Chapter Two: Off to Portugal

The morning came quick and hard. When I had mentioned pillow talk, I meant it. There wasn't just a little bit of it. It stretched on for hours. Catching up on everything that had happened in the past six months. Stories were shared, laughter erupted - it just all felt right - except for when the alarm started going off at 7am.

You see, we had a very important place to be that morning - school. It was one of the biggest moments of the year, the Christmas Spectacular at Paige's school! Grades 1 - 6 were going to perform in the auditorium a slew of holiday songs, both in Spanish and English. I was a bit apprehensive walking into the school, unsure of what to expect, especially being a foreigner to the establishment. But my fears were immediately smashed as I was greeted with numerous kisses on the cheek and firm handshakes.

It was clear how highly everyone regarded Paige and I received the same treatment for simply being her friend. Walking through the school, I was pleased to meet all the faculty, many of which pulled me into their classrooms to speak to the students. Excuse me for not explaining before - this was an english language school, so by being another American, I was used as an example and a brief lesson. But of course, being the idiot I am, I answered the first few question in Spanish, to which both Paige and the others teachers snickered, before explaining to me that it would be to the students' benefits to speak English.

Duh.

It was absolutely adorable. I was asked everything I would have wondered at their age. The most often asked?

Was I Paige's novio (boyfriend)? Nope.

What was my favorite color? Orange.

Where was I from? California.

What is my favorite food? Pizza.

My favorite sport? Tennis.

How old was I? Of course I had them guess and heard answers everywhere from 18 to 35. But the closest came in at 23.

Did I have any siblings? Yes.

What was my favorite animal? Dog.

I was amazed at how genuinely enthused and curious the students were. Sure, I would have been too, but I also know as a child I was shy and probably wouldn't have jumped at the chance to ask a classroom guest a question.

After making our rounds, we finally crammed into the auditorium and soaked in the show. Now let me say, the pageantry was just out of this world. The costumes, the background decorations, every student participating. It was phenomenal. I loved the English versions of all the songs, ranging from Santa Baby, to Noel, and Santa Clause is Coming to Town. During the show, I was even treated to traditional sugar and lard cookies and schnapps by the teachers (yup - some booze early in the morning - just like back at Ithaca). It really was a perfect start to the trip. Good company, good environment and a hundred cute little kids.

Of course I was sad to leave to school and wished I had more time there to interact with everyone, but Portugal was calling, so off we went to pick up our rental car.

Now luckily, I had set up the car rental back while I was still in the states. I wasn't guaranteed a certain type of car, but there were certain requirements that the paperwork said needed to be met. It was to be a manual (thank god I had been practicing), have air conditioning, and have at least two doors - economy style all the way. When we arrived at Europcar, I was surprised how smoothly the paperwork went and how quickly the keys and GPS were in our possession.  Walking out into the rental lot, we were curious what kind of car we would find in our assigned spot. Low and behold, it was a Fiat 500, which Paige rightfully dubbed "Ruby." And damn, I'll give that girl credit - she may have looked like a toy, but bitch was sporty.

I'll admit that Ruby and I didn't immediately get off on the right foot. I stalled a couple times simply trying to leave the space as I tried to get a feel for her clutch. When I finally did manage to pull out, I did so by running over the curb and of course she let me know of her displeasure by the smell of her burning clutch. Next, I took a wrong turn and came to a dead end in the parking lot - but of course we couldn't figure out how to get it in reverse. So I sat there, scratching my head for a couple minutes. Finally I realized that a piece of the gear shift needed to be lifted before it'd fall into reverse.

Duh.

So finally situated and with the address plugged in, we made our way to Portugal. It wasn't a fast drive - taking over 5 hours - but the scenery was breathtaking. Swaths of fields that stretched as far as the eye could see. Rolling hills. Rows and rows of olive trees. Clouds that hung lazily in the air. When the sun finally fell from the sky, I was disappointed to lose site of everything.

Pulling into Lisbon was amazing. We had to cross an enormous bridge to enter the city and everything seemed so large and bright compared to the countryside we had just driven through. It truly was a sight to behold. By some stroke of luck, we found parking literally outside of the apt we had rented for the weekend and checked in with our host and immediately went out exploring. The first night was just wandering around the city and soaking it in. Paige had mentioned that Lisbon was like the European version of San Fran and I couldn't agree more. The hills. The fog. The general feeling of the people. Everything felt spot on, even the fact that they had built a replica of the Golden Gate Bridge over their bay.

The next day was much of the same, exploring and being shown around by Paige, who had previously visited the city a year or two prior. We walked up and down the streets, through all the larger plazas, rode the trolly cars (so totally an older San Fran), noshed on some amazing seafood. All was right in the world. I had fallen completely in love with Lisbon. For any of you who know my love of Paris, know Lisbon is now equal to, if not above in my heart. If I had more guts, more money, and spoke the language, I'd have no qualms about packing up and moving there right now. It is that amazing.

That night we ate out at a restaurant that welcomed amateur Fado singers inside to perform. Now, for any of you who don't know what Fado is - it is a type of singing that originated in Lisbon and is characterized by mournful lyrics, often about the sea or lost loved ones. So as Paige and I sat there, eating our seafood dishes (some sort of white fish over rice and monk fish stew), different people were coming up and singing, accompanied by two guitarists who were sitting literally right next to us, one table over. I can't speak Portuguese, but man, could I feel the emotion in these songs - right down to my core. It was amazing. I was transfixed. It was one of the most enlightening experiences of my life. The purity of everyone's voice, their passion pouring out. It was some seriously powerful stuff. Best moment of the night? When one of the two older women who ran/cooked in the kitchen came out and blew us all away with her voice. I'm talkin' blew us away. No words can describe her vibrato. She was absolutely phenomenal. Bellies full and hearts heavy, we found our way back through the cobblestone streets to our apartment and passed out.

Before we left the next day, Paige made sure we took a tram over to Belem so I could have their world famous pastries. Man. Custard, custard, custard. These little bastards were so good. I could have easily eaten six or seven and felt like absolute death, but I'm glad I only put down two. By the time they had settled in my stomach, I was happy with my decision - those suckers were heavy. And the whole time, while I was struggling with the weight of each individual pastry, Paige was drinking this chocolate concoction that was literally like pudding when you mix it over the stove. No, I'm not just talking about the flavor - I'm talking about the consistency. This stuff was thick. Viscous. But my god, was it good. I couldn't imagine putting that in my stomach as well, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't impressed with her for eating the pastries and drinking the chocolate sludge. Fine job if I do say so myself.

Once we got back fro Belem, it was time to head back home to Seville. Driving out over the Golden Gate, I felt like I was leaving a piece of me in Lisbon. I can't recall another city other than San Fran that I grew to attached to in such a short period of time.

Everything had been perfect.

And the best part was it was only three days into my trip.