This title could refer to either the immediate past, during which I’ve completely neglected this blog, or to our immediate future, when we’ll be heading to the US and Ireland for a total of 4 weeks.
We’ve been pleasantly occupied in recent weeks with the the visits from two sets of friends. Joan and Bart were here in August, with Mario and TR arriving in early September. We had a great time catching up on their news and showing off our European home town. I can report that all our visitors were either charmed by the same things about Setubal that we are, or they are all very convincing fibbers. Our pride in showing off our favorite sights, sounds, and flavors only increases our appreciation of this terrific place.
With the visit from our friends came the knowledge that I’ve never spelled the name of our city phonetically in this space. I know this because both parties pronounced it the same as each other, but quite different from the official way. The city’s name is pronounced seh TOO bahl, unless you were born and raised here. The true natives say SHTOO bahl. Now that we have that cleared up, I trust my readers will be saying it correctly when they come for a visit!
Our calendar continues to be filled with social opportunities: trivia nights, carry-in dinners, lunches and dinners with various friends, movies, some sight-seeing, trips to Lisbon, and shopping for small tokens we’ll be taking with us to the US. Oh, and we’re also still plugging away at our Portuguese lessons.
A few weeks ago, between visits from our American friends, Tim and I joined a mini-tour of the area just across the river from Lisbon. We’ve crossed the river many times when we go into the city via train or car, but our eyes are always on the north bank. This time, we took a combination of train, tram, and bus to meet up with a small group at a marina on the south side of the Tagus River. First, our guide took us on a tour of the last sailing war ship of the Portuguese navy which was retired in 1874. As we approached Dom Fernando II, she looked stately, but mot large enough to have been too intimidating on the high seas. When we were told she generally sailed with a full crew of between 600 and 650 men, none of us could imagine where all those people would have fit. But as we clamored throughout four decks, she seemed to stretch before our eyes. What a beautiful ship she was! Every surface of wood, glass, and brass were polished to a fine patina. The officers’ dining room was lovely and refined, equipped with dainty bone china and elegant silver service. Mannequins modeled the crisp formal uniforms of the day. Below we saw the holds for supplies, the efficient kitchen, a tiny boiler room providing hot water for the officers, the infirmary, and the wooden posts where insubordinate or lazy sailors were shackled for a few days as punishment for their transgressions. We even saw a cramped suite for passengers who may have accompanied the crew. I trust most of these would have been the family of the captain or other VIPs.
Surrounded by this backdrop, my mind tried to imagine what a voyage on that ship must have been like in heavy weather. I’m always agreeable to a zippy sail on an inland lake, not even objecting if passengers are called upon to heel out over the open water as the boat tips high into the air. But riding this beast into a stormy sea would not be my idea of a joy ride! I’ll have to ask my brother, a US Coast Guard-licensed captain, if staffing a ship like this one is something he’d ever want to try. I thought about my dad, a WWII navy veteran, a lot during this outing. How far the technology had advanced in the 70 years between the voyages of this ship and the one on which Dad served!
After touring the ship, our little group took a bus to a high point of the south bank, on which perches the gigantic statue Cristo Rei. This is a slightly smaller replica of the colossal statue that overlooks Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. We took an elevator most of the way up the tall pedestal of the statue. (They must have run out of money for an elevator that went all the way up to the top!) Those of us wanting to ascend to the observation deck at the foot of the statue had to shimmy past the horde of people coming down on the 18-inch wide winding steps made of slippery marble. The ascent was made even more challenging by the steamy temperature in the airless stairwell. Let’s just say that when my ample ass had to squeeze past another woman’s bountiful bust, we become very well acquainted! Just as I was deciding that I would leap off the 15-story observation deck rather than slither down those horrid stairs, I emerged out of the stifling gloom, into the fresh breeze and phenomenal views below! We spent quite some time on the deck with the statue towering some 150 feet above us. After our eyes had absorbed the sights of beautiful Lisbon and her surrounds, after our brains had recorded the memory of those views, after our lungs had sucked in a good supply of clean, fresh air, we reluctantly began our uneventful descent. It was well worth the time and effort, but would I eagerly go again? No, I would not.
Now I turn my attention to our trip to Ohio. We are both eager to see beloved friends and family, visit favorite haunts back home, and purchase some items not readily available here. Still, we are sad to pull ourselves away from our life here. We’re looking forward to a fabulous month away, and are eagerly awaiting our return to Portugal.