The dismal weather of
the day before gave way magically to sunny skies for Easter Sunday. The god of
the christians smiled on Lisbon. It took Karen and I a long time to get out of
the house. Without the urgency to see everything – now! – that Pat and Ralph
brought, we have fallen into rhythms more like those of home. But we are at
least still getting out every day we can, and exploring and seeing things.
For our Easter treat, we
targeted the Botanical Gardens, all the museums and galleries and most other
attractions in the city being closed for the holiday. We plotted a route using
Google Maps and followed it on the phone. It happened to take us through some
very depressed areas of the city, just below where we are. It’s one of the
shortcomings of Google Maps for city walking – Google doesn’t
necessarily know what kind of neighbourhood it’s taking you through. Much of
the downhill trek was on staircase streets.
I haven’t said
anything about the street art here. There is a fair amount, much of it large
scale, and apparently condoned by the authorities and property owners. And much
of it high quality. Here are some examples of whole-building paintings,
of which there are several around the city.
 |
| Near Avenida Almirante Reis |
 |
| Graca, wall art on street below us |
At some point, after
guiding us perfectly, Google suddenly became confused and told us to turn on a
street that wasn’t there, and as far as we can tell, doesn’t exist. Oh, well. We
did have a paper map, and it wasn’t as if we went far out of our way. We walked
in the same direction as Google seemed to be suggesting, and ended up more or
less where we intended, at Avenida da Liberdade, the broad boulevard we walked
up last week.
Just on the other
side of it, less than a block up, we came on a lovely old building that had
fallen into dereliction. We’ve seen lots of ruined buildings in poorer areas of
the city, including earlier in this walk, but Liberdade is the city’s showpiece,
lined with high-end hotels, international banks and designer boutiques. The
building was partly boarded up, but the door had been forced, and somebody had posted
an ironic sign outside: ‘Aberto’ (open).
 |
| Front hall of abandoned building near Avenida da Liberdade |
I’m guessing it is
being, or has been used as a squat. I prised the door further open and looked
in on a scene of ruin. It’s astonishing the authorities would leave a building
like this open anywhere, let alone here. We had seen a gutted shell earlier in the
walk, and were appalled to notice that the wire fence had been breached. It was
incredibly dangerous for neighbourhood children, who would undoubtedly be attracted
to the site. All of this is further reminder that the country is still among
Europe’s poorest and most cash-strapped.
The neighbourhood
grew relatively posh as we walked up from Libertade toward the Botanical
Gardens, but we had another reminder of economic hardship when we got to our
destination. A sign posted outside the ticket office – 2€ each for entry – basically
apologized for the dilapidated state of the gardens, saying it was due to
funding cuts.
 |
| Botanical Gardens, front gate with redbud |
 |
| Botanical Gardens, cactus vandalized by Dania |
What it did not add
was that half the attractions inside were closed, including a butterfly garden
and some of the greenhouses, and that the place needed hundreds of hours of
weeding. We ended up feeling a little cheated. It’s a lovely spot, a quiet
respite from the busy city just outside the high walls. And the
arboretum, with its tropical and semi-tropical trees, is impressive still, if
also showing signs of neglect. But even 2€ was a bit of an insult. I’m guessing
it would cost millions to return the gardens to their former glory. Mind you,
it didn’t stop me taking scads of photos.
We walked up past
Principe Real – a major leafy square with lots of local holiday makers and
tourists out for Sunday strolls. Our aim was to find a place to sit outside and
have a drink in the sun. Principe Real didn’t have one, surprisingly.
 |
| Crazy building across from Principe Real park |
We kept
going and found ourselves back in Bairro Alto, at the the Miradouro de São
Pedro de Alcântara, the place we’d eaten our picnic lunch a couple of days
before. There are two cafes there, but one had no tables in the sun and the
other didn’t sell wine or beer.
 |
| Park at Miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara |
 |
| Panoramic view from Miradouro de São Pedro de Alcântara (you can click the pic to see it bigger) |
So we walked down
some stairs from the gardens and onto the steep street that the Elevador da
Gloria funicular runs up and down. We followed it down, snapping pics of the
trains and the street art along the way, and ended up at the bottom of Avenida
da Liberdade.
 |
| Panoramic view of wall art on street of the Elevador da Gloria funicular |
 |
| Mounting the car at the bottom of the Elevador da Gloria funicular |
We still hadn’t seen
anywhere we liked for a drink, so we kept going, across the Avenida and down
into the Rossio Square area. We found an Italian restaurant on a pedestrian
street with a sunny patio, and settled there. In economic terms, it was a
mistake. The drinks were about the most expensive we’ve had anywhere in
Portugal. On one occasion, we paid 2.20€ for a beer and a glass of wine; here,
it was 9€. The drinks were a generous size, though, and we sat in the warm sun
for 40 minutes or so. Then we walked home, huffing and puffing up the hill from
Martim Moniz square.
 |
| My beautiful bride, sitting in the sun near Rossio Square |
 |
| The terrace on the street above our drink spot |
 |
| Spotted on the way home: a less salubrious part of Graca |
Easter Monday was
heavily overcast, but the forecast said there was little chance of rain. We walked
down to the river by our usual route, to the Mercado da Ribeira, the market
refurbished by the Time Out company and turned into a kind of foodie hang-out.
It sells fresh produce still, but also has a large, attractive food court,
lined with little stalls selling trendy and/or gourmet food.
 |
| Another shot of the seamier side of Graca, on the way down the hill from us |
We had thought of
buying something here and taking it away with us for a picnic lunch. But the
sellers in the produce market were mostly closed, or closing early as we
arrived – becauase it was Monday, or because it was Easter Monday? And the
stalls in the food court didn’t really sell picnic fare.
I’m sure the market
looks different when all the stalls are open and thronged with
shoppers, but I wasn’t terribly impressed. They’ve done a nice job renovating
the old market, turning it into an airy, modern space. But the booths
mostly sell over-priced, fussy food. La Boqueria in Barcelona, while not exactly the same thing, and the Marché
les Enfants Rouges in the Marais in Paris are infinitely superior.
After a brief
wander-through, we walked a couple of blocks over and waited for the No. 25
tram that would take us out to the Cemitério dos Prazeres, a huge cemetery with
streets and streets of above-ground crypts – or jazigos, as the Portuguese call
them. (We wondered if it was the same word as gazebo, which would be amusing, but
no.) The No. 25 tram is not as busy with tourists, who are only told in their
guide books about the 28, so we were both able to get seats. The ride took
about 20 minutes, out past the Basilica and Jardim do Estrela.
 |
| Cemitério dos Prazeres |
The cemetery is an
amazing place. The biggest and most opulent of the tombs, some almost the size
of small houses, with elaborate stone carvings and stained glass windows, must
have cost a fortune. Quite a few had glass doors or windows on the front so you
could look inside and see how luxurious the fittings were – and see the coffins
sitting on their shelves. One we saw, with a tiny little coffin, was decorated inside with children’s toys.
 |
| Cemitério dos Prazeres |
Many of those with
windows showed tattered and faded lace and gauze coverings on the coffins, and
other signs of decay and neglect. Some of the crypts had clearly been abandoned.
 |
| Cemitério dos Prazeres: some tombs had been abandoned |
The cemetery also offered
great views out over the near suburbs of Lisbon and the April 25 suspension
bridge. We spent over an hour there, just wandering the crypt-lined streets,
marveling at the excess, and the oddities of the religious culture that gives
rise to it.
 |
| Panoramic view from cemetery of April 25 bridge |
 |
| Suburban Lisbon tenements viewed from Cemitério dos Prazeres |
 |
| The brutalist school of family tomb design |
 |
| City of the dead - with ultra-modern church steeple poking up at the end of the street |
 |
| A cute little cottage in a nice neighbourhood |
When we came back out
front, there was a No. 28 tram sitting there that wasn’t jammed. We got on, both
found seats and settled for the long ride back to Graca – through Estrela, Chiado,
the city centre and Alfama. Within a few stops, the car was packed.
At one point, a
70-something English couple got on and the woman sat in the seat next to me.
Some time later, her husband evidently complained of being tired, and she got
up and let him sit down. When he did, he sat with his back to me, rather than
the back of the seat, and leaned against me heavily. What did he think I was, a sofa? After
a moment, when he didn’t shift or seem to notice he was pressed against
something warm and soft, I tapped him on the shoulder and said, “You’re kind of
leaning on me.” “Oh, am I? I’m sorry,” he replied, and turned in the seat. At
that, I started feeling a little badly. It occurred to me he might have
deliberately done it to draw attention to the fact I hadn’t got up to let
him sit down. But why would he think I should have? He
couldn’t have been more than 10 years older than me. In any case, I stood and
let his wife have my seat. She protested, weakly, then sat.
Shortly after, we got
off in Graca. They got off at the same stop! I thought of turning and saying
something apologetic before we went our separate ways, but couldn’t be bothered. We looked half-heartedly in
Graca for a restaurant for lunch, but in the end decided to go home – via the
Pingo Doce grocery store. We stayed in for the evening.
Yesterday, we were
surprised about 11:30 by a buzz at the door. When I opened it, there was the
cleaner. She was originally supposed to come Monday, but Rita, our landlady,
had forgotten to warn us that plans had changed. We hastily vacated to let her
get on with it.
We walked down first to
the bottom of our street, less than a block away, and did a photo shoot at the
fabulous wall mural there. We had spotted it the first day, but I’d saved
photographing it. It’s called ‘The Poetesses’ by Mariana Dias Coutinho, who is
evidently more than just a street artist (see link to her Tumblr site).
 |
| Detail of Mariana Dias Coutinho's 'The Poetesses': Sophia de Mello Breyner and her fairy Oriana |
The
mural includes a series of portraits of famous Portuguese poets. I think it’s probably
the most ambitious and accomplished piece of wall art I’ve seen, and it’s in a
quite different style from the usual video game- and graffiti-inspired
work. It's almost classical. Note, however, that, good as it is, it still gets no respect
from the taggers.
 |
| The Portuguese poetess Florbela Espanca, by Mariana Dias Coutinho |
Her artist’s
statement – on a plaque on the wall in Portuguese and English (this piece was
obviously condoned by authorities) – is a model of how it should be done,
without all the art school mumbo-jumbo: “I tried to portray each poetess using
and appropriating the casual forms and patterns of the ancient wall itself. I
start with Sophia de Mello Breyner and her fairy Oriana. Florbela Espanca
follows with her heart, her love, her lovers. Natália Correia’s portrait comes
next, smoking her famous mouthpiece [cigarette holder]. Among these figures I
painted an imaginary poetry reading scene. The last portrait is of social
activist Angelina Vidal.” You can sense her affection and admiration for her
subjects.
 |
| ‘The Poetesses’ by Mariana Dias Coutinho: Natália Correia |
 |
| ‘The Poetesses’ by Mariana Dias Coutinho: imagined poetry reading |
We walked on to what
we had thought was a fairly substantial produce market off the main shopping street
of Graca, but discovered it was a paltry affair with fewer than 10 stalls, most
of which were closed or closing. No wonder the Pingo Doce is always so crowded.
 |
| Graca main street: salmon and hot pink |
Our next idea was to
find a restaurant for lunch in Graca, but we didn’t find one we could agree on. (Too
much fish for Karen’s taste!) So we decided to walk on to Alfama, a much more
touristy area that we knew was chocker-block with eateries. It’s also where the
Museum of Portuguese Decorative Arts is, which was to be our afternoon
activity. We walked via the Miradouro da Graca in front of the Graca church, which we first visited last week,
and which we can see – usually thronged with tourists at sunset time – from our
front windows.
 |
| Views toward city centre from Miradouro da Graca |
In Alfama, we
searched until we were too tired and crabby, and ended up at a
compromise choice, across the street from the Largo Das Portas do Sol, at one
of the most popular miradouros. It’s
a busy, noisy corner, with No. 28 trams, brimful of tourists, clanking by. The
food was okay, but not great. The sun, when it came out intermittently, was
hot. Our museum was on the same square. When we finished lunch, we ambled over,
to discover it was closed on Tuesdays. It appears to be the only museum or
attraction in Lisbon closed on Tuesday!
So we set out for the
Museum of Design and Fashion, right down in the centre near Commerce Square.
Along the way, we found a little ice cream place, and Karen had a very nice
chocolate and hazelnut cone.
The museum, which is
rightly free, is mildly interesting, but the collection sparse. It’s in a
gorgeous old bank building that has basically been gutted to accommodate the
museum displays. The permanent exhibit traces the history of design in
the second half of the 20th century, with information boards that tell the
story in bad English translations of pretentious art-speak. The idea of
mingling furniture – it’s mostly about the furniture – with fashion and
household goods, and even music, is interesting, but they need more stuff and a
more imaginative way of presenting it. There are some lovely examples of early modern furniture design by the
likes of Mies van der Rohe and Corbusier.
We made the mistake
of climbing all the way to the top floor – the elevator is out of commission – for
a temporary exhibit of work by a mid-20th century Portuguese furniture designer
we’d never heard of. He apparently mostly worked for big hotels: not bad stuff,
but it looked derivative to us.
We walked home,
planning to come out again for the sunset at our miradouro, but never did. The apartment was lovely and clean with
fresh linen and towels. We snacked late in the evening, played Scrabble (my
mastery continues), and finished with an episode of one of our Netflix series (The 100.)
