Yesterday morning we packed up again and set out to meet the airport shuttle. When we got to the lobby the area was full of men dressed in long black wool coats. They all had the same hair color and cut; the same black suit with tie and were all of equal height (about 6'2") and they were roughly the same age--there were about 30 of them. There were also men with cameras, tripods and microphones. Our shuttle was delayed and we were a little concerned. The concierge said that the Turkish President was arriving and that the shuttle might not be able to make its way through security and traffic. I stepped out of our hotel and saw an entire block lined with security vehicles, news vans and police. We were staying within feet of Dam Square. When the word was given--the earpieces went in and the men moved in a very coordinated way. We had no idea that within minutes the Turkish president would be meeting the Dutch queen on Dam Square to place a wreath. Later we read the details in the paper.
We got on the shuttle and an old man who resembled an aging Lurch began to yell at us and a couple of Italian tourists. It seems we needed to purchase our tickets in advance, despite contrary instructions from the concierge. He allowed us to purchase on the spot in cash as he loudly admonished us--it would have been humiliating if it weren't so surreal and funny. He drove like a maniac! It was a relief getting on the airplane.
We were warned to take caution when ordering a cab--get a price quote first and ask for a receipt and have knowledge of what the customary charge is before getting into the car. I fumbled around with Portuguese until we got a decent quote and for good measure Joel and I spoke to each other in a combined Spanish French lingo in order to avoid speaking in English. We arrived at our sweet apartment after calling Ilda--who does not speak a lick of English. We have a two bedroom apartment that is three blocks from the Rio Tejo and the Praca do Comercio. The apartment is totally outfitted with a modern kitchen and bathroom, internet, etc.--much like our apartment in Valencia. This kind of accommodation is always so much better than staying in a hotel. We are walking distance to all of the main squares, markets, restaurants and transportation (trams, metro, buses).
The first thing we did was to unload our gear and set out for the center of the old town--Rossio. Lively at day's end with every nationality represented. The streets are all granite and marble mosaic squares--each piece measuring 2 inches square--mostly in black and ivory color with elaborate designs. They are extremely uneven, often rising up an inch or two in an undulating pattern. Unlike Spain, nobody would dare wear a pair of heels. Sensible shoes are a must or you risk an ankle sprain. We made our way to the "supermercado" and surprisingly it was like a large convenience store. The produce was spare and unappetizing. Police are
in the markets because desperate people are doing desperate things.
After unloading the groceries we walked at sunset to the water's edge. Some people were waiting for the ferry, others staring into the water or at the horizon. The tone was serious--maybe even a little sad. We wandered until our feet could take no more with the unforgiving hardness of the sidewalks.
Today we are going to catch a train to Sintra. Much love, Linda and Joel
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