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So, I enjoyed Valencia, dug Madrid, loved Lisbon, and still I was so completely (almost inordinately and inexplicably) thrilled to touch back down in Barcelona tonight.  Hit that Catalan metro with some swagger cause it feels good to be back!

To commemorate my return to BCN, S.S.R. blog offers a limited time offer for all current readers.  Simply email cercatrova0710@gmail.com with your name, your mailing address and your favorite blog post to date, and S.S.R. will send you a sweetass Barcelona-Rocks-My-Socks souvenir.  But hurry!  Scheduled departure is November 8th, so act now! 

Limits and restrictions may apply (although none are presently foreseen).  Void where prohibited.  You must be 18 or older to play as the mature value of the souvenir can not as of yet be attested to.  Limit one response per viewer.

The Rain Doth Not Dampen My Appetite

What do you do when it pours in Lisbon for the second day in a row and you have no remaining taste for museums?  Fortunately, my appetite for lunch remains a sure thing.  So, I ordained today an eating day.  I had lunch indoors for the first time and this was not exactly an easy task to attempt when sidewalk dining dominates noon hour, rain or shine.  I cruised into Mezo Giorno Pizzeria and indulged in the namesake pizza.  The crust was thin, the sauce was legitimately tomato-y but not overwhelming, same for the cheese--good quality and just the right amount; my toppings consisted of a pleasantly smokey proscuitto, a sprinkling of parmesan and argula.  I augmented the delectable edible frisbee with fresh oregano and pepper.  I bet you're wondering if I ate the whole thing...keep wondering, wonderer.

I've never considered a dark beer, i.e., a stout, to be something within my tastebuds' desire.  I ordered one by mistake the other day and loved it, so I intentionally augmented my pizza with another dark local Lisbon brew.  The waiter tried to persuade me to go amber, but I showed him the hair on my chest.

As it was still pouring when my extended lunchtime came to a pleasantly stuffed conclusion, I found new refuge in Santini Gelati.  I'd passed this place all week, and it looked a little too slick to be too good, but I stand too corrected.  This is the best gelato I have had in years.  I had a coffee/chocolate combination.  Almost as good as the gelato is the cone which, even though tender seems an inappropriate adjective for carbs, was tender; it veritably melted in my mouth as quickly as the gelato.  It was like the cookie that legit gelaterrias used to add to a cup of gelato.

Yes, it was still raining (but that was to be expected since I ate my gelato fast).  So, I rounded out the lunchtime indulgences with an espresso macchiato.  Lisbon so has my number.

Vertical Fix #3 Thanks To Jesus

When the rain let up this afternoon, I wasted no time in grabbing the ferry to cross the river (to get to the other side) in order to check out the Cristo Rei monument.  The view of it from my side of the river was enticing and the promise of a vertical fix (you can climb up Jesus (courtesy of a lift for 4euros)) had me sold.  The banner coming down from the monument says "obrigado" which is "thank you" in Portugese.  "Thank you" has two versions in Portugese--the male and the female ("obrigada").  For the first day of my visit I thanked everyone as if I were a man.  A kind waiter duly informed me that based on his best assumptions, I should use "obrigada" all of the time.  (I have.)

The base of the monument stands 209 feet, and Jesus himself is 92 feet.  It took nine years to build starting in 1950.  In 1940 the idea was hatched as a plea to God to free Portugal from WWII, and the monument itself is inspired by Rio's Christ the Redeemer monument.

The views of both sides of Lisbon are spectacular.  This is facing north, showing the bridge going into my part of Lisbon.

This is facing east showing mostly not my part of Lisbon.  I was pleased with the efficiency of my monumental task; I hit the ferry at 5 to 4pm; it departed at 4pm; I was on the 101 bus bound for Cristo Rei by 4:15pm; at Cristo Rei by 4:30pm, back down at the bus by 5:00pm; back on the ferry at 5:25pm.  That's how you meet your maker (or his son at least).

Exhibits A-E

It is raining in Lisbon today (as was predicted).  Observe Exhibit A. [Exhibit A, above.]

In fact, it is pouring in Lisbon today.  Observe Exhibit B. [Exhibit B, above.]

Despite predictions, my intention today was to ride the ferry to the other side of the river.  I was thwarted (refer to Exhibits A & B for just cause of thwarting).  I did make it outside just in time to procure a fine umbrella, observe Exhibit C. [Exhibit C, above.]

In spite of how well the umbrella perfroms, observe simulated live action shot, Exhibit D [Exhibit D, above.], I remain indoors with myself (and my camera (and my trusty new umbrella)) as entertainment.  Fortunately, I also have books and coffee.  Perhaps I'll learn how to order a pizza in Portugese (anticipate Exhibit F).

Lisbon is actually quite a bit like San Francisco.  There are the cable cars, the super hilly streets, all of the pigeons, the rain (observe Exhibits A & B), and the bridge that crosses the Rio Tejo which was designed by the same engineers as the Golden Gate, observe Exhibit E from sunnier days. [Exhibit E, above.]

My Boots Were Sort Of Made For Walking

I set out from Cascais and cruised through Monte Estoril and Estoril which are especially resortlike locales.  The beach itself was pretty peaceful.  There were definitely fisherman out both in boats and from the piers.  There were a lot of people walking and some people sitting along the beach, but no one was in the water or sunbathing.

The strand stretch has a lot of cafes and restaurants and some cool structures along the way, some very castlelike in design (not sure the current function).

My goal upon leaving Cascais was to walk back to Lisbon.  The stretch is 16 miles, and after an hour and a half it appeared I'd only gone about 5 miles because I had made it to San Pedro which is about a third of the stretch.

My other goal was to see if there were any waves worth doing anything on.  I'd heard and also read on some surf blogs that the surfing was at least adequate.  So, I kept walking.  San Pedro (pictured above) ended up being the sweet spot for some waves.

(This is the beach part of San Pedro.)

I encountered surfers and paddle surfers in San Pedro and after snapping up the rest of my camera's memory I felt like my mission was complete enough, plus it was getting hot and sunny, and as I was not wearing sunscreen, the train station became my next and final destination.

Strutted My Boots To The Beach

I woke up very early for my Iberian standards and made it to the beach by 9:30am.  It's about a half hour train ride from Lisbon (Cais do Sodre) to the end of the line, Cascais.  There are fifteen stops along the way. 

I enjoyed a killer pastry and cafe latte at a bakery in Cascais and crusised these adorable streets for a bit; then I hit the "strand" to check out the beach.

The property along the beach seemed to be mostly residential.  The cove of Cascais is all fishing boats and fishermen, and they were out and about on this lovely morning (it was about 22C, and the marine layer burned off by 11am).

Now A Word From Our Non-Sponsor: Seba

Whomever Seba is, she's got it worked out to her advantage.  I'm willing to wager she's got a tattoo that is similarly ambiguous.  There is graffiti everywhere in Lisbon except for the churches.  Some of it is of a more artistic hue, but most of it is scrawling.  The most popular is a simple and familiar two worder: "Beach Boys".  I have yet to discover if there is local significance. 

This music truck is a staple in the Chiado district.  I liked the way the tunes from it sounded, so I investigated further and learned that there was a Fado performance I could attend.  So, I indulged in some Fado the other night which was definitely fun.  I'd go again and am told that there is a spot where it's more like an "open mike" night for Fado talent that's supposed to be excellent.

Everytime I cross the street I hold my breath.  Portuguese people are uber pleasant, and Portugese drivers are uber aggressive.  There have been a few instances where I could feel my toes retract inside my boots; the best bet seems to be to follow the lead of women and children, but not geriatics as they take the most crossing risks of everyone.  Lisbon is in the top 6 most visited Southern European cities and is ranked as the world's 25th most livable city.

Seafood is definitely the name of the game.  There is everything and anything to do with catching fish everywhere.  I've never seen so many tinned varieties, and it is good on its own merit which surprised me.  The olives rock, and so does the white port (but I've already digressed to the note of white port).

For 7 Euros You Can Penetrate The Impenetrable

This morning I set out determined to get to the beach.  I had a planned detour at Jeronymo Coffee for cappuccino, and then I was hitting the sand (in my boots).  Then I got sidetracked to the Alfama district which is the Medieval part of Lisbon.  As I purposefully walked from Jeronymo to the metro station, I was stopped.  This is no longer just a Spain thing wherein people for some unknown reason think that I know where I'm going.  This time, the stopper asked me if I knew where he could find a Portuguese phrase book.  Bookstores are almost every other shop window in Lisbon, so I was inclined to think that the inquirer was not overly astute, so I relented to assist (finding books is a speciality of mine in any part of the world).  Be that as it was, it was nice to chat with someone new (although, at this point, even my English seems to be waning).  My new amigo was from Istanbul by way of Holland working on an exchange program to study benign brain tumors (I doubt that jargon will be found in the phrase book that I helped procure after a few yards stroll).  So, in the course of a walk and talk, we ended up at the Castelo de S. Jorge. 

Similar to the castle in Barcelona, and probably to most any other castle worth its weight in bricks, this castle was big, old and very sturdy looking.  In the 11th century, the Moors built it in a last ditch effort to sequester the elite who resided on the citadel.  Now, the ruins are home to a grip of cats and peacocks. 

It occurs to me that castles may just not be my thing.  Although, if the knights in their shiny armor were hanging out maybe that'd be a different story.  Regardless, the views were spectacular.  Before blatantly ditching my now very chatty friend who liked the castle and all of the printed info about it way more than I did, he told me how good he thought Portuguese food was especially compared to what he'd experienced in Holland.  He went on to add that all girls in Holland wear boots regardless the season;this data cannot as of yet be corroborated by any other sources.  However, I did find it an interesting coincidence that on the next adventure of my day (a cable car ride to nowhere in particular is a lot less expensive and far less conspicous than a tourist bus) I met a girl from Holland.  I told her she had nice boots (and they were).

Vertical Fix #2 Thanks To Santa Justa

So, Lisbon is rockin' my socks off in no time at all.  The city is dirty, and it is literally as old as bricks, and things are falling apart everywhere, but it's entirely old and beautiful, and has personality and texture that strikes me as both very unique and utterly embrasive.  The people here are the most pleasant people on the planet.  Hands down.



I spent the majority of my day cruising the Chiado district.  One of the stops I made was at the Santa Justa lift.  It is an iron elevator that's a little more than 100 years old.  It provides a lovely 360 aerial view of the city and also succeeded in providing me with a bit of a vertical fix.

Lunchtime (yes, lunchtime again) was perhaps the best meal I've had the entire trip thus far.  Fish is aplenty here, whether in terms of buying, catching or eating it.  So, I had grilled fish and potatos for lunch (which is pretty classic fare), and it was outstanding.  It was so outstanding, I had some more for dinner.  My hostess took me out to a bait and tackle shop and bar/restaurant where we enjoyed a white port with our meal.  Apparently the Duoro Valley of Portugal is pretty renowned for this variety.  It is delicious.

For all that it appears I will be eating and drinking, I will also be getting continuous cardio activity.  The ups and downs of the uneven cobblestone streets make San Francsico look like a cake walk.  Plus, my apartment is on the 5th floor which is actually really 10 flights of stairs.  That's a lot of walking, but that means I get to eat a lot of fish and drink a lot of white port.

A New Dance

Yesterday was my last full day in Madrid.  I would definitely return to Madrid, but it wouldn't be the first stop on my list.  I considered rowing a boat in the park for my grand finale, but then I recalled what a futile ordeal that was when I tried at Golden Gate.  So, I returned to my favorite part of town, El Sol.  I came up the metro entrance to find the entire square of people decked out in yellow plastic bag panchos.  This was confusing.  First, I confirmed that I was not wearing a yellow plastic bag pancho; I was not, but looking at everyone else in one played a trick on my mind.  Next, I confirmed that it was a perfectly sunny, glorious, not a cloud in the sky day; it was, but looking at everyone in their yellow plastic bag panchos had me wondering if I was the only one not clued into a major impending downpour.  Then a bunch of pamphlets were passed my way (along with my very own, yup, yellow plastic bag pancho), and I learned that they were having a gathering to support acquired cerebral palsy.  It was all energy and dancing (and yellow plastic bag panchos), and I thought it was pretty cool that everyone joined in.  I am now, also, ready for any rain that comes my way.  I am so prepared...in that yellow plastic bag pancho sort of way.

I also visited the Centro for their Sunday open air bazaar, Rastro, and I met some interesting vendors.  We'll leave it at that (but I'm pretty sure a lady with no teeth sold me a shirt for a friend and hit on me at the same time). 

I totally enjoyed my first round of paella and sangria (yes, it's lunchtime again).  I got the version with lots of seafood.  It was totally tasty, and I was pretty hungry.  They're intended to be shared, but I wasn't planning on it until...the bees showed up.  First it was one.  Then it was two, and then it was three and four.  They totally were into my paella.  (After having seen the offbeat horror movie "Candyman" I know that this is because bees like to bunker down in corpses, and the prone, cooked bodies of the crustaceans in my paella pan were irresistible to them.)  I'm not scared of bees but not wanting to end up making a scene since I didn't know how to say bee in Spanish (abeja), I surrendered.

I took an hour flight out of Madrid today to Lisbon.  Now I have a full blown Iberian adventure.  I am digging Portugal already, and the B&B style apartment that I'm renting is utterly my new infatuation.  [This is the door to my Lisbon bedroom.  I loooooove it!]

How To Sell Your Head In Madrid*

Step 1: Set up shop...this consists of a piece of plywood with three headsized holes in it. It is very important that an average human head (i.e., yours) can fit through the openings, or you will not get very far with your effort to sell your head. You should arrive at the scene of your shop with your face painted and hair done. Tip: Wear comfortable clothes and shoes as you will be crouched in a small space for a good part of the day.

Step 2: Decorate...you can use a plastic party tablecloth to cover the exposed space beneath your makeship table. Bridal shower, Easter or First Communion themed cloths are highly recommended as they will contrast well with the wreaths that should circle each head hole. These wreaths can be made using simple Christmas garlands, but make sure the garland looks like it has been in the sewer. Tip: the deocrations are all about the juxtaposition of something serene with something gothic.

Step 3: The lure...place two faux heads with full and brightly colored hair to the left and right of the center head hole. Then, disappear. This is elemental. You must leave the scene for at least a half an hour in order to begin to cultivate an interest. People will wonder about your table with two heads, and this is good because these same passersby will be your paying customers soon. Tip: while you are away from your table, procure a can for your money; ideally this should have an oversize copy of a 10 or 20 Euro bill taped to it to subliminally encourage generous donations.

Step 4: The execution...return to your table quickly and without drawing too much attention to yourself. Deftly slide beneath the table and insert your head in the middle head hole. Tip: Do not be in such a rush that you knock the table over. This will definitely ruin your chances for staying in this spot for the rest of the day and in all likelihood will bring your confidence down regardless of whether you decide to relocate.

Step 5: Sell your head...Start turning from side to side and making funny and/or scary and/or leering noises at passersby. Roll your eyes, wink, grin, scowl and groan. While making faces and noises use the sticks attached to the faux heads on either side of yours and turn them back and forth as well so as to make the entire table of heads appear to be writhing. Tip: Your best victims will most likely be children and women; both give the best screeches and screams and are typically in the company of a man who has change in his pocket. Bonus tip: Do not provoke dogs. They are unpredictable and while there is a chance they could snare more attention in your direction with their yelps, it is more likely that they will lift their leg on your table and/or knock over the table and/or bite your face off.

The Art Of Looking At A Lot Of Art

Today was art day in Madrid (for me). My first stop was El Prado which is gigantic; the museum has 5,000 pieces on permanent display. ...And now, I will list and describe each of them for you...

Actually, I didn't stay that long. Upon realizing that I have a small appetite for religious imagery and an even smaller one for slow moving shuffling crowds (or vice-versa), I made the rounds of the salas with the artists I most wanted a sampling of, including Velazquez, Goya and El Greco, and then I blew past everyone else who had their audio helmets on for the next four hours and hit my next museum. I will add that the grounds for El Prado are very gorgeous as is the structure itself.

Actually, my next stop was lunch. I love lunch. Yes I do. I love wine with my lunch too. Yes I do! So after lunch, I hit the Reina Sofia Center of Art. This uber modern building is enticing in and of itself. The funding must be spectacular because the entrance fee was nada. The collection is more contemporary, and, in fact, consists largely of artists I'd seen in Barcelona--Dali, Miro and Picasso.

So, in short summary (as redundant as that may be), the art of seeing a lot of art is to move quickly. I returned to the El Sol district and had a good ol time cruising the streets and checking out the pieces of human art there.