France came and went. I pushed a plan as we wrapped up Paris that took us to Portugal and then down to Tangier and out to Fez to ride camels. We never made it to Morocco actually, but we did get to Lisbon from Paris. We flew out out of De Gaulle the next day. We only stayed a couple of days in Lisbon, then flew out to Madrid. But we were there. Here's a short story...
In the Lisbon airport on arrival. This Starbucks has this museum explanation behind the counter. Starbucks coffee in Lisbon, by the way, was really pricey. I think four euros for a latte, which made it more pricey than the States.
Lisbon is cheap. We rented a HUGE flat for four days for like $100. There were two full bedrooms, which we didn't need, and this massive living room. The woman that rented it to us showed up at night, gave us a brief tour, and the keys. You pay on AirBnB or booking before you show up, and it's all arranged. Sometimes something funky happens like a last minute cancellation or some snafu, but it's not typical, and it gets sorted out. This was seamless, especially since we arrived after dark in a taxi from the airport.
Bedroom One
Bedroom Two
Looking out onto the water. I don't remember the story with the colored rock arrangements here.
Typical scene in Lisbon. Portugal is chill. You can't mistake it. It would be weird to see someone running in Lisbon. Like: catching a bus even would seem stressful and out of place. Spain by contrast is faster paced.
Me flunking out of photography school
View from the street maybe 100 meters from our flat. The red styled roofs are common.
You could walk down here and view the bay (or inlet) from our flat.
The back patio.
There was a big street party going on the next night. Down this cobble stone street in an open area, next to the water. It was packed with people, there was live music but it seemed not really organized, like a jam session that sort of came together with locals. It wasn't clear what the occasion was, and we didn't bother asking. Everyone was talking and laughing. This was a little bar we ducked into. Later we ended up embroiled in this gaiety for reasons increasingly obscure. Portugal, like I said, seems really sort of naturally like a place where people don't like to stress. It's like Santa Cruz California without stoned Americans.
Fuzzy photo of flaming dinner.
Anya
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