I was out early and decided to trek up to Castelo de Sao Jorge. It resides up in the hills and the structure is visible from almost anywhere in the city. On the way up, I encountered the cathedral, Se. It’s the oldest church in Lisboa, constructed in the early 12th century. Service was in session when I entered. Good to see they were still getting use out of the place. The vaulted ceilings were a good four stories high, maybe more. The place felt absolutely cavernous inside.
I continued on up the hill towards the castle. The neighborhood was very full of interesting architectural details. Almost every apartment had some kind of distinct tile work. There wasn’t a modern building in sight. That’s not a criticism. The castle itself felt more like a fort. It wasn’t small, but there really wasn’t an inside to explore. You could just wander the courtyard and along the walls. The views were expansive, allowing you to take in almost the entire city all the way down to the shore.
The next destination, Igreja da Madre de Deus, was about a mile and a half from the castle. I figured I’d walk the doggies. I find the best way to really learn a place is to walk it. There was no subway stop that would have gotten me closer which was fine. I wanted to actually see as much of the country as possible. The weather was growing increasingly ominous with gray clouds rolling on the horizon. I hoped it wouldn’t be too bad since the weather had been fairly mild up until then.
I wish the guidebook had been more clear on the fact that the church was connected to the Museu Nacional do Azulejo. I walked past the place like three times. The museum didn’t sound too enticing as it is the National Tile Museum. A museum dedicated to the subject makes sense considering how integral tile-making is in Portuguese architecture. I finally figured out the museum’s relationship to the church after a frustrating detour through what looked like a rougher section of town. The tile museum turned out to be interesting in its own right. There are still artists who utilize the medium which I'd never really thought about before. Still the main attraction was the church with its elaborately gilded walls and altars. The decor makes the tastes of an Arab oil sheik seem restrained in contrast.
Rain began to fall steadily by the time I finished exploring the church. I would have ventured out to another well-known site, Mosteiro dos Jeronimos, but visibility had diminished greatly and the light was far from ideal for picture taking. So instead I let things subside and headed over to Bairra Alto again to find dinner. This time wandering up a narrow back alley. An older Portuguese woman, the sleeves of her shirt rolled up, smoking a cigarette motioned for me to come inside her restaurant. “Real Portuguese food, right here. Come in.” I’m always a sucker for salesmanship. Don't make me feel like you're doing me a favor allowing me to eat in your establishment. First rule of any good restauranteur, I believe.
The place was quaint. Felt like a place the locals actually ate at. I had a skewer of cuttlefish, octopus and shrimp. It was excellent. I can’t remember when I last had cuttlefish. It’s not a common dish on the NY restaurant scene, at least I don’t think so. It seemed like something very authentic. Plus I felt good to be eating responsibly. Nothing endangered on my plate.
The rain continued unabated so I retired back to the hotel. Felt like I got a lot out of the day.
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