Seven February Days in Lisboa 2020 – Day 2

Yonda lies da castle of my fadda

Today was Castelo de Sao Jorge Day, eventually. Marg had something resembling breakfast then we climbed down the flights of stairs to the outside world. Before castle business Hector had to find lunch, Curry is always a priority and expectations in Portugal are high.

Google Maps took us across to the eastern side of the downtown area where there is a cluster of Curry Houses. Fortunately this would also be on the slope up to the castle. Taste of Pakistan or Taste of Punjab? Google said the latter was closed today, Taste of Pakistan it would be.

I’ve been to some backstreet venues, just as well it was daylight. Hector chose well, the food was outstanding. A high standard had been set. Afterwards we chanced upon Taste of Punjab a few metres away, it was open. I assured Mein Host we would return tomorrow.

It was a case of up and more up thereafter. We passed a small restaurant that had local cuisine, one for the future possibly. The joy of at least posting the photo means I’ll find it again, as I’ll know what what I’m looking for, no name necessary. Noting the name may have been simpler.

The narrow streets were reminiscent of Italia, Hellas. The muriels (sic) showing former residents from a time past were evocative – The Immortals. Marg disappeared into a shop, I enjoyed the warmth, 17ºC and rising, in February, magic.

Rather than go straight into the castle I led Marg beyond, I had already sensed that there was more to this hilltop, a Citadel. School kids were out in a playground, we heard them, but never saw them. Cafe 28, we had already aware of this tram, it passes our accommodation, later.

At the castle entrance, Marg tried to get Hector a discount for being a Senior Citizen, I had to point out that I’m not that old, yet. Have I mentioned that Marg retires this summer?

The castle was one of the finest I have ever visited. As with the ancient Egyptian and more recent Arab Medina, it was like peeling layers from an onion, there was yet another bit to explore inside, wonderful. Some of the climbs tested Hector’s intolerance of heights, why this Doris had to sit way out there, aaagh.

The views to the horizon were hazy, not great photography. Praco do Comercio was where we stood yesterday looking up to this very spot.

Encounters with animals make Marg’s day. The peacocks in the trees and the poseur on the ground made this all the more memorable.

We had worked up a thirst, this is when the earlier reconnaissance came into its own. Cafe 28, set up like tram interior. OK, maybe not as authentic as Prvni Pivni Tramway (Praha) but a novelty. We had ice cream too, well, we’re on holiday.

An elevator took us back to to the main drag. On Praca da Figuera, which appears to act as a bus terminus, the covered market was studied, IPA, not today, one for the future. A statue, Vasco da Gama? No, not this one. Now we had blue skies, but the photos spoiled by those encamped on the dais. So it goes.

Back on Praco do Comercio we happened upon the Beer Museum, a great venue in terms of design, but Bier-wise, nothing Hector was desperate to come back for. At the water’s edge, Cais das Colunas, I imagined Cleopatra in her barge tying up here. Maybe there was a Venetian influence too. No activity, the port is no longer here.

Delaying the uphill walk home I led Marg west, knowing the way back, Ascensor da Bica if necessary. I had received a message telling me I had to visit the British Bar. This was but a few metres from Crafty Corner where we had spent half of last night. Both Marg and Hector ordered Cider. Cider follows Curry.

Ashtrays! Why? Disgusting!

The evening began with a return to The Beer Station which we had stumbled upon yesterday. There was Bier to be had, though the bottled selection impressed more than the draught. We got talking to a couple from Leicester, a few were tips received.

Steve and Louise suggested a rendezvous at Duque Brewpub where we ended up last night. Google Maps and stairs, rubbish. All round the houses, every turn took us further away. There are times when dead reckoning is more sensible.

Nobody had eaten, food required. Walking down the stairs we came across the Beunos Aires restaurant, a charming venue.

The menu had nothing I wanted to eat, at prices I didn’t want to pay. The others agreed, we left, and bumped into the couple from Leicester.

O Adrianou was more basic, the food was simple, very satisfying. Hector had Sardines, one can never have too much Fish. Here also was the opperchancity to try the Super Bock of Nando’s fame in Portugal. Cold, yellow, fizzy, with a – kick.