1) Packed up, I went to the front desk to see if I could convert a pile of change into one euro coin and fell into conversation with another guest who was looking for a box to wrap up a copy of Spare, Prince Harry’s memoir, for friends arriving that day — who would be checking into my room. He is taking a long time to circumnavigate the globe, and I referred him to My Vagabond Journey Around the World by Denis Franck. In 18 months Franck worked his way around the world in the years before World War I and had many adventures. I still have my copy from Boston Book Annex that I bought back in college.
2) I was ready early for the Nice Man with the Car, and off we went to Cascais. Adeus, Lisbon! You dazzled me with your charms and gave me quite a workout, and introduced me to a couple wonderful new friends. It’s just too bad you’re built on pleated ground.
3) En route to Cascais, we talked about New York, his honeymoon destination next year. “Tell me, sir,” he asked “do none of the hotels come with breakfast?” I said that wasn’t typically the American way, but encouraged him to consider the Algonquin, since the Red Flame diner was right next door.
The etiquette course I took never offered a specific guideline for this sort of soup service.
4) We arrived at the hotel, the Pestana Cidadella, a whisper after noon. To pass the time until my room was ready, I headed across the courtyard for a bit of lunch. I chose something on the menu that they didn’t have, which led me to order whatever was next after it. That turned out to be a Portuguese stew of beef cheeks (?) and potatoes, served in an iron pot with a cork through the potlid to make it easier to lift. Maybe not the best choice on what was turning into a hot and sunny afternoon, but it was still tasty.
5) The hotel is built inside the Cidadella (pronounced SEE da DEH la, not CHEE tah DEh la like the Italians), an old fortress. This means that the hotel is basically shaped like a C. My room was quite close to the spa and the breakfast room at one end of the C, but the lobby was at the other end.
5a) The hotel is also in an arts district, so the buildings around the courtyard house art galleries and bookstores, and they have good public art in and around the hotel.
Before I had completely scattered everything over the place.
5b) My room was the exact opposite of the Old World charm of my Lisbon hotel. Instead of 19th-century mouldings and French windows overlooking a park, here everything was sleek and modern and spare, and I had a small sitting area screened by a tall but porous hedge.
6) After I unpacked, I lay down for a bit and felt as sleepy as I ever did during the entire trip. It’s almost as if I was in a neutral transitory space between Portugal and home.
7) But I couldn’t let that keep me from the pool, and off I trekked, barefoot in trunks and a long-sleeved shirt, to find it down a long path of uneven paving stones occasionally scattered with surprise gravel. I had to pass a very small café just by the pool, where I noticed what used to be called a “hen party” enjoying themselves over a class of wine. Walking up a small flight of stone steps to the pool, it would appear they had left their towels and bags on ALL the loungers by the pool. Not one left —that’s what I call a jerk move.
7a) As it happened, the water was chillier than expected, but the sun warmer in the grassy spot not far away where I found an unoccupied lounger.
8) Later I did get out to see a bit of Cascais and have dinner. It felt like a good evening to be outside, and I found an unpretentious rooftop place where I had a steak and a good glass of red wine.
The Cidadella.
8a) And observed a real character. I first saw her as I was ushered to a table on this casual rooftop terrace, a woman with white-blonde hair, large sunglasses, and a brown leather jacket, at a table with her feet up on one chair listening to a very audible podcast. It’s bad enough to endure that behavior on the subway, but in a resort town like Cascais? Later she moved on to a phone conversation with someone, clearly aggravated about arrangements for the next day in Lisbon. “I couldn’t get tickets to that museum Michael liked.”
8b) Later she got up to find someone to pay her bill, and her posture surprised me. Tall, lean in an angular way, wearing black sneakers with white heels. Her walk communicated how unsure she was, and how urgent.
9) After dinner I wandered back to Santini’s for ice cream -- the chocolate and the hazelnut, please! Then I retreated to my neutral space, ready to record it all in my dreams.
