Well, I confess. I kind of hate being a tourist. A bit late to acknowledge this, thousands of miles away from home. More precisely, I have grown very cautious about travel and touring. What? you ask. Am I nuts?
I know, I know -- a sabbatical is a great privilege, something few people get to enjoy, once or twice in their lifetime, if at all. And I'm not complaining, well, not exactly, since I am also very grateful for these months, especially in Europe. So, let me explain.
However, it's also true, that in our times of so much and such convenient travel, we now have to brace ourselves for its pitfalls such as endless "hurry-up-then-wait" airport routines that are neither enjoyable nor instructive. Indeed, travelling outside one's own comfort zone can be as tiresome and dissipating as any other modern stressor. I can understand why, perhaps both for self-protection and in order to feel more efficient at some tasks, many travelers choose simply to stay in their own cultural bubble while "away from home," actually seeing very little of another's world and understanding practically nothing except what is already familiar.
For me, the past eight years of Congregational leadership included more zipping about our country and around the globe than I could have ever imagined. Gradually the travel itself began to get the better of me. As a result, flying across time zones and between hemispheres now holds little appeal for me. Perhaps for the same reason, neither does touring while traveling, especially where I don't speak the language at all. In any case, during sabbatical, I have intentionally avoided seeing too much too quickly. Until now.
Tossing all that reserve and caution to the wind, I joined up with Bill P -- Vincentian confrere, friend, and a seasoned, smart international traveler by the way -- in Madrid for a few days (that's himself on the right at the Zaragoza Province's guest house in central Madrid), and then for five very full days in Portugal. We arranged our stay with our confreres there, the Padres Vicentinos of the Province of Portugal, who emailed us that they were delighted to have us as their guests.
After our 50 minute EasyJet flight from Madrid to Lisboa, the first thing we learned about Lisboa is that practically no one speaks English or Spanish (tourist pamphlets notwithstanding), at least not our version of either! The second thing was that one short city block in old Lisbon -- as well as in may other villages of Portugal -- can be either horizonal or vertical. I suppose it did our hearts and legs good, all that climbing! Arriving a Lisboa at around 715 in the morning (time-zone change) we immediately set about finding our confreres, since we knew they were somewhere nearby, only a few blocks away in fact, we had a map of sorts and four or five Portuguese phrases to help with directions. The CM Provincial headquarters (Rua do Século, 152) are located in a multi-storied, rambling but nondescript residence well hidden in a historic Lisboa neighborhood, the Alto Barrio, "just a few blocks" from the even more historic city's market place. It seemed simple enough. About three hours later we succeeded, panting, drenched with sweat, and ready for the midday meal. Nothing has ever tasted better.
Bill and I had earlier agreed to allow enough time apart on our own while sharing a few definite, limited goals in Portugal: for example, a visit to the shrine at Fatima, to spend some time with the confreres, to get a taste of life in this beautiful and historic country, to share suppers and impressions and so on.We did our own exploring, particularly old, traditional Lísboa. But even with locals helping us as much as they could (without English or Spanish, remember...) just finding our way to local must-sees, such as the Castehlo San Jorge (the city's oldest castle, just another few blocks away...) and for a Sunday mass were to be our most challenging adventures. Two days later, of course, things got a lot easier.
Fatima, less than an hour away from the captal, would be packed in a week for Pope Benedict's visit, but was quiet and rather empty during our morning visit. For us, the 90 minute pilgrimage was enough for quiet prayer and plenty of photos. In fact, Fatima was only one stop in a trip that was well-planned, beginning and ending at old Lisboa's Plaça Restauradores. Our tour-guide, John, spoke excellent English; much of our nine hours together had him narrating local history for us and pointing out notable places. The day was filled with stop-and-go experiences: magnificent Atlantic coastal vistas, the famous Batahla monastery (still unfinished), a fresh seafood lunch at Nazarét (a fishing village), an hour to explore Óbidos (an ancient, multi-cultural, walled city), and other nearby places popular with studients and tourists. Those five days were enjoyable, our time well spent whether together or apart. Of course, each visitor will have his/her favorite things: I became expert on the use of Lisboa's fabulous METRO, for instance and tried about four versions of Portugal''s most famous fish dish: Bacalao (Bak-a-LAH-oh -- dried, salted, rehydrated cod that's prepared usually with vegetables) is quite good. Actually Portuguese beers and wines (and especially their portos) are great too, before, during and even in between luch and supper.
A more contemporary artist of the fado, as well as of other Portuguese music, is Mariza:
Yes, and life as a tourist can actually be wonderful! (well, sometimes!)
DPB
