Day 1

Saturday, 6/20 -- We all sleep in to the shockingly late hour of 11.  Jet lag keeps you up until an ungodly hour of the morning and then when you at last fall asleep, it is like the dead.  Without any real plan for the day we just set out for a couple nearby destinations just to familiarize ourselves with the neighborhood and what is right around us.  We set off down the hill toward the water and then over toward a large square that is nearby.  The city feels old, but its gritty and alive at the same time.  Ornate tiles cover many of the old buildings we pass and the sidewalks are black and white marble diamonds polished smooth over the years.  Along the way we come across a store that specializes in the sale of Portuguese sardines and other tinned seafood.  Its not so much that people are in search of high quality tinned fish (though if you've seen me eat lunch sometime over the last year, you know this is what i do eat), but rather for the beautiful, vintage but yet still relevant packaging.  The store is hipster heaven, as is much of Lisbon, but not in a Portlandia parody, rather its authentic Portuguese heritage brands -- what you would have grown up with were you a 30-50 something Lisboan in search of your version of Qwisp, Laugh-a-lympics, or Nehi.

This same nostalgia is seen throughout the city, as shown in the second image above.

We find the square, which is lined with touristic restaurants, as are all squares in Europe.  There are fun water fountains that shoot the drinking water into the air and there is space for the girls to run (apparently tinned seafood shops don't appeal to little ones).  Its hot already so we get them some ice cream and we head down along the promenade that follows the waterfront.  Dead fish, and street musicians keep everyone entertained but we end up splitting up and the three of us head off for the Time Out restored mercado to find lunch and whatever else is to be seen.  The market is beautifully restored, one half still an active meat and produce market, the other half a beautiful galleria filled with food stalls around the perimeter and tables all through the middle packed with tourists and Lisboans alike.  In the midst of making the most difficult of all travel decisions -- what to eat -- we run into our partner quartet and rejoin for lunch.  Of the dishes we selected a simple sardine bruscetta and fresh gazspacho is the clear winner (its purchased twice) but the black risotto with seared scallops is equally compelling.

After lunch we stagger off back to our apartment, its hot and late and everyone is still feeling a bit off kilter from the jet lag.  

We come back to some of the most awful music ever to grace a stage.  We later find out its the "Amateur" music festival, but in the moment we all start developing flashbacks to another trip we took together to Sayulita Mexico, where the carnival music kept us up until 4am.  Its interrupted by an impressively large pride parade, but apparently this fervent Catholic country is actually fairly tolerant.

To escape the noise, we took a walk up the hill to a park to check out the view, found more music (better this time) and Harvest discovered the wonder of amazingly cheap, public alcohol consumption in Europe -- 1 euro beers and sangria.

After whetting our appetites we walk back down the hill to Cafe India, a restaurant Sara found on the way to the grocery.   To say that it live up to the hype is an understatement.  To put things in context, we walked into a shoulder to shoulder packed neighborhood joint, paper lined tables, a place unchanged since it opened in the 50's, 60's or 70s.  After we ordered we asked the waiter if we ordered enough and   while he didn't want to dissuade us from ordering that much food, he also hinted that it might be on the generous side of excessive.  Fear not, he does not know of whom he speaks.