beach,

and we were off to the airport, where we ran into some curiously familiar characters.

But it was time for Part Two of our adventure, and we were ready for it. All in all, Portugal was a wonderful trip. We were so happy Mama shared it with us, and she was happy to have us to share it with.

Had we called it the end, I think we all would have called it a successful vacation, but each of us knew Sicily, our highly recommended target, was around the corner, and we hoped it would live up to the hype--which it did...