Its meanders of astonishment insomnia and shacks

And so here we are, at the third and final installment of my Portugese adventure. I went to Lisbon for a few days and sauntered about on my own and ate cheese rolls in the shade of a tree and ran my scarf under a cold tap to cool me down and walked for miles and miles and went out of the city to visit a castle or two. 

Here's a poem I saw inscribed on a bench. It sums up what Lisbon feels like:

I say “Lisbon”
When I arrive from the south and cross the river
And the city opens up as if born from its name
It opens and rises in its nocturnal vastness
In its long shimmering of blue and of river
In its rugged body of hills –
[I see it better because I say it
Everything is more clearly where it is
Everything shows more clearly what it lacks
Because I say]*
Lisbon with its name of being and nonbeing
With its meanders of astonishment insomnia and shacks
And its secret theatre sparkle
Its masklike smile of intrigue and complicity
While the wide sea stretches westward
Lisbon swaying like a sailing ship
Lisbon cruelly built next to its own absence
I say the city’s name
I say it to see
Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen (1919-2004)
translated by Richard Zenith 

Some things I saw:

There's me on the right, just to prove I was there...

Trams and tiles and flowers.

 Supercool pulp titles.

 Even the bins (right) are pretty.

I FLIPPIN LOVE CUSTARD TARTS AND THESE WERE PERFECTION. I was not unhappy to be informed it was traditional to have a beer alongside.

A visit to the Castle at sunset (below etc).

There was a peacock at the castle that I got a bit stalky with...

...but can you blame me?

Things get more Narnia as the sun falls.

At Sintra.

Lisbon I love you.

*On the bench this part in brackets was not there but I liked it when I looked up the poem so I left it in.

An abandoned villa

While exploring the hamlet of Vilarinha my mum and I stumbled over a pair of villas standing empty and unloved. One looked to be halfway through the process of demolition and the other seemed never to have quite been finished off. A random selection of objects were scattered through each - a bottle of herbs, Portugese magazines, a pair of man's shoes, children's drawings, glittery thread, Trivial Pursuit pieces, and some beautiful German playing cards. Someone had obviously stayed there for a while. Here's a few things that my eyes liked...

This message, scribbled on the wall and then rubbed out, reads: 'Are you interested to do something with this house? [phone number] Sorry for the graffity I'll paint it.'

I will admit to being suddenly nervous that we would find a body floating in the reedy swimming pool.

So I brought home some of the lovely playing cards. I chose aces and tens.

I felt like the flippin Famous Five scrambling through these rooms.

Carrapateira, aka Wonderland

It's been a couple of weeks since I returned from a trip to Portugal and I'm still daydreaming about this lovely land. The photographs below are from a week my family and I spent near Carrapateira in the Algarve. Our tiny hamlet, Vilarinha, consisted of six or so houses, all beautifully renovated.

Leedale Junior

The scramble down to the local beach.

 Jessica catches the breeze.

Holiday essentials.

 Late night iPadding.

Vilarinha

 A day trip to nearby Lagos.

Selfie pulling superweird face.

 Leedale senior.

 Nom.

Coming up next...ABANDONED VILLAS!