YDYtravelers: The doll hospital is bonkers, underwater world, Fado gets good, and Mom wins May I

Another morning in Lisbon. How lucky are we. The gang sipped coffee and ate various breakfast foods while contemplating what the day could bring. Jen and Eliza decided pretty quickly that they wanted get aquatic at Lisbon’s aquarium, called Oceanario de Lisboa. There they found some pretty spectacular marine sculptures made entirely with fish hooks. And, Eliza was able to snap pictures of sea creatures from little blue neon tetras to giant oceanic sun fish. Those are weird as hell, by the way. The gift shop was amazing, stocked entirely with sustainable products. Gifts for some of the folks we’ll see in Paris were purchased along with a few goodies to bring home.

Meanwhile, George decided to stay in for the afternoon while Mom and I opted for a stroll around the neighborhood with the eventual goal of ending up at The Doll Hospital. The streets were packed with locals and tourists today and the weather was quite humid. First on the agenda was lunch, which we ate at a pretty sub-par tourist spot that specialized in Italian food. I know, I know, I’m in Lisbon and should be eating at the local Portuguese restaurants. But were were hungry and pretty irritated with the strike outs from our list of Trip Advisor spots near us (not open for lunch! No tables anywhere, actually 1.5 miles away??!!). So we found the nearest restaurant and that was that. I had decent gnocchi and Mom first was served the wrong meal (which had happened to the folks next to us too) and then had a platter of very undercooked spaghetti carbonara delivered to the table. We were on a mission with a timeline, so Mom chose to eat the dish instead of sending it back for a second time. She’s very al dente now.

Post lunch, we decided to check out a church nearby. It looked a bit ordinary on the outside (for European churches — it was quite a bit nicer than most churches and cathedrals in America). Inside The Church of Sao Domingos, we were blown away by the beauty of the building and its ancient-looking columns and walls. We learned that the church had been through several disasters over the centuries, including the famous earthquake of 1755 (that destroyed a vast part of Lisbon), and a huge fire in 1959, which gutted most of the building. Over the years, the Portuguese worked on restoration, which was completed in the mid 1990s. And now, the new parts, mostly made of red granite, create a beautiful contrast with the ancient walls that show the history of the church, with cracks and soot covering the walls. It was just lovely.

After several more distractions, including another used bookstore, Mom and I arrived at The Doll Hospital. It occupies a tiny space on one of the main streets in Lisbon, and one could miss it easily when walking by (we did and Mom had even seen it earlier that day). The room facing the street is a shop, filled with miniatures and dolls crafted by the shop itself. Hospital de Bonecas, as it’s called in Portuguese, has hidden secrets, though, up a flight of stairs and through a set of double doors. The hospital itself and a museum with over 4,000 dolls are on the other side. We first toured the hospital portion of the building. People send The Doll Hospital their broken and maimed dolls from all over the world. We were able to see the dolls that had newly arrived as well as some that had been repaired and were ready to be sent back to owners. Then, our tour guide took us into the “operating theater”, where the repairs to the dolls are completed. A very creepy-looking doll was on the table, with half of its face completely gone. Around the room were instruments to help the doll surgeons complete repairs as well as many spare doll parts waiting to be placed into a new doll. After this room, we were treated to a viewing of the room of doll supplies, where drawer after drawer were filled with eyeballs, limbs, faces, and other assorted doll parts. This was a photographer’s dream and we both took advantage of the opportunity. Our tour guide popped out one box filled with weighted doll eyeballs that all opened and closed in unison. That’s some crazy shit right there.

The rest of the rooms, of which there were 4 or 5, was the museum for the doll hospital. It houses one of the largest doll collections in the world, with specimens from many different cultures. Many of these dolls were also eerie to look at, which was just what the doctor ordered. Creepy dolls, antique dolls, Cabbage Patch Kids, Papier-mâché dolls, and any other doll you can think of were represented. I don’t think writing any more about The Doll Hospital will help paint a better picture. You’ll just have to look at the photos for the truth, if you can handle it.

We spent so much time at The Doll Hospital that when we emerged we immediately had to book it to our next adventure, Fado music and tapas at the Adega Machado. We grabbed George and Ubered over to the venue while Jen and Eliza did the same, coming from the aquarium. Both of us were dropped a few blocks away by our Uber drivers and were late as a result. Must be a weird Uber location glitch. It was worth the mad dash though, because real Fado, the good stuff, the Fado sung by the best in the city, was just magic. Sure, we’d heard Fado out our window in Tavira, but it was not even close to the experience we had this evening. There was one male and one female singer that took turns, accompanied by both a Portuguese guitar and a classical guitar. At the end, both singers joined together for a finale. The music was sorrowful at times, coquettish at others, and always mesmerizing. And we all (Except the very smart Eliza) drank glasses of wine during the performance. Tapas consisted of bread, a yummy but unidentified cheese, prosciutto, and these delicious olives, marinated in some kind of garlic sauce. So yeah, all of that was a pretty excellent way to round out our day. Post Fado, Mom and Jen took a walk in the streets (well on the sidewalks mostly - they’re sensible) and I took both sixteen-year-olds for gelato and a quick jaunt home.

When everyone was safely home, we broke out three decks of cards to play our first game of May I on the trip. Mom won. We all sulked. I’m not sure if most know what this game is, but anyone who knew the famous Grace Kelly Bougere can play a hand or two or 20. Grandma, as I called the amazing Grace, was a card shark and the matriarch of the table during cards. And tonight, Mom told us stories about both Grandma and Grandpa (who died when I was four years old), including the unbelievable one about how Grandma is forever crooked in her final resting place due to an error in the size of her urn and the smallishness of its resting spot. Her handmade box was a bit too large for the space, so in order to make it fit, she went in a bit sideways. If you knew Grandma Grace, you’d feel like that was fitting and that she’d be smirking a bit at the conundrum. She was our north star and we think of her every time we get the cards out to play May I, our family game, her game. Love you Grandma.