YDYtravelers: Walking uphill results in buying a Portuguese sweat towel, glove shopping, and gazpacho again!

Today I walked uphill for eight hours straight. Well maybe not eight but for a long time. For those unaware, Lisbon is very hilly, which, fittingly, is why it’s called the city of seven hills. These are really, really long steep hills. I think the initiation into this city happens when you climb one of those hills. Jen and I began our day with this ceremonial ascension. Mom was sick overnight with a tummy thing and was not up for the adventure and both kids also voted out. So a sister stroll was in order. It wasn’t super hot, but the exertion of hill climbing and the humidity caused me to become a sweat factory. Jen had no such problem, so I leaked alone. Which was fine, until I realized that I’d have to enter our destination looking like I’d recently been swimming. I kept commenting to Jenny that I wished I had a towel or something to help with this unfortunate problem and a few minutes later we turned a corner and discovered a shop selling towels! I chose a lovely dish towel that for the rest of the day hung out of my pocket. I think it’s a great idea to have one of these in Lisbon, so coming to market in the near future will be the Portuguese Sweat Towel (TM).

Oh, where were we going? Our destination was the Mercado de Campo de Ourique, one of the best food markets in Lisbon. Good thing, too because I was pretty hungry after all that uphilling. This market is small and not overrun with tourists like the famous Time Out market here in town. It had many stalls, but the one I fell in love with was the tea, spices, jams and nuts place called Fructos Secos. I purchased five different teas (spoiler alert Alex - you have some tea coming your way), one of which was a green tea grown here in Portugal. It has a different taste than trational green tea because it was grown in volcanic soil near the sea, infusing these elements into it. Then I added some pine nuts that were from southern Portugal, which the Portuguese call white gold due to their rarity. Popping corn and two jams were added. And then four different kinds of nuts rounded out the assortment. It was truly a bounty of goodness, and all for the low, low price of 50 Euro. Seriously. That’s low. In the states that would get me, maybe two teas at Teavana. We had lunch at the market from the food stalls. I ate an excellent dish that was comprised of soft boiled eggs, tomatoes, peppers, and feta. And Jen had an egg and sausage scramble and fries with a garlic dipping sauce. Hunger satiated, we finished our shop with a trip to the green grocers and then the tinned fish stall. These fish are apparently delicious (wouldn’t know since I’m a vegetarian), but (again, cover your ears ((eyes??)) Alex) I did pick some up for a certain someone in the states. Post market, Jen took me to the Pastiche de Nata place that she visited on her food tour, where we had some of those golden goodies along with espresso. Our final stop was at the Best Chocolate Cake in the World shop, for, you know, one of those. Some folks may remember that we ate one of them at the dinner table last night. We did. We wanted more. Ubering home was the sensible next step, so that’s exactly what we did.

The afternoon unfolded with a dab of family drama followed by the inevitable making up and going for boba tea. Mom still wasn’t at her best (perhaps her body was protesting after the extraordinary hiking yesterday?) so Jen, Eli, George and I went out for more exploring. And it was a gooood time. Many of Lisbon’s streets are created with black and white cobblestones, arranged in beautiful patterns. It’s a pretty spectacular sight. Portugal is so aesthetically pleasing and for that, I adore it. We saw many new, incredible streets on our evening walk. And as we toured, odd and incredible shops appeared on every block. There was a rare coin shop that Eliza loved because of the many coins with birds on them. And we also toured one that we called the Japanese IKEA, because although small, it carried all kinds of practical products from Japan. Fascinating and functional. Then, Jen spotted the glove shop. This was not ordinary shop for all kinds of reasons. First, it was tiny, having the capacity for one, or maybe two folks in it at a time. Then, it was beautiful, all adorned with red and gold ornamental design. And three, the gloves were stunning. So we waited for Jen to have a turn. She was taken care of by the proprietor, who placed her elbow on a round padded pillow, made especially for the elbows of glove-tryer-oners. Then she looked at Jen’s hand and could immediately tell what size she was. Impressive. A box was taken out of this long narrow hallway that went back into the shop. George pointed out that it reminded him very much of Olivander’s wand ship in Happy Potter. So true! So the gloves were extracted and then “opened” by the lady with this tool that looked like a large wooden tweezer thing. She stuck it in every finger of the glove and popped them open. And then finally, the glove was placed on the waiting hand. And they fit, well, like a glove. I did have to say, out loud, to no one “if the glove doesn’t fit, you must acquit!” Finally the newly purchased gloves were placed in a satiny bag, which was then placed in a fancy shopping bag, and then given to Jenny. All of this was fascinating and very very fun to watch.

Later, we found a bookstore. What we thought was one room of books, but then turned into four or five, going farther and farther back into the building. It seems like a lot of Lisbon’s shops are like this, creating the illusion of a small shop and then surprising visitors with their vastness (except for that tiny glove shop). We each found books that we needed to have. Eliza, in particular, was over the moon with her new field guide to Portuguese and other European birds, written in Portuguese. She spent all of her time waiting for dinner with her eyes affixed to birds of the Portuguese flavor. We found out when leaving the store that it is the oldest continuously operating book store in the world, open since around 1750. Dang.

Dinner! Immediately we needed it. George and Eli were fading fast and Jen and I needed respite. We went to the first place we saw that looked like it could feed us and lucked out big time. The waiter was very generous and allowed us to sit in the back room. The kids needed some space from crowds and noise, so being alone back there was everything. Also, he helped us with the pronunciation of a type of Portuguese bird. By helped, I mean that he said the word several times. None of us could say it back, though. Portuguese is a really tough language to speak. He also told us to be careful saying the name of the bird, because if was very close to another word that was a homosexual slur. So I think we’re better off not trying. All of us except George had soup for dinner and oh my gazpacho, it was good. Jen learned on her food tour that the Portuguese love soup. That’s gotta be true, given the delights of the evening. Onion in the French style for Jen, a chicken soup with mint flavors for Eli, and, of course, gazpacho for me - they were just the ticket we needed to recharge. And George? He sat in his corner chair looking very sophisticated with his small European cup of coffee, which accompanied his eggs, sausage, and fresh lemon juice (no sugar - just the lemon and water - he said it was perfect).

Just when we thought we were finally heading for home, we spotted another book store, this one of the used variety. A used bookstore in Europe has books that are OLD. The four of us were sucked in, and stayed there well past our bedtimes. I adored the ancient Baedekers, all written in Portuguese, of far off places such as London and France. I wanted one quite badly, but they were 80 Euro. So no. I did pick up a lovely print of two cats in a tree (shout out to Oliver and Jude!) and a few old pictures. And after being released from book nirvana, we found gelato at another shop that has been around for many years. Flavors were amazing (I had sweet egg and pine nut and coffee). Decor also top notch. And then, after one more shop, where Jen purchased a sleep mask that looked like a miniature bra, we trekked home. Mom was not too pleased with us, since we stayed out so late and didn’t call to let her know we were okay. You never stop being a mom, that’s for sure, and I felt a bit like an irresponsibile teenager for a fleeting minute, which was kind of nice, actually. Thanks mom!