Utter fatigue to blessed luxury all in one day.
Travel is never easy. Once again, we arrived at Hartsfield International airport hoping to go somewhere international. Sara awoke from her nap right as we jumped from the car crying out ‘Daddy’. My parents sped away and we hoped for take off. The Delta line was long. At the end, we were told to get in the Air France line (much smaller). Our flight left at late afternoon on Sunday without event. The flight went uneventfully. There was no wiggly, squirming child to appease. We watched Girl with a Pearl Earring and went to sleep. I got about 3 hrs of sleep. Meals were good. I actually ate a fresh tuna salad with marinated chickpeas. I watched Witness on the seatback TV screen. Viggo Mortensen had a non-speaking part.
All the passengers stumbled off the plane at 6am Paris time. We walked down the stairs onto a tarmac. Our connection was very tight. Several staff were there to meet us, but just vaguely waved to a bus 200 yards away. Once loaded on the bus in the still dark morning, we asked the driver if he’d take us to our terminal. He was a large black man who only grunted responses, made no eye contact, acted as if inquiries were rubbish, and listened to loud techno English-French rap. This caused us bleary eyed travelers alarm and uncertainty in light of a ticking clock and the remoteness of our location. We drove around in darkness for 20 minutes, throughout dark mechanical complexes that didn’t look remotely like terminals, once getting lost, to the beat of foreign music and the growing murmurs of alarm of the passengers. We finally stopped at a plain white metal door. Inquiries to the driver were met with a disgusted wave. Meekly, we all crept off the bus and entered this door that didn’t look like a main entrance. We were in a odd corner of Charles De Gaul and had 30minutes to find our terminal. Fatigued and adrenalized, we ran through this early morning maze reading French as best we could. Eventually we found the right place and loaded on a flight to Lisbon.
I slept and was jolted awake by our arrival. Then I was more fatigued. Customs was a wave from an official. Bags blessedly arrived. 2 ATMS refused our cards. Wayne’s never worked. Finally we had some euros. The bored TI attendant refused our request for a taxi voucher (more expensive, but avoids the chance of taxi scams) and directed us to the bus. After 2 attempts we found the Aerobus stop and took #91. We followed the map and were able to navigate to the hotel. Then the luxury began.
Hotel Avenida Palace was unassuming at first. A porter opened the door and took our bags (I neglected to tip this service in my jet lagged state!). The elevator didn’t even have a door that closed and just rolled past exposed wall. The 6th floor was dark with motion sensing lights that quickly turned off. The key card was required to turn on lights in the room. The room was luxurious, decorated in Georgian style. Finally all the rushing of travel stopped. We unpacked, showered, slept, soaked in the view, read some books. They brought breakfast to our room, tea and coffee, sweetbreads and croissants with jam. By 3pm, we were ready to meet our new city.
We started with a walk suggested by Rick Steves through the local neighborhoods of Baixa and Chiado. We took a funicular (a one street trolley) up a steep hill to a viewpoint at a park.
Lisbon is a grittier European city. Some might say it’s dirty, to me it just seems more ‘lived in’. Munich, in comparison, was impossibly clean. There’s colorful graffiti everywhere, occasional dog feces on the sidewalks, things are broken and often in disrepair. We had to the street often because sidewalks were blocked by abandoned construction projects. Cars were parked everywhere in jumbled ways. Cars would regularly invade the pedestrian only walkways. Tiled sided buildings often had clashing colors or broken tiles. Windows would be bricked over and laundry hung out to dry. The whole city exuded a breezy charm. The place seemed a nice mix of South American, Mediterranean, and African cultures. The population was a mix of these cultures with darker skin and hair.
We poked our heads into the Porto institute, but decided expensive port tasting wasn’t our mood. We looked round a church with a chapel of multiple baby cherubs. I stopped for iced tea at a Pastelaria (bakery). We stopped at a mall w/ a food court and got gelato. We walked round the Baixa with a pedestrian zone. New students for college were being hazed and walking the streets asking for money dressed in funny costumes. The older students wore black uniforms with cloaks reminescent of Hogwarts students. We finally settled in one of many restaurants for dinner. The staff spoke multiple languages. A barker stood by the displayed menu and advertised the meals trying to attract customers. Dinner starts late around 7-8pm. Early goers avoid the smoke. Wayne had portuguese pork and clams while I tried mixed grilled meats (seemed mostly pork). It was a meat and potatoes type meal, in retrospect the lowest quality of the trip, but it felt very satisfying at the time. We were well positioned to people watch.
Back at the hotel, we figured out how to access the internet. I got to talk to Mom and Dad via the computer using Skype. Sara was getting a bath and kept repeating daddy (probably since Mom was on the phone). She reportedly is happy with her current arrangements and hasn’t missed us in the least. So much for maternal worries.
Exhaustion is the best technique for fighting jet lag. I went right to sleep and stayed that way for the next 10 hrs.