Have I Really Been Here Before?

So, I remember squat about this city. And I’ve been here at least three times. Twice passing through on my way to Madeira and Porto and once when I got stuck here on my way to Madrid. I do kinda remember walking through the Alfama district but I think I might be confusing that with a similar neighborhood in Porto. And I do remember some guy following me in a big, green park that in my mind’s memory eye looked a bit like the Washington Mall, sans obelisk.

My first time in Lisbon was one night in 1987, a stopover on my way home from Madeira. I think that was the time I was followed and wrote off Lisbon as “dangerous”. (I actually laughed out loud typing that…oh the things I thought were dangerous when I was 19.) The second time was in 1988, the beginning of my 6-month backpacking trip through Europe. Maybe this explains why I remember squat.

I am exhausted, it is now 1:30 Portugal time and I am waiting for a train to Porto. I have no idea how I got here. I remember getting off the plane in Madrid, making an expensive reservation on TAP to Lisbon (I used my YIEE card and got a 25% discount), then I got on a bus that took me to this station, Santa Apolonia—which when we pulled up to it, I thought it was an unemployment office. After a few “fala ingles?’s” I got a ticket to Porto. I am so proud of myself, I also think I’m the only female under 50 and under 200 pounds here. When I first arrived in Madrid, I was so confused that I was about to change the flight from Lisbon to London. I think I’ll be fine. I also haven’t taken one picture yet, and I’ve already been in two time zones! Lisbon is as ugly as it was 2 years ago. I’ll let you know if I get to Porto.”

Travel journal, March 16, 1988

Wow, so 32 years ago I thought Lisbon was ugly and that the only women that traveled on trains were a little chubby and my age now. I did get to Porto…and clearly I took as many pictures back then as I do now.

I was kicking myself that I didn’t read my journal before I left NY. I really thought the city would feel even a little familiar but nothing came back to me at all…nada. But wow, I really did not like Lisbon in 1988. It may have been because my passport was stolen which I didn’t realize until I was on an overnight train trying to cross the Spanish border. I had to get off with a stranger in the middle of the night and was forced to spend three stressful, scary days in Lisbon recovering my nationality. I remember every detail about that like it was yesterday.

Anyway, I love it now! After my first fun day of reacquainting myself with a place I didn’t remember, I chatted with the hotel bellman about how surprised I was that I didn’t recognize anything. He was around my age, maybe a bit older, but he said it is a completely different city. So maybe it really was ugly and dangerous in the 80s and my first impressions were not just the naive ramblings of an inexperienced teenager. I might have to break out my big ol’ orange Let’s Go Europe to see what was going on back then! So funny, I also didn’t like Madrid the first time I went. I remember thinking it was intimidating and unfriendly compared to the other Spanish cities I visited (I also had a passport-related issue there too, by the way). Wrapped up my first day with an enormous, delicious cocktail watching the sun go down over terracotta roofs. Definitely much better than my first night in Lisbon at the Poussada Juventude (which was apparently my first youth hostel ever!) where I slept passportless in a shaky bunk bed on top of the rest of my valuables.

I only had two full days to explore Lisbon, so the next day I wanted to try and pack in two more neighborhoods I didn’t remember visiting before going south to spend a week in the Alentejo region. I was headed to Porto Covo, a little fishing village on the Rota Vicentina, “the fisherman’s trail”, for some more new year hiking and photography. Was super excited to see somewhere I really haven’t been before. As I headed out the door I thought some things just don’t change, I was also starting this day getting a ticket to go somewhere else.

Yeah, I didn’t remember Belem or Baixa districts either. I was here for three whole days! Sure I was distressed, but what the hell was I doing? You used to get locked out of youth hostels during the day so I wasn’t in a fetal position on a bunk bed in a female dorm. I couldn’t cash any traveller’s checks so I know I didn’t have any money so I wasn’t getting a massage or anything. I did write an awful lot about the whole passport drama which I do remember explicitly. And I think I remember mostly everyone I wrote about that I met, except the two guys I went with to Sintra. I mean I kinda remember them, but not really, although I do remember going to Sintra! Maybe I have pictures of them. I don’t know why this is bugging me so much.

Anyway, I doubt I’ll forget my return to Lisbon! I just wish I spent two more days here before heading off to Porto Covo, wanted to see some Fado and visit my new friends in Lourinha. I’ll just have to come back…which will most likely be closer to 32 days than 32 years.