Portugal to the Rescue

The winter in D.C. is always ugly, and it is especially tenacious this year. The need to escape became overwhelming in February. Portugal, with temperatures 20 degrees Fahrenheit higher than here and mostly sunny skies, made its siren's call. I had always wanted to see it, or at least since Sean Connery made it look so sexy in Russia House when he reunited with Michelle Pfeiffer in Lisbon. And that was many years ago, so there was no excuse to postpone a visit any further. 

Let me admit that before this trip I could name perhaps three things about Portugal: Lisbon, port and fado. I planned to get more basics before setting sail, but what with the work and fatigue piling up, I decided it was more important to rest, and learn what was necessary when I get on location.

Please don't tell anyone, but I wasn't even sure if Portugal was a monarchy or republic. Never even thought about it. The Portuguese are self-effacing and have not been in the headlines since the signing of the Treaty of Lisbon in 2007. You have to have a compelling reason to think about them. So when the taxi drove me along the vast Tagus River on arrival in Lisbon, I thought it was the ocean. 

OK, this is becoming too embarrassing, so I am not admitting to anything else. After all, I did recognize names such as Vasco da Gama and Magellan, as well as St. Anthony. Just had to be reminded they were Portuguese - yes, even St. Anthony (born Fernando Martins de Bulhões) who is claimed by Padua, where he only spent the last years of his life. Let's not forget Fatima. Who has not heard of Fatima? I just needed a little reminder that this particular pilgrimage is in Portugal. But, for the sake of honesty, names such as Sidónio Pais, the first president of Portugal and Luís de Camões, the 16th-century poet, drew a blank.

A very hot day in February, Praça do Commércio, Lisbon

On that first sunny day in Lisbon, none of that mattered. I walked out in a cotton shirt and thin jacket (just in case) and by the time I hit  Praça de Commercio, Lisbon's huge main square opened toward the river, I was drenched in sweat. As I pealed off layer after layer of clothing, wondering if St. John was looking on, I felt sorry for the poor souls who have planned their visit for April or May. Tourist lines were already forming outside museums and amenities, and services were not rushed to accommodate the crowds. What's it going to be like in May, or June? Italian was the most frequently heard foreign language. Hats off to the Italians who obviously know when to visit Portugal. Mine was not an informed decision, just a random search for a warm escape from the winter.

Belém Tower in early morning, lines are already forming

Joined by a friend from Croatia, I proceeded to all the "tourist traps" in and around Lisbon, felt really ripped off in Sintra, awed at Cabo da Roca and Boca do Inferno, and relaxed in Cascais, which actually is on the coast. All the places were as beautiful and charming as in the guide books, and more, because I did not expect so many tiled facades and I am a sucker for tiles.

Gorgeous tiled facade in Cascais, Portugal 

A good place for a quick summary of the Portuguese history was an exhibit at the Jerónimos Monastery in Belém, where you can also pay homage to the tombs of da Gama and de Camões at the Santa Maria Church. And while admiring the grandeur of the imposing exterior of the UNESCO World Heritage Site, I did not immediately recall that leaders of 27 European nations posed there for a family photo in December of 2007, after signing a treaty to formalize their Union.

Belém is also a good place to taste Portugal's most famous pastry - pastel de nata.  

The little custard pies are sold everywhere, but the pastelaria in Belém serves them straight from the oven.  The lines to get one are long, but the wait is worth it because they are truly the best.  They may even contain a secret ingredient, as the bakery claims, that makes them better than any other pastel de nata in the world.

Long lines outside Lisbon's most famous pastry shop 

While in Lisbon you must do fado - it originated in the area and it has made UNESCO's list of World's Intangible Cultural Heritage. I think I would love fado a lot more if I understood what the songs say, but the two performers at Fado in Chiado made every effort to keep the largely international audience engaged for an hour.

The National Ballet Company's performance of Don Quixote took us all the way to the Parque das Nações, a new part of Lisbon, near the Oriente Station. Unfortunately, there was no time to take a cable car ride along the river, but we took a good look at Europe's second longest bridge - the Vasco da Gama - which spans the Tagus River banks where they are farthest apart. The spectacular modern architecture around the Oriente Station is proof that new sections of large metropolitan areas don't have to be dull and dreary as they are in many cities.

Oriente Station, Lisbon

Vasco da Gama shopping mall

The Camões Theater, on the river bank is plain inside and out and the ballet was performed to recorded music, which was a significant let down. Costumes and settings were far from innovative, but the dancers' enthusiasm made up for all the weaknesses.  

A carnival-themed concert at the Coliseu included a Berlioz piece, which for me is always a sign of higher taste. Granted, it was the usual Roman Carnival Overture, but it was Berlioz -who is avoided like plague in most American music institutions.  And to be fair, it was Fat Tuesday, the last day before Lent, so the choice was justified. The orchestra members were dressed in silly costumes; confetti were thrown on the stage and streamers from the upper tiers to the parterre; Polish conductor Sebastian Perlowski engaged the audience, and good time was had by all, as the Brits would say.

The most creative performance we saw in Lisbon was the opera at the Cultural Centre of Belém. Pairing Bartok's Bluebird's Castle with Poulenc's La Voix humaine was unusual in itself, but what made it special was the way the producers made one opera out of the two. The soprano in Poulenc's one act/one voice piece first appeared in the last room of Bluebird's castle as one of his former wives. In La Voix humaine she seemed to be telling us how she ended up in the castle's dungeon. Especially if your French was not good enough to understand her and the surtitles in Portuguese did not help.

But even without the cultural attractions, Lisbon in February would have been paradise. It is the law of the nature though to inflict punishment for any lengthy period of enjoyment. Flying into the Dullas Airport was a penance all by itself, but to add insult to injury, it snowed the next morning in Washington with heavens sending the message: you can enjoy Portugal all you like, but you can't escape the D.C. weather.