Reverend Ken's Blog: #2212; Wednesday, January 9: 2 days back, 1 more then out

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Post 2212
- 8 years and 9 days since I started this blog -

Journal
(written 1/10/19)

Read this once (it won't change for the rest of the trip(s): I'll be linking this post to Facebook. If that's how you got here, here's some background: About 8 years ago I started this blog as a food journal. I had a medical situation and needed to lose weight. Initially, that's all I did here: Journal my food intake and my weight. It contributed to helping me lose 20+% of my body weight in 6 months, and continuing has kept me on track since then. I started adding commentary after a while, but lately it has become infrequent.

While I'm traveling, I let go of the weight-tracking and food journaling, except for the occasional food shot when I've eaten something interesting. And that's where we find ourselves now.

I'm doing laundry and writing a blog. Multitasking at its finest. Laundromats are more expensive in Lisbon, the only place in Portugal I've been in one, than in the US.

With only one more whole day on this trip (my plane leaves early on Friday), I am reflecting on the trip, comparing it with my other trips and experiences. I've already said this is not the place I'll end up in when I expatriate, but I am anything but negative on the city. I had to uncheck a two boxes on my list of where-to-live qualifications, and just one would have eliminated it.

But neither of those things (walkability and low-cost-of-living) has affected my regard for this town, or stopped me from enjoying myself. The walkability thing, which is more my problem than Lisbon's (I'm slightly arthritic with bad knees), slowed me down for one day, true; and the cost of living is low, just not low enough.

This city is so beautiful I can overlook the nasty tagging-graffiti that is epidemic all over Portugal, defacing beautiful architecture as well as the mundane walls. It's ugly, but after a while, like living near the elevated trains in New York City, you become inured to it.

And, more than just beauty, Lisbon is charming. It has grace. It has great weather. It is cosmopolitan: I have met people from more than a dozen countries here, though mostly Portuguese (and very few Americans), and I've experienced nothing but friendliness.

How much you enjoy any trip depends, for me, on the people you meet. I haven't encountered anybody on this trip who I would not befriend.

The events of the last few days, have centered around food and music.

I made my only dining reservation of the whole trip to dine at Estamine Art Food Drink, a tiny, reservations-only restaurant that is like being invited into a nice Portuguese couple's eat-in-kitchen for dinner. There are only two tables, and the night I was there, besides Joyce and Louis (the proprieters) there was only one couple at the other table.

I was invited by the couple to join them, we bonded quickly, and the rest of the night was magic. The food was excellent, and I think everybody had a good time! The conversation ran to dozens of topics, was full of good humor and everybody contributed some insights - it was entertaining and refreshing. Ashok and Roxanne are an amazing couple, they're engaged and engaging. By the end of the night, we felt like old friends.

The restaurant is just below the peak of the highest hill in Lisbon (that's saying something - when you make your reservation at Estamine, they warn you about walking to the restaurant). At the end of dinner, the three of us took a short, steep walk to one of the most famous overlooks in the city. More magic.

I went to bed that night happy and grateful for the experience I'd just had. Unique and unqualifiedly life-enriching.

After a simple brunch of ham and cheese and a delicious dessert, I walk past my apartment to a park a couple of blocks away, passing a few schools and a museum of journalism on the way.

It's a very nice little park, with a statue in the middle of a duck pond, and some interesting trees. Lots of ducks and pigeons, and the odd goose around the pond. I buy a bottle of water from the cafe in the park, and grab a bench to soak it up and chill.

Next up, I am reconnecting with Verica, the kind woman from Bosnia-Herzogovina who, three weeks ago, had asked me to join her at dinner, so we both would not have to eat alone. In the course of that dinner, Verica said she wanted to try tapas (Portuguese style) and we set up a time to do that before I left for the Algarve. Due to work, she'd had to cancel, and this was our 'fall-back' date.

I picked one of the top places from TripAdvisor (usually pretty reliable), Ha Tapas No Mercado (Ha Tapas In the Market) had appeal because it is not just Portuguese, all its products are locally-sourced.

Taking an Uber, I got there right on time, just as HTNM opened for dinner (they have lunch and dinner hours, separated by a 3-hour break). Verica, taking public transportation, got lost, and came later. In fact, while I was waiting for her, I engaged with the owners Sonia and Pedro, as we were the only ones there for a while. Pedro is the maitre d', Sonia does the cooking, although Pedro certainly helps. We mostly discussed the menu, but also music careers (they have a son who plays drums and piano), and the benefits of being 'locavores'.

After a half-hour, I place a starting-tray order, of two cheeses and two meats (both differently-cured hams, as it turns out). I am then offered a wine-tasting of three different varieties, so that I get a taste and Pedro doesn't have to guess. I end up with the vintage 'ordinaire', rejecting the three-times-more-expensive reserve version from the same maker - without knowing the prices. A common-sense victory.

Verica arrives just before the first tray of food gets to the table.

Up to a point, we split the tray evenly, but my appetite is greater than Verica's, especially for meat - she tastes both meats and agrees that they're excellent, but she is more into the cheese - also great - and subsequently, we end up with two orders of mushroom-based dishes, and I eat a shrimp plate (she tastes) entirely on my own. Our conversation turns to a difference in our philosophies - hers is very pragmatic and very materialistic, mine is more antimaterialist and spiritual.

It could be an emotional discussion, maybe even confrontational, but nobody gets defensive, nobody goes in that direction, so instead, we are both able to clarify how we come to our beliefs, and, I think, we both take away some insights. Our differing opinions, based on our different history and generations, actually make the dinner quite stimulating, which is awesome, because said dinner is crazy good.

And I am lucky to have had a chance to hang a bit with Sonia and Pedro, because the restaurant is completely full, with people waiting outside, and they are very, very busy. But everybody seems to be as happy as I am, and I get to see a huge variety of food.

I convince Verica to come with me to Jam Club after dinner. As we were eating dessert, I got two messages to get my ass up there, and realized dinner had run to three hours long!

When we get there, it is, what can I say? A love fest. James has brought a decent bass for me, Marco pours me a Jameson's (neat), Verica gets a soda, and I jam on jazz standards and some jazz arrangements of pop songs for the next three-quarters of an hour - singing a couple, although James does most of the vocals.

There's a break, and who has come in, but Ashok and Roxanne from last night's dinner at Estamine! It's all smiles at Jam Club. I get back on bass until the 11 o'clock amplified music curfew, and as James puts away his guitar, my bass, and the PA/amp we're using, I switch to acoustic guitar and vocals.

I do a chatty set that is very well-received. I've been getting Jameson's continually. I am chatting with Ashok and Roxanne, and Verica and a few other couples when I take a break, it's after midnight (there's a song there), I'm pretty loose. Paolo offers up a shot of something he's mixed up for me, James, and a German couple who've been there all night. I ask Verica to join us (so far, over two meals and an hour at Jam Club, I've never seen her take any alcohol, so I don't know). She does.

The drink is sweet and vile. I make fun of Paolo "Tell me what this is so I don't mistakenly drink it again." Everybody laughs (it's all in the delivery). But Verica really likes it! So another for her.

I'm pretty much finished for the night, but James has a request for a song he likes. I can't leave before I play 'Dirty Work'. So I pull the guitar off the wall and sell it.

Verica has to leave. I put her in an Uber. She has had a first-time experience of being in that kind of bar, with the kind of good vibes that keep me coming back - she's had a good night. We'll keep in touch with email, she wants to come visit me wherever I am next year, if she's rich.

It's after one - James has to leave for a gig. I think about going with him, measure my wasted-ness, see that there are still friends (Ashok and Roxanne and a German couple, Hannah and Sammy) hanging and talking, and we say good-bye. He'll miss me, he's gotten use to me being around. I'll miss him. He's been my best friend in Portugal. We'll keep in touch.

It's nearly two o'clock, closing time, when our little drinking team decides to call it. We take a group picture with Marco and Paolo, I put it on instagram for everybody

I Uber home, and drunk-dial a friend in Florida. I exclaim my extreme good fortune, happiness and gratitude. And drunkenness. He and his wife are hysterical, laughing at me (it's only 9:30pm there).

It's lights-out on a fabulous day.

Food Comment

From Casa de Cha de Santa Isabel, the single best dessert of the trip: Marzipan-filled rollup cake. I dreamed about this and went badc next day for more.