YDYtravelers: Some of us go on a cultural food tour and others get weird

Mom and Jen were up early, headed to a tour of Lisbon’s markets and food shops. The rest of us were either sleeping or lolling around in pajamas (hand raised). Apparently, the food tour was spectacular. I saw pictures and can confirm that the food looked delicious (except for the meaty and fishy things that as a vegetarian, were not my favorite). They also brought back the best pastiche de nata (the ever so good Portuguese famed pastry) that were better by far than the rest we’ve tried. Food day equals success.

George, Eliza and I hung around the house for quite a bit and then decided to tour our neighborhood and grab coffee. First thing, we conquered the long staircase (one of two) right by the apartment. Up top there were some interesting buildings and a hospital. We heard, what we thought at first was singing. But it became apparent that the noise was actually wailing from inside the grounds of the hospital. So incredibly sad and also sort of beautiful. Back down to our street was our next step, removing ourselves from the crying and instead focusing on coffee. Shortly, we found a bakery that sold pastiche and other delights. We ate and drank good coffee, after the assistance of an English-speaking employee helped us navigate the complexities of ordering. Portuguese is one tough language, with lots of sounds that almost sound Slavic. It’s not, but it sounds that way (as Phil would say, for those of you who know Phil). It’s very hard to pick up, so any help from the locals is appreciated.

Post coffee, our plan was to head to the Chinese market below the apartment. Before we got there, though, we discovered a Chinese-run shop that specialized in, well, imported cheap goods. It was not apparent when we walked in to the place, but upon exploration, we discovered that the shop was vast, continuing back farther and farther, until you couldn’t see the street anymore. Then, there was an upstairs section, with other goodies. We found wallets, nail clippers, stickers (or sticekrs, see picture below), back packs, fake nails, animal onesies (see below) and more. I thought there was a rice cooker for sale. It was sitting on top of some of the merchandise. Then I popped it open and there was rice cooking in it! Hope I didn’t ruin anyone’s lunch. Then, upstairs, I saw it. The wall of wigs called to me, and one in particular beckoned me. So I bought it. This is when the weirdness began to ramp up. We purchased a few other things from the shop and then headed to the Chinese grocery. There, G and E filled our basket with new and interesting candies and oddities. We also bought milk and bread and eggs, so not all strange. Then, we went back to the apartment and waited for Jen and Mom to return. I wore the wig.

It took a beat after Jen opened the door and Mom walked in for them to realize that I had decided to do something different with my hair. Mom thought that I had let my hair down, but no, I didn’t have any to do so. Then they got it and the wig was very much worth the Euros spent on it. Of course everyone had to try it on and pictures were taken. And then we took a field trip back to the store for more fascinating shopping. I, of course, wore my new wig. George is now the proud owner of a giraffe onesie. Eliza has a new crane backpack. I have press on nails of the gold variety, And mom can now clip her nails with a Van Gogh nail-clipping set. To top of our trip, we headed down the street to get some boba tea. Boba. Tastes great.

We had another one of those dinners, with a bunch of fresh food, cheeses from the market tour and from Amsterdam, bread and olive oil, and yeah, some left over pizza. Again, the highlight of the meal was the pastiche. Extraordinary. After dinner we tried Portugal’s signature liqueur, the very tasty sipping drink Ginja. It’s made with sour cherries, cinnamon and sugar. And it’s sooo good. It’s a bit ridiculous how decadent our trip is becoming, with the wine and the cheese and the nail clippers. We need to stop it. Or not. Only time will tell