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Minute by Minute: a Layover in Lisbon

11.15 AM

My flight touches down in Lisbon, Portugal!


Quick disclaimer, I was unsure if I should make this trip in light of what was then the beginnings of information about COVID-19. On the phone with my mom at the JFK airport in New York, the trip was on the fence up until I stepped onto the plane. It ended up being a sensational adventure and I am so grateful to have gotten to experience one last excursion before the entire pandemic erupted and our international world became grounded. Since returning I have sheltered in place and followed all CDC guidelines. At the time of this trip, there were not yet CDC instructions discouraging travel to Portugal or Germany.


12.00

Almost an hour into waiting for customs I make friends with the people around me in line. They turn out to be incredibly interesting. I wish I had reached out earlier - this hour may not have felt so long.


12.15

Oh, Europe, how I've missed you! There was something so indescribable and appealing and European that hit me when I left the airport. Maybe it was the cobblestone streets or figuring out the metro on my own or being surrounded by a foreign language or solo traveling again. Whatever it was, my first 30 seconds standing outside in Lisbon, Portugal re-centered me in a way that pleasantly reminded me of an old, not quite long lost, friend.


12.30

Of course, Portugal's culture is different in many ways than what I am used to in the US, but the fashion differences are what initially caught my attention, especially on my first metro ride. Lisbon's unspoken dress code is similar to what I became accustomed to while studying abroad, but it has been over a year since then and my Americanized eyes saw drastic differences between the style of the Portuguese people around me and my own. Admittedly, my outfit was geared towards maximum comfort and flexibility, as I was traveling continuously for 24 hours, but I do wear it frequently at home.

On that initial train ride, I noticed that:

  1. Everybody was wearing or carrying coats!! It was at least 21° C (70° F) and I was boiling in a tank top.

  2. Nobody was showing skin. Like at all. Everyone was very modestly dressed (from the point of my world view at least).

  3. Nobody was wearing leggings.

  4. Nobody was wearing any athleisure.

  5. No one had headphones in (coincidence on this train? This surprised me a lot.)

  6. Lots of people were wearing masks? Is this going to be a thing? (as of March 12th, there were 169 confirmed cases of Coronavirus in Portugal with a population of 10.3 million)

  7. Despite the masks, I observed many people resting their chin in their hands, wiping their nose, scratching their cheeks. The Corona pandemic has made me hyper aware of people touching their faces.

  8. Seriously, how are people not overheating wearing these huge coats?!

  9. No open-toed shoes.

  10. No tank tops (expect for one Finnish person I met).

** Edit: this was only my first ride on the metro and the majority of people at that time were middle aged and clearly upper/middle class. In subsequent metro trips and walking around different neighborhoods, the attire for people my age (20's) was much more casual and revealing. I still didn't see any leggings, but there were plenty of midriffs. **


13.00

Left the metro, walked to Gardin Garcia de Orta and saw some tourists taking photos pretending to ride an electric scooter, which gave me a laugh (these things are everywhere in the states and, in my opinion, a huge nuisance).


13.15

Made it onto the Telecabine. It was so delightful to be able to relax and enjoy the view without worrying about my bags- and for only 4 euro round trip!


13.45

Back onto the metro en route to the botanical gardens. If you have read any of my previous blog posts, my impression of a city is disproportionately affected by the ambience and grandeur of the botanical gardens. Fortunately, I am easily pleased with plants and have never disliked a city whose gardens I have visited.


14.00

I had a plan. And I had a theoretically unwavering resolution to stick to the plan. Step One (get out of the airport and buy a metro pass) and Step Two (ride the telecabine de Lisboa) were complete. Even so, when I got out of the metro for the second time and started walking around I remembered that attempts to set a plan while discovering a new place are often feeble; this proved to be one such example.

In theory, the idea was to locate an American hotel to see if I could sneak in to the lobby to charge my phone, store my heavy bags, and get some WiFi to let my family know I was doing ok (this has worked for me in Europe before - in retrospect, my confidence was inflated, but more on that later).

En route to the hotel I saw the cutest bakery. Walking by it I thought to myself 'I wish I could have a croissant, if only I didn’t have to stick to this plan'. It took about 10 steps farther for me to stop and realize that there was literally nothing sticking me to this plan. I could have a croissant! I could have twelve croissants! There is nothing stopping me from sitting and eating a croissant outside of a cute cafe on a sunny day in Lisbon, Portugal. So I did (eat 1 croissant, twelve is excessive, and I am still a college student on a budget after all).

14.15

I sat and did nothing but eat my croissant and listen to the people walking by me speaking Portuguese.

14.20

I saw an old lady walking by in slow motion. I actually took a video because I found her juxtaposition to the busy world moving all around her comical. She started crossing the street right when it changed to walk, the timer ran out before she was halfway through, and the light went through a full cycle and back to the walk sign before she finished crossing. The cars waiting seemed frustrated, but no one honked.


14.25

One thing I forgot about Europe: soo much cigarette smoke.


14.30

How is everyone wearing these huge coats? Have they noticed the weather??


14.35

Left the cafe 15 minutes after the slow motion lady was out of sight and caught up to her in 30 seconds. I wanted to offer assistance without confusing her (I don’t speak Portuguese), so I gesture-asked a lady at a flower stand if she was ok and she stopped to talk with her. Couldn't tell you what they said, but they walked off together.


14.45

Walked 2 blocks and 10 minutes before I realized I was going the wrong way. I had forgotten to download an offline map on my phone, so I was basing my navigating off of the map I saw in the metro. Very few landmarks coupled with absolutely no innate sense of direction whatsoever and the fact that I did not actually know where I had gone wrong (was the croissant cafe even supposed to be on my way?).There was little hope of me finding the American hotel.


14.46

Moments later I realized that my all-day unlimited public transportation pass had fallen out of my leggings pocket.


14.47

After walking a couple blocks behind men smoking cigarettes I remembered why I like plans. My bags were getting exponentially heavier with each step (especially the duffel, which was slung around my neck), my feet hurt, my shoulder was sore, and no hotel was in sight.


14.48

I turned a corner and saw a Sheraton! It wasn’t the hotel I had found on the map, but I recognized the brand and locked my eyes on it like a lost traveler who thinks they see an oasis. I knew I was walking towards it, but I swear it was not getting any closer. Morale was low.


14.55

At long last (well, 7 minutes later) I reached the Sheraton! Entering the lobby, the wall of air conditioning was like a glass of cool water. It felt like home. I threw my bags off my shoulder and looked around for a bellboy with keys to the luggage room and a look that could be persuaded with the five euro note sitting in my pocket.


15.00

The staff at the Sheraton would have absolutely none of me sitting and charging my phone, nor borrowing their WiFi, much less leave my bags there for a couple hours (despite my charming persona and five euro note, they had figured out very quickly that I was not a guest and were ornery about adhering to policy). Their inhospitable feelings faded as they realized that my intentions were merely naive. The strictest one softened and gave me a free map where she had circled all the public lockers available in the city. It was unbelievably kind of her. Unfortunately, none of the public lockers were even close to where we were or where I wanted to go next. The only solution? I would have to keep carrying my bags. At this point I was really wishing I had stuck to my plan.


15.05

Determined to see the botanical gardens, I buckled down and started walking. Sightseeing helped distract me from the growing weight on my shoulders, and I eyed an interestingly shaped building trying to figure out what was inside. On a whim, I went in. Just my luck- a hostel! Undaunted by my unsuccessful Sheraton experience, I approached the girl at the front desk with my five euro and shamelessly confided that I wasn’t staying there but needed a place to keep a bag for an hour. She smiled, waved away my money, told me not to worry, took my bags, and gave me a ticket to claim them whenever I was ready. Note to self: DO NOT lose this ticket.


15.06

FREEDOM AT LAST! My steps became a thousand times lighter and I practically skipped down the street to a big park. I laid in the grass, did some handstands and tumbled a bit before coming up with a new, more relaxed plan that did not involve the botanical gardens but did involve exploring the area around the hostel, buying a single use metro pass, and getting to the airport with plenty of time to spare. It was sensible, practical, and exactly what I needed.


A woman literally unencumbered by baggage

15.10

Exploring around Edward the Seventh's park (Parque Eduardo VII) completely opened up Lisbon for me. I took a long lap around the garden to the top where the Monument of April 25th stands. The Carnation Revolution, which took place April 25th, 1974, was the day that a military coup in Lisbon overthrew the authoritarian Estado Novo regime. The gardens accentuate the monument, which accentuate a view of the ocean in a sumptuously noble scene.


16.00

I desperately wanted to stay. My heart was insisting my flight didn’t leave for another 3 hours, but my weary feet were demanding that I sit down and my aching shoulders were a persistent reminder that I still had a long day of travel facing me. The wings of my imagination were aloft, each new sight presented 3 more ideas for exploration. It’s such a beautiful city, and I was feeling incredibly present, so it was a struggle to admit to myself that it simply can not be properly explored in the span of a 7 hour layover. This seems obvious now, however, while swept up in the whimsy of independence and the indulgence of a crusade for my travel-addicted persona, it took a serious mental conversation to swing my bags back around my neck and start the trek back to the airport.


17.00

Luckily for me, and I am so incredibly lucky, my next stop was Germany, a completely new country to me, and Eva, my study abroad best friend, and more promise of an intoxicating, stunning escapade. Security was a breeze, my entire body thanked me for not having to rush through the airport to get to my gate, and social distancing rules due to coronavirus gave me an entire row on the plane to myself. I stretched out, rested my sore muscles, blinked, and landed safely in Germany.





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