Portugal and Bust

[lillibet]

Monday 21 May

I managed to get the house clean and the shopping done just in time to go
meet Claudia at the Royal Festival Hall
(http://www.travelbritain.com/london/tourism/thames/festival_hall.html) for
coffee. It was a gorgeous day, so we sat outside and I showed her the
pictures from Scandinavia and we caught up a little on what we've been up to
in the ages since we'd seen each other. She and Jim are in the process of
figuring out where they want to live next and I put in a strong plug for
Boston. The hall is just up the river from the National Theater
(www.nationaltheatre.org.uk), where I met Jason at 7pm to see two short
plays by Edward Albee, "The Marriage Play" and "Finding the Sun." Neither
had been produced in England before. They were both written while the
author was teaching in the Midwest during his unpopular phase between "Who's
Afraid of Virginia Woolf" and "Three Tall Women." "Finding the Sun" was
written in workshop with one of his classes and I think that really shows.
While the dialogue had Albee's characteristic tone, the relationships
between the characters rang very false. "The Marriage Play" was better, but
it was about two characters stuck in a single moment and didn't seem to have
much to say. But it was good to have seen them, to expand our knowledge of
his work.

Tuesday 22 May

We took the tube out to Heathrow, picked up the rental car and swung back
around to the terminal to pick up my parents, arriving from Boston via
Iceland. They'd had a long trip and were very tired. The M25 wasn't too
backed up and Jason drove so I could chat with the folks. Our first task,
on reaching home, was to see our wedding album, which they had brought with
them. Eight months after our wedding, it was very exciting to finally have
the album and it looks great. Mom & Dad took a nap and I made them a dinner
of traditional roast beef with Yorkshire pudding to welcome them to England.

Wednesday 23 May

Mom and I got up early and made it down to the Chelsea Flower Show
(www.rhs.org.uk) just after nine. We were very glad we were early, because
it wasn't empty at that point and got more and more crowded as the day went
on. I believe we managed to stroll down every aisle, through both enormous
pavilions, past all the show gardens, through the exhibitions of flower
arranging and scientific principles. We saw so many flowers! Mom is a
great person with whom to see a show like that, because she recognizes most
of the flowers and knows so much about them. We saw stalls with hundreds of
different kinds of orchids or more varieties of alstromeria than I knew
existed and so many beautiful roses! It was quite hot and sunny and we kept
to the shade and inside as much as possible. We thought about lunch, but
the facilities for food were just overwhelmed, so we stuck it out for
another hour, until we'd pretty much seen it all, and walked back out into
Sloane Square. We had a lovely light lunch of salads at Simply Nico
(http://www.trpplc.com/flash/simplynico.htm)--tomato & mozzerella for Mom
and smoked duck for me--and then headed home on the tube. There was more
napping and looking at pictures and then I made one of my better paellas for
dinner.

Thursday 24 May

We were slow getting out of the house, but I did eventually bite the bullet
and take to the wheel to transport my parents down to Hampton Court Palace
(http://www.hrp.org.uk/hcp/indexhcp.htm). A favorite of Henry VIII, the
remaining Tudor sections are probably the most interesting parts of the
palace, but the Georgian renovations provide an interesting contrast. We
didn't have time to explore the gardens, but Daddy had been a real trooper
on all the stairs and was ready for a rest by the time we finished the
palace proper. The M25 (the ring road around London--like 495 around
Boston) had been sufficiently slow on the trip down (we live around one
o'clock and Hampton Court is at about seven) that we decided to take the
more central North Circular and while that was more complicated, it was
definitely quicker.

Driving on the left for the first time was quite an adventure. It really
only took the first twenty minutes or so to get used to it. As Barbara had
told me, it makes it much easier than you think that you're still in the
middle of the road with the oncoming traffic next to you. The hardest thing
is making a right turn across traffic. In the States, one does occasionally
make a left turn that doesn't require you to cross traffic--onto a one-way
street--but NEVER the reverse and it feels terribly strange. The worst
moment had nothing to do with the direction of traffic, however. As you
approach the Hammersmith Bridge (http://web.ukonline.co.uk/members/honor.m/history/thames/hammersmith.html)--a
Victorian monstrosity painted bright, blecherous green with gilt curlicues
and not helped by signs saying WEAK BRIDGE--there are these bizarre curbs,
rather like very narrow chutes, just barely wider than our not-large car.
At a moment when I was having some lane confusion and overcoming the
background challenge of a deep sense of wrongness, this additional hurdle
was unwelcome and as I maneuvered my way out onto the bridge I was shouting
"Not FAIR! NOT fair!"

We did make it home in time for us to change and for me to start packing for
our trip. We headed down to the Savoy--with a brief forced detour across
the Waterloo Bridge to Southwark and back--and picked up our tickets for the
evening. The Savoy Group
(http://www.savoy-group.co.uk/savoy_theatre/savoy_theatre.html) has a
wonderful deal where you can book stalls tickets and get dinner in the Savoy
Grill for only five quid more per person than the tickets cost on their own.
So we had a lovely meal (Caesar salad with smoked salmon for all of us,
followed by more salmon for Jason and roast beef with port wine sauce from
the trolley for the rest of us) followed by _The Pirates of Penzance_. It
was a fairly standard performance, but distinguished by an excellent Pirate
King (kind of a cross between Kevin Kline and Greg Wise). One of the odd
touches was that it was quite obvious that Frederic was very much happier
being a pirate than he was as an upright citizen. Their Ruth was quite weak
and their Modern Major General--the same actor we loved as Poobah in _The
Mikado_--seemed to be off that night and was messing up the timing on his
song. But overall it was fun. There was a group of people behind us and one
of the women was saying that yes, they had gone ahead and gotten married
earlier in the day. They seemed to be enjoying the policemen's numbers in
the show much more than the rest of us and during the curtain call the
conductor came up on stage and explained that the couple is a former police
commissioner and a former-MP-turned-successful-author. Then the policemen
came out and did a parody of their number as "This Policeman's Lot Will Be a
Happy One," which was fun and silly.

Friday 25 May

After a late night out, it was not very pleasant to have to be out of the
house by 7am. Daddy was sure that we'd said we would leave by 6 am and
tried to wake us up at 5:15, but we were having none of it. We left just on
time and made it to the airport by 8:30am. Since the duty free section at
Heathrow is the only shopping mall we visit regularly, we took the
opportunity to get Jason a new pair of dress shoes and me a couple of new
bags and a few books, including a repackaging of _Now We Are Six_ as _Now We
Are Seventy-Five_ that I thought Mother would enjoy. Our flight was very
crowded and we were stuck in the very last row, but it was good to be seated
together. The food was subpar for BA...a very damp and wilted croissant with
tomatoes, mozzarella and portobello slices that had seen better days.

On arrival in Lisbon, we got our bags easily and hopped in a cab before
realizing that we'd forgotten to change any money. Luckily the folks had
dollars, which are usually acceptable to cabbies and ours was no exception.
We checked into the hotel Marques de Sa,
(http://bestlodging.com/sites/13291/index.shtml) up near the Fundacao
Gulbenkian, and the others settled in while I went out for cash. The desk
clerk told me there was a bank machine just down the block, but it had an
out-of-service sign on it, so I went back to the hotel and asked where
another one might be had. The clerk explained that we were on a street of
banks, so just keep going in the same direction and I'd come to several
more. Passing the first one, I found one at the end of the same block.
Another woman was trying to use it and explained, as she turned away in
disgust, that it was out of cash. Across the street was another machine,
but it was surrounded by a small crowd of dismayed people, so I skipped that
one and proceeded to the end of that block and finally found a bank machine
in service, with cash, and was able to complete my transaction. On the way
back I picked up "pregos" at the pastelaria on the corner. They're thin
slabs of grilled beef on a roll--quick, greasy and quite tasty.

After napping for an hour or so, we headed out to see the city. We had a
taxi drop us at the Castelo Sao Jorge
(http://www.azureva.com/gb/portugal/magazine/castelojorge.php3), at the
crest of the Alfama district. While the site has certainly been occupied
since the 4th century, the exposed ruins are mainly of the walls of the
Moorish stronghold overthrown by Dom Afonso Henrique in the 12th century and
of the castle he built within it. It's a beautiful site, especially at
sunset, and we enjoyed strolling there. In one courtyard was an exhibit of
sculptures by Folon, a Belgian artist. We parked Daddy there to enjoy the
art and the music of a busking guitarist, while Mom, Jason and I clambered
up to the top of the walls for the view of the city and the Rio Tejo (River
Tagus). We were somewhat dreading the long walk back down toward the
centro, where we were more likely to find a cab, and were quite relieved to
see a bus waiting just outside the castle gate. We hopped on and were
quickly deposited in the Rossio, one of the main squares of the city. We
walked through some shopping alleys up to the main train station, where we
paused for an ice cream--and an excuse for a rest--before taking one of the
several "elevadores" or funiculars up the hill to the Instituto do Vinho
Porto (http://www.ivp.pt/uk/html/ivp3.htm). Before going inside, we
strolled out through the park to look over the city from that side, and then
went in to sample four very different styles of port. Giddy, we took the
tram back down and found a street filled with seafood restaurants. Choosing
one more or less at random, we ended up at the Lagosto Real, where we had
various soups (alentejera for Jason and me, lightly garlic soup with bread
and egg in it--an interesting concept that could have been better
executed)-- and seafood (cod for Dad, trout for Mom and me and a casserole
of seafood and rice for Jason). We were preparing ourselves to tackle the
metro, when a cab happened along at the right moment and we jumped in and
were whisked back to the hotel.

Saturday 26 May

After breakfast in the hotel, we set out to find the Sao Sebastian metro
stop that was two blocks from the hotel. The entrance we could find was
closed due to construction and before we found the open entrance, a taxi
came by and we decided to do that instead. With four of us, taxis in Lisbon
are cheap enough that it's not much more expensive to do that than take
public transportation. We had the cab drop us at the Mosteiro dos Jeronimos
(Monastery of St. Jerome--http://www.ricksteves.com/ccinfo/lisbonbit.htm)
out in the Belem district, west of the city proper. We toured the section
of the monastery that's open to the public, admiring the newly cleaned
cloister there. In walking down from the balcony overlooking the church, I
managed to twist my ankle and had a few minutes of fright and pain, but it
passed quickly and I was able to keep walking. We visited the church itself
and then entered the museum of archeology that's housed in another section
of the monastery building. They had two exhibits open, one on Egypt that we
whizzed through pretty quickly, and another about a Stone Age community in
Portugal that seems--from the artifacts and structures displayed--similar to
the people in Ireland around the same time. Daddy had sat out that part of
our day, so he was able to join us again for the Maritime Museum
(http://www.luso.u-net.com/marinha.htm), in yet another section of the
Monastery, with its many, many models of Portuguese ships throughout the
ages, from early fishing vessels to modern submarines. We walked out
through the exhibit of royal barges to the cafe where we got some chicken
and cabbage soup and sandwiches. After that break, we walked across the
park to the Monumento dos Descobrimentos
(http://home.online.no/~nancys/portugal/lisboa/sights/monumento.html), built
in 1960 as a tribute to Portugal's many explorers, on the spot that was a
departure point for many of their ships. It's a lovely monument and there's
an elevator to the top providing views up and down the Tagus.

Daddy had really had enough by then, so we found a cab and went back to the
hotel. After a short nap, Jason and I headed out to the park at the end of
the block. There we visited the Centro de Arte Moderna's
(http://www.gulbenkian.pt/camjap/index_ing.html) collection of modern works,
including many by native son Amadeo de Sousa Cardoso, and a special exhibit
of works by Rui Sanchez which we enjoyed. The place is relatively small and
we finished just after five and then wandered through the charming sculpture
garden over to the Museu Calouste Gulbenkian. It is described by our
guidebook as "easily Portugal's finest museum" and we were planning to visit
it the next day with the parents, but wanted to figure out which would be
the most convenient entrance to use. It was a good thing, because that's
how we found out that the museum is closed until July for renovation. This
was to become something of a theme in Lisbon.

We picked the parents up at the hotel and walked five blocks or so to the
Grand'Elia, a restaurant recommended by the desk clerk. We had a very tasty
meal. After complimentary glasses of port, Jason and I both started with
the fish bisque, while Mom had a salad that got much better once the waiter
realized he'd forgotten to give her the oil & vinegar for it. Dad tried the
"steak on a stone," a thin filet of beef served on a hot stone set into a
platter with rice and salad on the side. Mom had something extremely like
wiener schnitzel, while Jason had the grilled turbot and I had a mixed grill
of lamb, beef, pork and sausage. Jason and I split a dessert of fruit with
vanilla soft-serve ice cream and berry sauce, while Mom didn't help Dad very
much with his fruitcake-like dessert. Along with our bill we got
complimentary shots of the local cherry brandy. Dad's legs were tired, so
we got a cab back to the hotel.

Sunday 27 May

After breakfast on Sunday we went to the Igreja do Sao Roque (Church of
St. Rock), which includes a Chapel of St. John the Baptist created in Italy,
disassembled, shipped to Lisbon and rebuilt there. It contains three
"paintings" which are actually mosaics worked so finely that at first glance
they seem to be oils, not tesserae. There was a cab waiting in front of the
church, so we took that down to the Convento do Carmo (Convent of the
Carmelite nuns) and unfortunately let the cab go before figuring out that
the convent is closed for renovations until July. So we had a warm walk
down the hill to the Museu do Chiado
(http://www.ipmuseus.pt/ingl/museus/chiado.htm) where we strolled through
their extensive collection of Portuguese surrealists. A cab took us from
there up to the Mosterio do Sao Vicente, where we just made it in to see the
church before it closed up for the lunch hour. Daddy found a bench and
waited while the rest of us climbed up through the extensive monastery. Mom
and I made it as far up as the first terrace, but Jason decided to tackle
the tower and got some lovely pictures. There was a special exhibit of a
series of azulejos (tile) mosaics depicting scenes from a popular book
of very strange fables from the 18th century. Leaving there, we decided to
take the tram down and discovered that we could have taken it directly from
the museum, had we but known. We didn't have a specific destination in
mind, so we stayed on until the end of the line. In Lisbon's narrow,
twisty, crowded streets, a simple tram ride is a real adventure. At the end
of the line we weren't far from the Amoeiras shopping center, which had been
recommended as the site of at least a few good restaurants, so we grabbed a
cab and went up there. We had a nice lunch at Portugalia, including fish
bisque for all of us, cod & chips for Jason, rice with shrimp for me, and a
plate of cold prawns for Daddy. Those came with their heads and shells on,
so we all chipped in to peel them. In addition, we ate the "cover." This
is a tradition at Portuguese restaurants. They put some subset of bread,
butter, cheese, cream cheese, olives, smoked ham, croquettes, shrimp,
etc. on the table at the beginning of the meal. If you eat it, you get
charged for it, if you don't you dont.

After lunch, Daddy wanted a belt and I wanted a hat, so we wandered through
the mall for an hour, but failed to find either. We took a taxi back to the
hotel and napped for a bit. Mom & Dad both felt tired and not hungry, so we
went out for dinner on our own. Jason had noticed an ad for an Outback
Steakhouse on one of the tourist maps we were using. Since we hadn't been
to an Outback since well before we left California, he was interested in
checking it out. So we took the metro down to the waterfront and found our
way to the Outback. After seating us and taking our drinks order, our very
cheerful waitress explained that they don't actually serve any steaks.
Apparently, the US office decided that the steaks they were serving were not
"Outback Quality Steaks" and restricted them to the other entrees on the
menu until they can come up with a way to supply them. So we had the Alice
Springs Chicken (breasts baked with mushrooms, bacon and cheese) and their
excellent salads and were pleased, if somewhat disappointed. We took the
metro back to the hotel and packed up all our stuff.

Monday 28 May

We got an early breakfast--and then lost most of that time because the desk
clerk couldn't wrap her brain around the idea of one person paying for two
rooms--and headed out to the airport to pick up our car. Only they didn't
have the model car we had reserved ready. First they tried to talk us into
taking a convertible instead, but we explained that Mom would scream
(amusing for the first few minutes, but tiresome after that). So then they
offered to upgrade us to an automatic, larger vehicle and I was pleased with
that idea, especially since the rate would be much lower than the one I'd
been originally quoted for an automatic. We ended up with a black Nissan
that had reasonable legroom in back--fortunate for Jason, since Daddy really
needs to sit in front.

Finally on the road, we headed up to Queluz to visit the 18th century
Palacio Nacional do Queluz. It was crowded with bus tour groups and in
fairly bad shape, but it was still a lovely and interesting place. From
there we headed south again to the Estrada Marginal and drove right along
the water through the resort towns of Estoril and Cascais to the Boca do
Infierno, a grotto slammed by the waves of the Atlantic, even on a calm,
sunny day. Turning north, we stopped in Guincho for lunch overlooking the
beautiful beach. Mom and Jason were tired of fish bisque and opted for the
cream of asparagus instead, while Dad and I stuck with the bisque. That,
together with the extensive "cover" made a nice lunch.

Continuing on, we went out to the Cabo da Roca, continental Europe's
westernmost point, and took pictures of each other with the monument marking
the spot. Dad had to also have a picture of himself with the nearby
monument in honor of the 75th anniversary of the local Rotary Club. Leaving
there, we saw a sign for the Convento dos Capuchos, a small convent for
Capuchin monks, famous for being entirely lined in cork. The drive up and
around the mountain was beautiful, but we failed to find the convent.
Eventually we ended up back on the road through Colares and Penedo to Sintra
and found our hotel, the Quinta das Sequoias.

The quinta was an incredibly beautiful place. High up on one of the
mountains surrounding Sintra, on a twisty, narrow mountain road, it's a
renovated 19th century manor house, with a gorgeous view of Pena Palace on
top of the next hill. The house is filled with antique and modern
curiosities. The parents' room had single beds under a white lace canopy
hung from the ceiling. Our room had a sitting room area and then the
bedroom proper was out in the tower over the arch leading out to the
courtyard. There was a lovely little pool down by an orange grove. The
dining room had an oak-beamed ceiling. All the floors were terra cotta
tiles, polished with age.

We had a nap and a swim and then headed into Sintra for dinner. Navigating
the torturous cobbled streets, we made our way to Tacho Real ("The Royal
Pan"). We enjoyed the best smoked ham we'd encountered as part of the
cover. Jason and I had the fish soup again, followed by an exquisite
Chateaubriand for two, while Mom and Dad both had the escalopes of veal with
mushrooms in a cream sauce. We drove up to Sao Pedro de Sintra and then
back to our quinta. Our hosts mentioned that they don't recommend the Tacho
Real, because their guests have found it very inconsistent, but we were very
pleased with our meal.

Tuesday 29 May

After a lovely breakfast, we started our day in Sintra with a visit to the
Palacio Nacional in the center of town. It had a lot of steps, but Daddy
managed them in order to see the lovely rooms, including the chapel tiled
with doves (the symbol of the royal house as well as the Holy Spirit) and
the coat of arms room displaying on the ceiling the coats of arms of the
houses enobled following one of the many civil wars. From there we went up
the hill to the Castelo dos Mouros, a stronghold of the Moors captured by
the Christians in the 12th century. That was a lovely place, maintained
without being reconstructed, so that the sense of wandering through ruins is
maintained. Jason decided to climb up to the highest tower, while Mom and I
waited on a lower one, listening to a man playing a recorder in the
courtyard below, its plaintive tone enchanting amid the ruins.

We went on up to the next crest and toured the Pena Palace. Built in the
19th century by Fernando Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, the consort of the ruling queen,
it is a Moorish fairy tale castle, painted and tiled in bright colors with
bizarre columns and statues. Within the castle, the rooms are cluttered
with the furniture of that era. The "Arab Room" has some of the best trompe
l'oeuil painting I've seen.

After all that climbing we were ready for some lunch, so we went back down
into Sintra. Our guidebook led us to a little place up one of the winding
alleys of the town where Jason had a very tasty salmon steak, while I had a
plate of clams steamed in broth and the parents tried their meat pie, which
was like shepherd's pie, but with pork instead of lamb or beef.

We had a nap and then Mom came with Jason and I to explore the Monserrate
Gardens. Landscaped by Scottish gardeners at the behest of an English
gentleman, the gardens include cork trees and hundreds of different kinds of
ferns, as well as many other wonderful plants. Tucked into this jungle are
various features, including a ruined chapel being engulfed by a banyan tree
and a Moorish domed pavilion that is magical, even surrounded by scaffolding
as it was. We spent an hour there and then headed back to the quinta to
wake Daddy up for dinner.

That night we asked the hosts where they did recommend and they sent us out
to Colares Velho, in the town of Colares just up the road. It was a lovely
spot, very polished and American in some ways. Their "cover" consisted of
bread and butter and a basket of fresh vegetables with a couple of dips. I
started with their fish soup (can you tell I really enjoy the stuff?), while
Jason had a goat cheese salad and Dad tried their "Crazy Salad" that
included shrimp and peanuts. Mom had the very tasty duck, while Jason had
shrimp on a bed of red pepper mashed potatoes. Dad and I both took the
lamb, sliced very thin and covered with fried leeks. For dessert, Dad had
the "chocolate teardrop" which I believe consisted of chocolate mousse with
thick curls of bittersweet chocolate and whipped cream. Jason split the
"peach surprise" with me and it turned out to be two half peaches and two
scoops of vanilla ice cream, in a bed of honey, with meringues crumbled over
the whole thing.

Wednesday 30 May

We were sad to leave Quinta das Sequoias, but it was time to head north
again. We stopped in Mafra at the enormous monastery and palace complex
that occupied 50,000 workers and whose construction was such a major project
that it had a deliterious effect on the Portuguese economy in the early 18th
century. The complex included a royal summer palace, a basilica (the only
one in the world with six pipe organs--pieces were composed that could only
be performed there) and a monastery for 300 monks. The crowning feature of
the monastery is the library which contains 40,000 volumes of literary,
musical and cartographical works from the 16th, 17th and 18th centuries. It
is a marvel of natural technologies, including Brazilian wood shelves that
protect the books from cold and damp and a colony of bats that feed on
insects that might harm the books.

From Mafra we drove out to the coast at Ericeria, then in again to Torres
Vedras. We were starving by then and didn't want to take much time to eat
and since nothing else presented itself, we stopped at McDonald's. We
didn't visit the castle of Torres Vedras (part of a line of defensives used
by Wellington to stop the Napoleonic invasion of Portugal), but went on to
Peniche, where we stopped along the coast to admire the "bizarre rock
formations" and at their fortress, which also served as a prison during one
period.

In the late afternoon we arrived in Obidos and drove through the tricky gate
in the medieval walls which surround most of the town. We navigated the
narrow streets filled with tiny shops, before realizing that our inn was
just outside the main gate. We checked into the Albergaria Josefa d'Obidos,
named for the famous 17th century artist, one of the few renowned female
painters of the era. Although it seems quite old, the inn was actually
built only in 1983. It was reasonably comfortable and quite cheap, so it
made a good one night stand.

After a nap, Jason and I took Mom out for a walk and to check out the
various restaurants. We climbed up through the streets of the town and
through the walls on the western edge to admire the view, then down by the
modern amphitheater, where I got Jason to do his monologue from Richard II
for us. We walked back to the inn and got Dad and went to A Ilustre Casa
de Ramiro for dinner. All of us seemed to be somewhat off our feed. Jason
and Dad both had the tasty-but-thin gaspacho, while Mom and I stuck to the
cover, which included a lovely pate. She just had carrot soup as a main
course, while Dad and Jason had the pork slices in port wine sauce and I
had the "duck rice," a local specialty. It was tasty, but I was only able
to finish about half of it.

Thursday 31 May

I went for a walk before breakfast and then joined the others for one of
the least interesting breakfasts we'd had. After eating I ran back up into
town to get some stamps and mail the couple of postcards we'd actually
managed to write. The post office is in the same square as the Igreja
Sta. Maria, which contains some beautiful azulejos and some paintings by
Josefa, so I ducked in momentarily, just to take a look.

Once we got on the road, we headed for Alcobaca and toured the church and
monastery there. The nave is quite plain and the chapels are largely
undecorated, but the elaborately carved tombs with effigies of Pedro and
Inez are quite lovely. When he was crown prince, he fell in love with
Inez, a Castillian lady-in-waiting to his Castillian wife. After his wife
died, he took up with Inez and she lived in Coimbra and bore him children.
His father was concerned about her family's influence on Pedro and had Inez
killed. After he became king, Pedro punished her murderers, swore that
they had been secretly married (legitimizing her children) and buried her
in Alcobaca across the nave from his tomb. The two face each other, so
that they would be the first thing the other saw on Judgement Day and would
ascend to heaven facing each other. Dad waited in the nave while the rest
of us walked through the monastery, seeing the stepped Hall of Novices and
the tiled kitchen with its enormous chimney as we moved around the
cloister.

Our next stop was Batalha, where the convent and monastery were built to
commemorate the Portuguese victory over the Spanish at nearby Aljubarrota
in the 14th century. It is an incredibly elaborate and ornate Gothic
building and the monastery has not one but two complete cloisters. One
hall contains the tomb of the unknown soldiers of World War I, along with a
display of some of the plaques and memorials given in honor of the
soldiers. There's a "founder's chapel" with the tombs of John of Avis and
Philippa of Lancaster, daughter of John of Gaunt, whose marriage
established the alliance between England and Portugal that has lasted to
this day. Their effigies are holding hands. The chapel also includes the
tombs of their sons, one of whom was Prince Henry the Navigator. The
eastern end of the church has a section known as the Unfinished Chapels.
It is quite beautiful, though unroofed, and with a door so elaborately
carved that one of our guidebooks describes it as "every inch is exciting."

Leaving Batalha, we went on to Leiria. Wanting a quick and easy lunch, we
stopped at a mall on the way into town and had a pizza at Pizza Hut. Then
we went on up to the town's castle, which is left--like the Castelho dos
Mouros--in a fairly ruined state. Within the castle walls there is a
ruined chapel, a royal palace with a beautiful loggia overlooking the
valley, and the keep tower, which has been reconstructed with a series of
modern wooden platforms leading up via six flights of stairs to a new roof,
which offers lovely views of the rest of the castle--we could look down
into the roofless chapel where Mom was wandering around--and the valley.

It was getting late in the day, so we hurried on to Condeixa, where we
checked into the Pousada da Sta. Cristina, one of a series of
government-sponsored hotels in historic buildings. This one is in a
converted palace, so completely renovated that it doesn't have a great deal
of character left, but the rooms are large and have nice views. We napped
and went for a swim, then had dinner in the hotel dining room, which our
guidebooks agreed was one of the best restaurants in the area. I had the
fish soup, as usual, and this one was somewhat different than the others,
with cubes of fish instead of shrimp and a more grainy texture. Daddy had
cream of carrot soup and the others made do with the cover, which included
a sampler of sausages, baked with beans, and a light tuna salad with bell
peppers and onion. Mom and I both had the extremely tender roast kid with
turnip tops and potatoes that were very tasty in the juice from the meat.
Dad was overwhelmed by a huge portion of codfish served with shrimp and
mussels in a light sauce and surrounded by an enormous pile of mashed
potatoes. Jason had the roasted hen with pepper sauce that was succulent
and tangy. None of us could make room for dessert.

After dinner we gathered in our room to look at the pictures Jason had
downloaded from his digital camera to his laptop. It's especially nice
when Dad doesn't feel up to climbing around the monuments, that J. can take
pictures to show him immediately.

Friday 1 June

This was a difficult day. It started off well enough. We had breakfast at
the hotel, then drove to the nearby site of Conimbriga, the Roman city
founded in the first century BC and occupied until it was overrun by
barbarian hordes (first Swabians, then Visigoths) in the 6th century. The
ruins themselves are very impressive and Mom, Jason and I wandered over
them for an hour before rejoining Dad to look at the museum there. There
are many mosaic floors that are very beautiful and intricate.

From there we tried to go into Coimbra to see the cathedral and other
sites. Our maps were insufficient to cope with the changes in routes, due
to construction and we ended up circling around through heavy traffic for
quite a while. We drove through the university district and then tried to
get down into the main square via a tiny cobbled street. Somehow we ended
up the wrong way on a very steep hill and needed to turn around to get out
of the way of oncoming traffic. The combination of hurry and hill and
uneven terrain of the vacant lot I was manuevering in ended with my rolling
gently into the side of a parked car and being unable for several minutes
to get us out of there. Everyone piled out of the car--Mom and Dad were
very quiet and supportive and Jason was just happy I wasn't blaming him for
navigating me down there in the first place.

At that point, we were kind of turned off on Coimbra. We went over to the
New Convent of the Poor Claires, but it was closed for lunch until 2:30pm
and it was only one. So we decided to drive north and toward the coast and
see what we found. We drove through Curia and saw the fabulous 20's era
Palace Hotel in its lovely grounds and then up to Agueda and out to Aveiro,
where we stopped for a very strange pizza and some ice cream in what was
obviously a local student hangout. From there we cut back to the A1 and
drove quickly back to our hotel in Condeixa.

Daddy had been very tired and weak all day and none of us were feeling very
adventurous, so we had dinner in the hotel again. They gave us the sausage
and beans again, but the other cover dish was a chicken sausage instead of
the tuna. Mom and I had the daily special of a very nice beefsteak with
fried potatoes and broccoli, while Jason had the poached salmon in puff
pastry. Dad ordered the chicken salad with walnuts, but wasn't able to eat
any of it. He was breathing badly and looking very tired, so we headed to
bed quite early.

Saturday 2 June

We were up early, hoping to get to Fatima before the crowds got too bad.
We were able to park right near the basilica, at one of the stops on the
tourist trolley that takes you on a one-hour circuit of the important
sites. Dad was still feeling very weak and, by this point, light-headed
from lack of food, so we got on the jitney. Mom and Jason hopped off at
the second stop and went to see the basilica up close. They weren't able
to go inside, as there was some special service going on, but Jason got
some good pictures of the outside and of pilgrims approaching the sanctuary
on their knees. Meanwhile, Dad and I made the full circuit, around the
esplanade in front of the basilica and then out past the Stations of the
Cross pathway--thronged with pilgrims--and on to the hamlet nearby where
the three shepherd children lived and where they saw the Virgin Mary, past
the church where they were baptized and back around to where the car was
parked. We walked just inside the walls of the basilica complex, where Dad
could sit in the shade and listen to the music of the service. He felt up
to having an ice cream, so he ate that and by then Mom and Jason had
finished the rest of their circuit on the trolley and caught up with us.

We figured it was too early yet to check into our hotel for the night, so
we drove out to Tomar and visited the Convent of Christ, the home of the
Knights Templar after they left the Holy Land and were thrown out of
France. Henry the Navigator was their leader for a time and it was their
cross that emblazoned the sails of most of the ships in the Age of
Discovery. Their monastery was stunning. The sections open to the public
included their church, with a stunning oratory--a circle of arches two
stories high and filled with paintings--and the monastery itself, centered
around a series of maybe six cloisters, with long echoing hallways of cells
between them. In the most elaborate cloister, I found myself saying "just
look at all that *architecture*." I think it was the most impressive of
the monasteries we saw and we were very glad to have made the detour. Mom
and Dad found a shady spot near the car to sit. We got on a smaller road
out of Tomar than we had planned and ended up driving down the main streets
of a series of small towns. Just after crossing over the Tagus River on an
old, narrow, long, bumpy bridge, we stopped for a late lunch at O Cavaleiro
in Vale Cavalho. We had legume soup that was very tasty and a bizarre
selection of fried meats--chorizo, chicken livers in a spicy black paste,
something that seemed like a spiced meal in sausage casings, and another
sausage-like thing that was black with rice in it. From there we got back
to the A1 as quickly as possible and scooted down to Vila Franca de Xira to
find the Quinta do Alto.

That was an adventure in itself. We found the town easily enough, but the
hotel was in no way obvious. We finally located the "turismo" office,
which was closed, but helpfully had a map posted in the window. Jason
cleverly took a picture of the relevant section of the map with his digital
camera and was thereby able to get us to the quinta, way up a very narrow,
bumpy road to the crest of the hill overlooking the town. We got there and
drove into the main courtyard, but then couldn't find any way to check in.
There were a number of closed doors with keys in them. One led into what
was obviously a private home, another into the unstaffed front desk of a
long hallway of rooms, another into the banquet hall in which a wedding
reception was taking place. Jason went in there and finally a woman
emerged to check us in. The rooms were physically nice enough--large, with
brick vaulted ceilings and large bathrooms (with no shower curtains) and
terraces out into the courtyard. But the sheets and pillows were damp and
musty as if they hadn't been changed in months, the rooms needed a good
airing, and in our room there was an ashtray with cigarette butts in it
sitting on the dresser. We weighed the relative merits of putting up with
it or trying to find somewhere else for the night and decided to stay put.
We opened the terrace doors and put the pillows outside in the sun. Mom
and Dad settled in for a nap while Jason and I went off to find the pool.
That was lovely, tucked under the main courtyard, very modern and new and
incredibly refreshing on a day that must have been well above 90F. Overall
the place seems as though it would be a nice place to stay if they were
putting any effort into it. Somehow, despite the brick, the walls were
paper thin and we could hear every movement up and down the hall and any
loud voices or TVs on in the other rooms. It seemed as if the rest of the
guests were associated with the wedding, whose music went on until very
late.

After a swim and a nap, we set off to find some dinner. After another
harrowing trip down even more narrow, confusing, cobbled streets, we found
a good place in the bullfighting ring. Mom was stuffed from lunch and just
had a plate of smoked ham and melon that was very tasty, light and fresh.
Dad tried the prawn cocktail, but the shrimp were dry, the sauce was too
sweet and after a few bites, he was sick. Jason had a very nice plate of
fried calamari with mashed potatoes that he thought had nutmeg in them. My
"tournedo a la Prince of Wales" was a thick slice of beef on a piece of
crusty toast, with a garlic butter sauce and an egg on top. I discarded
the egg, but the rest was quite tasty. We finished up quickly and tried
again to find the route Jason thought he discerned on the map that would
take us back up to the hotel more directly. Instead we ended up forced
back onto the A1 and went back to the exit we'd originally taken to find
the town and took our original route back up the hill, only to find the
gates to the hotel locked. We rang and they were opened for us. Jason and
I dropped the parents off and headed back out to try once more to find the
more direct, wider route between the quinta and the A1, but after trying
out all the available forks, the most promising route was still longer and
at least as difficult as the one we knew already, so we gave up and came
back. Of course, they'd locked the gates again after us, so Jason rang and
rang until someone came to open them again.

Sunday 3 June

We had breakfast and were out of the quinta just after 8:30am. We got gas
and made it to the airport by 9:30. Jason returned the rental car while I
got a wheelchair for Dad and then we went out to the gate. Mom stayed with
Dad while Jason and I went back out into the duty free area (this involved
going back through passport control, which was kind of weird) and found a
laptop backpack for Jason. Our flight was smooth and easy and there was a
guy waiting with a wheelchair at the door of the plane. He whisked us
through immigration and baggage claim and out the door to the rental car bus
more quickly than I've ever managed to make it through Heathrow. We picked
up a new car, after a brief delay over their trying to give us too small a
car. We took a different route home and made it in just over an hour--and
then got turned around in a maze of one-way streets trying to go around the
block behind our house. But finally we made it home. Getting up the stairs
into our flat really took it out of Dad. He rested on the couch for a
couple of hours and ate a little of the Chinese food we ordered and then
felt strong enough to go upstairs for the night. I talked to steve and
Barbara and my sisters and read all my email and eventually got to sleep.

Monday 4 June

I got up early and called the clinic where we're registered at 8:00am when
their switchboard opens. They said one of their doctors had cancelled and
I'd have to call back at ten. Glen showed up and hung out with us for a few
hours, during his layover between Boston and a conference in France. I
called back at ten and they tried to tell me I'd have to call back at
2:30pm. I explained that I'd already been put off once and my father had to
see a doctor today and they should either tell me when to bring him in or
that they would not be able to see him and they told me to bring him at
11am. So I took the folks up to the clinic and Jason hung out with Glen
until he had to leave for his plane. We waited about forty-five minutes to
see a doctor, who examined Dad and decided he needed chest xrays and an ECG
to determine the situation. So she sent us over to Homerton Hospital. With
the magic words "shortness of breath" we were whisked right into an
examining room where they did the tests the doctor had recommended and got
him on some oxygen. Our very nice doctor (everyone was extremely nice,
without the brusque manner that seems to be part of the US medical culture)
looked at the results and decided that Dad's problem is mostly some kind of
infection (he has chronic fluid in his lungs because of his heart problems
and that makes him vulnerable to infections there). So they admitted him
and started him on antibiotics and medications to try and zap the fluid.
Just from the oxygen, he was doing much better after an hour and we left him
settled into the ward for the night. We came home and made a round of
update calls and talked to Dad's HMO to get authorization for the emergency
room visit and ordered a pizza. We showed Mom some pictures of Jason when
he was younger and then we watched an old episode of Buffy while she read
the RHS' magazine and went to sleep early.

So it's been a wacky, wonderful, complicated couple of weeks. We're very
glad to be home and to have Dad getting the care that he needs.