Shadows In The Noche

Today is All Saints Day, and most of Barcelona took it seriously (i.e., a lot of places were closed).  However, I managed to eat very well all the same.  My inagural day back on Catalan soil included a pasta lunch of stuffed tortellini'ish configurations with pear and ricotta dressed in a light cream sauce with mushrooms (a Barcelona speciality it seems to be) and scallions.  For dinner, I sailed full steam ahead into a paella marinera.  It was full of lobster, shrimp, clams, mussels and white fish.  On both occasions, I augmented the meal with vino tinto in the crianza variety, which, to me has all of the qualities of a petite syrah and the bite without the mouthiness of a cab.

I cruised on foot my favorite sections of town and made some new friends along the way.  I kicked my feet up on a park bench for a while and made the acquaintance of an Italian photographer who spoke Spanish as well as very good English.  Encounters of this multi-lingual disposition continue to result in me becoming more and more mute as the conversation continues and my gestures become grander and grander.  This gentleman asked me twice if I liked the theater (as an indirect response to my vibrant gesturing).  Similarly, for as common a name as "Carmen" is in Spain, it becomes more and more foreign to me...perhaps the excessive rolling of the "r" or the inevitable high rising of eyebrows when I legitimately share that my name is Carmen; it's resulting in a unique case of identity examination (not to be exchanged for crisis).

I stole into the men's room after dinner tonight because women (in any part of the world, apparently) take an interminably long time.  I was totally bemused with the dispenser on location in said men's room.  It wasn't condoms but toothbrushes--a prophylactic in and of its own right, I suppose.

I've developed a serious case of camera finger when it comes to beautiful buildings (and they abound).  This was just a nice facade.

The marionette man was in full swing on La Rambla today.  His kiosk neighbor was a pet store of sorts which I found somewhat perplexing.  Ostensibly, those cruising La Rambla are visitors, but these folks were selling birds and vermin (e.g., hamsters, guinea pigs and gerbils).  In fact, the family across the sidewalk from me at lunch plopped their plastic cage containing one squirmy mouse-like pet-to-be on the table like it was a regular basket of bread.  I had finished eating which I considered buena suerte.

Limited Time Offer

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).