Lisbon, Amiga

Today around 5:30, we slipped into bar to watch one of Lisbon’s soccer teams play Spartak Moscow in a Champions League game.  It wasn’t crowded.  There were a few grown men moaning and smoking.  One had a dog named “Amiga” on his lap.  There were some young Dutch guys on a computer.  We couldn’t blame them. The wi-fi was really fast.  And there were Halloween decorations.  During halftime, the young African guy tending bar walked around to the tables and gave everyone red plastic Super Bock (one of the yellow beers they serve here) change purses.  The kind 3rd graders carry.  Lisbon is great.

Part Paris grandeur but with San Francisco hills and a little more flavor than both (Mediterranean but a little more flavorful than that, maybe South American even) comes sorta close to describing it.

There’s a castle that’s been there since the Iron Age that overlooks the city down to the river and out to the Atlantic.

Portugal was pretty flush in its glory days in the 14 and 1500s when they “discovered” India and Brazil and established trading posts in China and Japan.  This monastery (Monisterioo Zheronimoesh) is particularly sick.

And there’s a great tower in the harbor they filled with cannons and political prisoners.

Thanks to those colonial efforts and subsequent ones in Africa, Lisbon has a lot of offer in terms of cuisine. All this to say, we’ve been eating a lot of Indian food since we got here.  Dave and Kellie have been washing it down with cherry brandy they serve from storefront windows.  Apparently, that’s a thing that happens here.

There are custard tarts, of course. And bakeries.  And, at least, one remarkable ice cream shop.  Hey, Jon, how many days we got left?

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