Climb to Castelo São Jorge

Spent eight hours pretty much afoot in greater metropolitan Lisbon today. Learning, learning, learning.

First thing we did was head back to a local bookstore we discovered yesterday to buy a couple of English-language titles . . . didn't find fiction, but did find interesting stuff about Lisbon. I finished my last English-language fiction yesterday, and I'm climbing the metaphoric walls for diversion. (Manda Scott's -The Crystal Skull- is a collar-grabbing page-turner that takes a corkscrew twist at the end. It also pinpointed a site I have been trying to locate in England. That contributes to it's being a good read.)

We had an early lunch . . . like 11:30. I like the way the confeitera wrapped Kathryn's leftover spinach quiche. Because it was raining like the proverbial cow on the proverbial rock, we kept walking to a Metro stop we hadn't seen before, and I got some new subway art. And in Praça do Carlos IV I snagged some more urban art. This town is so abundant. 

A Roman soldier's armor in a shop window caught our eye, but it was a wrist watch repair shop, and the "armor" turned out to be . . . well, "kinky" comes to mind.

Today's two goals were specifically to find the elevator that goes from Rua Madalena to the Castelo atop the hill. We had to circle the (very long) block before we found the first part, then cross the street, angle uphill about fifty yards, and wend behind a church to find the second part, but we found it. People were quietly lined up waiting to get aboard. it was something.

Getting to the top of the hill was only the beginning. It wasn't really the top, more of the military crest, actually. That's a technical term, and it felt like we had conquered Everest without having to deal with the snow or hire Sherpas to get us there. I really am going to have to get a clinometer. And warfare in the Middle Ages was a cast iron bitch kitty . . . having to climb these hills and THEN you have to fight the guys inside and atop the walls. Without explosives or mechanical transport.

On the way up and/or down we had to dodge the regularly scheduled buses. They have about five feet of clearance on either side of their wheelbase. Except for the corners. Big Sally and I would not EVEN attempt this. Ever.

On the way back to the center of town we found "A Arte de Terra" on one of the main roads parallel to the bay. This is, I think, a city or nationally-sponsored art gallery featuring the high-end works of some of the best contemporary artists in Lisbon. They also had touristy gewgaws, but the actual worthwhile stuff was mind-boggling and infinitely refreshing. I wanted to buy a couple of dozen pieces, from a ceramic lionfish in three dimensions to mount on your palace wall to a display of HO-gauge wooden cars and trucks from slivers of (I think) balsa with even their under-sides detailed. They were spectacular. The floor was cobbled unevenly; the roof was quadripartite groin vaulted; some of the displays were set in concave concrete structures ranged along one wall. I waited patiently to ask the original purpose of the building, thinking it might have been a warehouse for a winery . . . it was originally the stables for the cathedral. No photos allowed inside. But the underside of my skull is very happy.

More subway art, and home at eight of the clock.

Oh, yeah, there was at least one cruise liner, maybe a second - we couldn't see all the harbor - and the lower end of town was positively awash with those pesky tourists.

But Life Is So Very Good.

190419 photos will follow