1) This was going to be a day guided by Rycke Styves, the Baedaker of the 21st century, using two of his neighborhood walks to see some of the important sites. Inevitably I got lost, found my way again, covered ground from Monday, retraced my steps — and saw pieces of a vigorous and colorful and crowded and steep city.
José Marti. Note the graffiti in the background. All Portugal has been tagged.
2) It didn’t take long for me to make a wrong turn, but the advantage was I ended up in a pretty little park featuring a bust of Cuban national hero José Marti. And why not?
3) Shortly I was back on track and facing the Monumento aos Restauradores, the usual 19th-century obelisk — no home complete without!
At the base of the obelisk. We need more of this.
3a) This square is a popular spot for large tourist buses to load and unload.
4) The coffee at my bed and breakfast — it’s strong but it’s thin — and when I saw a Styrbyck’s at the Rossio Station, I went in to order a flat white, which was very satisfying.
5) I ended up exploring the station levels, but then realized I needed to go back into the square. This led me to follow the tracks of one of the yellow funicular trolleys. At the top, I looked about and had to laugh; I had popped out at the scenic overlook a couple blocks from my hotel. I’d made a roundabout without knowing it.
The exquisite side chapel of St. John the Baptist at the church of St. Roque.
6) My next stop was the beautiful Jesuit Church of St. Roque with its elaborate side chapels and flat ceiling with rather theatrical trompe l’oeil murals. Dark, quiet when the tourists allowed it. I did sit in the center of the church for a period of contemplation.
6a) And the church’s collection of relics is quite impressive.
7) The ruins of the Carmelite monastery — destroyed in the famous 1755 earthquake — became an archaeology museum in the 19th century. When I entered there were an awful lot of uniformed military types standing around. It appears some sort of commissioning or graduation ceremony had taken place (or had been rehearsed). There was also a cat.
The cat, for the cat lovers.
7a) They have managed to collect some interesting bits of historic stone here. Also, an impressive film projection of the history of the site.
8) The shoe store I passed did not have size 46.
Lunch at Trindade.
9) By happy chance I had passed a restaurant called Trindade — and I remembered that New York friends had recommended it. So I went for lunch and had a small steak the shape of Ohio in a wonderful sauce followed by a toucinho do céu for dessert and an espresso.
9a) The décor is really something — but the men’s room plumbing could use a few partitions.
It's all about accessorizing.
10) Then I got lost for a bit, as I do, but after some plodding and misdirection I ended up at the Lisbon location, the Praça de Comércio. The enormous statue of King José I takes up all the focus, including from the birds. Thank goodness he’s already wearing a helmet with feathers, so when extra plumage takes a perch it adds a bit of Josephine Baker to his look.
10a) Also, fabulous sculptural groups of people being trampled by a horse and an elephant. Drama!
11) The next stop on the tour was the church of Saint Nicholas, which I found easily. Again, a church where the focus was on prayer and the community and not on sightseers. It was useful for me to spend some time in contemplation here.
The ceiling of St. Nicholas.
12) Before I knew it, I was doing a double take. Hadn’t I seen that Starbucks before? Wouldn’t you know it, I’d made it back to the Rossio Station, where I’d had my flat white in the morning! And I was feeling flattened by all the walking.
13) But when I finally got back to my room, the drilling from next door made such a ruckus . . . oh, I hadn’t mentioned that, had I. There’s a major renovation of an old building next door, right next to my room. Had I known about this in advance, I wouldn’t be staying here. But I was texting with a friend who said “Why stay in? Go out for a bevvie!” And thankfully there was a barstool I could squeeze on to at Faz Frio (which always seems so full), and I tossed back a bit of rosé to start the evening.
14) Certain people I know have come out of the woodwork as devotées of fado, and would not be happy if I missed it in Lisbon (despite my having been in Coimbra). So I booked a ticket at one of the fado places recommended by ye Cyndé Nyst for 8:30. Finding it was easy enough. But . . . there was exactly no one and nothing to confirm that I was in the right place. A fairly large low-ceilinged dining room full of people and servers rushing about, but no hostess or maitre d’ or even a sign. Finally another couple arrived, and their guide just charged in to find someone to take care of us.
14a) Long story short (too late!), the fado was incredible. Three singers, the first being a man, and three or four guitarists. The food was exquisite, an extensive tasting menu. But being a lone diner in a room full mostly of large groups meant that I was a bit of an afterthought. This was confirmed when I was served my soup just as the lights were going down for the next set . . . with no spoon to eat it. I thought “Well, the lights are off, no one is going to see me if I just pick up the bowl,” but that would not have been Perfectly Proper. The waiter rushed over with a spoon and an apology as soon as the lights came back up.
The second singer. What a powerful talent.
14b) In a live performance it’s important to show respect for the artists. At the start of the first set, one of the women singers reminded the audience that silence during fado singing is an important part of the tradition. But some American tourists in one of the large groups, male and female, did not get the message. The singer paused, waiting for the silence to begin the set, but the silence did not come. After about ten seconds of them Not Getting the Message, a flurry of ssshhhhhhhes from all over the room let them know they needed to Show Some Respect.
14b.i) And before you chide me gently for taking a photo during a performance, it was announced at the beginning that photos without flash were permitted, but not video.
14c) And then we were brought into the plaintive world that is fado. I can’t describe it beyond saying that it comes from the depths of the heart. I was so surprised (first in Coimbra, but again here) that the song we know as “Avril en Portugal” is a fado song.
14d) The bonus of the evening came after the third set. The groups in the front of the room left (they had arrived well before I), while I had yet to get my last two courses. But I lingered long enough for an unexpected fourth set with all three singers, a nice bit of lagniappe.
15) It had been an intense day! I walked back to the hotel through a throng of tourists and other partyers in this active city.
At the Carmelite convent. I had to wait quite a while to get this without other people in it.