Portugal 2009 - Day 1

It’s the early hours of Monday June 1^st and we’re off on a three day city break to Lisbon followed by seven days on the coast at Estoril. The flights and hotels are booked and we’re going to make our own way in Portugal using their apparently excellent and cheap public transport. On the way to Heathrow we managed to miss the turning to ‘Long Term Parking’ three times so it doesn’t bode too well for finding our way around Portugal does it?

We arrived at Lisbon airport and found the right bus to take us to the city centre and our hotel but there were a lot of people seemingly doing the same as us. We clambered on board with our cases and Pauline immediately spotted a couple of seats right at the back of the bus and while I struggled to put the cases on one of the luggage racks at the front of the bus she rushed to the back to get the seats. It didn’t help that all the time I was case struggling there was a constant stream of people boarding and packing out the bus – standing room only. By the time I reached Pauline at the back I was already hot, bothered and bewildered and it was only about one hour into the holiday.

“Do we know where to get off?” I said.

“Of course, I’ve got the instructions here, it has all the stops on the route,” said Pauline.

The bus had a small overhead display screen that showed the stops and there was a pre-recorded announcement in Portuguese telling us the stop as well. I couldn’t really understand the announcement and I couldn’t read the display so a fat lot of good that all was. I relied on Pauline to dig me in the ribs when it was our stop which brought to an end me constantly asking her if we were there yet and was she sure she knew when our stop would appear. As the bus progressed it got more and more crowded with luggage being stacked in the racks on top of ours. I noticed that you had to get off the bus from the door at the back and when it was our stop I had to struggle down the length of the bus to get the cases and then fight my way through to the back again to get off. All this time there was a constant stream of people with luggage moving up and down, some getting on from the front, others getting off at the back, with me in the middle chucking cases in the air in an attempt to find ours before rushing to the open doors at the back before they closed and we drove off again.

Nobody said “Let me help you” and nobody got out of the way when they saw me careering towards them with two out of control suitcases until I’d bashed into them a few times and only then did they make the smallest of movements to let me pass. I got off the bus even more hot, bothered and bewildered than I was at the beginning.

Luckily the hotel was only a couple of streets away from the bus stop and right in the centre of things so at least we didn’t have far to walk.

After checking in we took a tram to the Alfama district. This is the oldest area in Lisbon and is situated at the top of a steep hill. Taking the tram up there and walking down seemed like an excellent idea. Alfama is a collection of ancient homes, squares and narrow cobbled streets topped off by the Castle of St. George, surrounded by a dry moat and with far-reaching views of the city below.