Coffee and Water and a Panorama

Seasonal transition is in full swing this Michigan October morning.  Last night’s air grew cold. The morning remains cold. Early last evening the weather people advised us of frost and freeze dangers.  Luckily, I had harvested the last of our basil a night earlier.  Picked the volunteer peppers, too.

Preparing to leave this morning, leather coat (check), thick sweater (check), I did find the canvas bag filled with gloves. So right now, there are on my hands a matching (!!!-true surprise at finding mates) pair of black snug hand covers sufficient to warm my hands.

Gloves were the last thing on my mind when I spent the last week of September in Lisbon. Every single day the temperature reached the 90s. The sky was absolutely clear, there was virtually no humidity. In such spectacular conditions I walked about 8 miles each day. Lisbon is built on a number of fairly steep hills. I think at the end of each day my Fitbit application would be telling me I had walked 14 or 16 flights of steps.

Unexpected joys prevailed more times than not. We didn’t mean to, but we did end up on the number 28 tram. All the tour books talk about this tram.

Yellow and ancient and jerking along it paused where we were standing and decided, why the heck not. Having taken the flyer of that ride I can tell you without question the guidebooks are right, get on the tram at the first stop and grab a seat. We got on the tram at the second or third stop, thus we stood soon for the entirety of the ride.  Still, it was not comfortable.

Craning our necks and scrunched in the center aisle as more and more people boarded, we did see a great number of the sites the ride offers to visitors of Lisbon.

We got off tram 28 early because we had seen a park with umbrella covered tables that had wine and beer and what looked like a quite beautiful overlook of the city. Believing the end of the line was soon we overshot the park by a couple of stops.  When we got off we tried to walk back to those enticing tables but alas we got lost. Hopelessly lost.

Eventually we decided to sit down in one of the infinite numbers of pastry /coffee shops that are omnipresent in Portugal. The smell of flaky, fluffy delightful pastry mingled with fresh espresso scents can be found everywhere. The beauty is these little corner spots also serve beer and hard liquor. “Uma becca (sp?) e uma agua, faghe (sp?) favor”, espresso for the lovely lady and water for the old sweaty dude please.

We asked the proprietor for directions back to the park we had passed. Nao, she wouldn’t give us directions to park. She without reservation stated to get the most beautiful view of Lisbon we had to go up the hill. So, after purchasing our coffee and water, the ever present ever needed agua we headed out. Three blocks up the hill she said. Three blocks at a 45° incline we said. Sipping our water, no guzzling, panting, sweating, we made our way up the three blocks. The senhora at the coffee shop was right, it was a magnificent view.

Off to the side of the park was a small chapel. The park had a small cluster of trees and some benches.  In the shade a man was playing a guitar for the  tips his hat sat waiting to catch. Guitar man's sound was pretty good. What a joy it was to view the city from side to side as we listened to some laid-back jazz noodling.  Eventually we sat and sipped ice-cold water. The panorama was a delight. Serendipity.