In late March, we were quite hopeful that Germany would cautiously reopen a little bit more. Cases were falling and if they continued to fall, we might be able to ENTER a store, like a clothing store or a hardware store. Perhaps too optimistic, we purchased tickets to spend our 4-day Easter holiday in Lisbon, Portugal. A week after buying tickets, Germany pulled the emergency-breaks as cases began to rise and announced everything would be shut for the long weekend. We decided to safely travel and enjoy our extended holiday in a sunny location, rather than risk four days trapped inside together. Already fairly isolated as it was, we got our PCR tests the day before our flight and strode out the apartment doors to the train station.
Let me rephrase, we hauled our bicycles in their bike-bags, 3 blocks to the main train station, rode a train, glided them through the airport, then all the way to the other side of the airport to oversized luggage, picked them up in Lisbon and I nearly left mine on the cobble-stone streets after hitting a few too many uneven bricks. When we finally arrived at our Airbnb, the host helped us carry the bike bags up 5 flights of stairs, because one of us really needed a treat yourself weekend with a terrace view. Our host was a blast to talk to and did warn us that his grandma lived in the building and loved to talk, a lot, in Spanish. Let me just say, he warned us.
Once I was relaxed with a glass of water admiring the view, we ordered pizza and I mentioned a few times that we better make use of our bikes. The next morning we walked, because that is the only hobby allowed during a pandemic. I do not know what sites we saw or if we missed out on anything, but we walked. Every so often we would stop for an iconic Pastéis de nata, coffee or our personal favorite, cardamom buns from Copenhagen Coffee Lab. Burnt out from walking, we grabbed street tacos, which we consumed on a park bench before returning to the apartment with a bottle of wine. That's when we met grandma.
My multiple years of formal and informal Spanish was lost in the back of my brain, replaced with the der, die, das of my official second language. Grandma didn't care that our Spanish was terrible, and she restrained us for over an hour questioning us on our life decisions, and sharing words of wisdom we translated to mean, appreciate one another while you have each other. Its those types of interactions that I miss most about traveling and that covid has taken from us. My heart goes out to the older population, isolated from human interaction and so eager to share their wisdom with us. I can only imagine what she has seen in her lifetime, fleeing Spain for refuge in Portugal. Though we loved our interaction, we did sneak down the stairs and open the main door a little more quietly, so we could spend more time exploring (don't worry we always waved to her as she awaited our arrival from the window).
Payden assembled our bikes and we rode around Lisbon, finding a park outside the city to mountain bike. The trails were far more tailored to Payden's skill level than mine but being outside is part of the fun for me. On the way back to the apartment, I navigated us along bike paths, which we were both very impressed with.
On day 2, we ventured out to Sintra which is possibly one of the most iconic villages I have ever seen. Again, all we did was walk around and eat a street cheese burger but I couldn't stop admiring how idyllic the city was. We couldn't stay in Sintra for long because we had to return for a pre-flight 90 Euro covid nose swab, but I will be returning in the after-times.
Day 3 was the biking day that Payden was highly anticipating. And in Payden's opinion, it had it all; the views, the challenge, the elevation and possibly, a small complaining session sponsored by yours truly. Once Payden managed to get his bike through the metro ticket gate, which was a comedy show in itself, we were on our way to Sintra. I have no idea how much elevation gain we ascended but I will say, the locals have their fitness game on, because they were walking almost faster than I peddled. We did a few laps at the mountain biking park, and I found even the green runs were a challenge. Everyone was very respectful and I loved the biking community (greeting one another and genuinely kind). We continued biking and were able to see the coast but had about a 3,000 foot descent before we were near sandy beaches. Despite my gratefulness for this magical experience, somewhere along this pathway, spicy words may have been tossed at my partner. I blame dehydration.
Once we reached the coast, and I collected my pride, we were happy to be sipping on our refilled water bottles in the sand. I found entertainment in the Instamodels flouting what they got and simply, admired the beauty of Portugal. By the time we returned home, we were exhausted. Takeout that night included spicy ribs, guava ice-cream and Red Hot cocktails from Bistro 100 Maneiras. Highly recommend, and am craving their food while I write this.
Our final day in Portugal was cut short because traveling with bike bags takes a bit more time. We enjoyed cardamom buns on a park bench, cleaned up the Airbnb and made our way back to Germany. A few hours later, we were getting our throat swabbed at the Dusseldorf Airport and were greeted by hail. Needless to say, Portugal is on my list of places to return to in the aftertimes, when the streets are more lively as the world recovers.
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