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).