Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts
Showing posts with label happiness. Show all posts

Monday, October 8, 2018

A Week in Lisbon! What To Do?

7 Days in Lisbon

We had a week to get away; we had wanted to go to Lisbon for years. I wanted a place I wouldn't skip on my marathon training schedule; we couldn't break the bank. Let's go: a week in Lisbon!

What can you do for 7 days in Lisbon? You can have the time of your life! Food, art, romance, friendship, beauty, and running. A week in Lisbon here we come!!!

We went in late January, during the deep freeze in our home town of Montreal. We wore our winter jackets and needed them for the first few days, and on our crazy trip to the coast. Some days were pleasantly warm, and we shedded layers. I always ran in my capris and a t-shirt... but generally the weather was cool in Lisbon - check out the southern European winter.

Day One

We arrived before dawn.


I found a lucky charm on the floor as we arrived and I knew we were going to have fun ... our trip started out with a funny turn ... we were relaxed and happy as we landed in deep fog, and we decided against rushing off the plane with the rest of the passengers, so we missed the bus! Got special transport with the crew, and listened to the pilot talk about how difficult the landing was. Hmmm...

We love to travel! We booked an Airbnb that wasn't going to be ready until noon. No problem, we thought, until we walked around town for too long with our bags (het, just duffle bags but still bags), got chilled in the wind, and wished we had know about the various left luggage storage spots in Lisbon. Then we could've visited a museum or a bookshop and relaxed in the warmth ...

At noon


We were finally allowed into our apartment and it was lovely!!!



Four flights up these beautiful stairs (just the right cool-down after a run through this amazing runner's paradise!), a little hideaway with a balcony where we could watch the city from dawn through twilight. And also a place where the firemen could visit (twice!) so they could secure the large piece of metal siding that was blowing off the roof next door!

After getting settled, we set off to explore Alfama, which is the oldest and very beautiful past of Lisbon. The Alfama is a maze of tiny streets, stairs and close-set houses. It is the oldest part of Lisbon, and survived the 1755 earthquake mostly intact. It is said that it used to be the red light district during that time, and during the 15th century it housed the Jewish population of Lisbon. We wandered around, got completely lost, and wandered back. After doing some groceries close to the apartment, made a lovely dinner and went to bed early.

Day Two

Saturday we relaxed! It's so easy to relax in a place where people still go out for a morning walk. Coffee shops were full and people were eating the traditional Portugese pastry (the Pastel de Nata is a tiny custard tart) with their coffees. No one sitting alone on their laptops, but people of all ages chatting, eating and having a regular Saturday morning.



Our r and r was only disturbed once with the unlikely event of the doorbell ringing. I looked out of the window and saw the neighbours pointing at our house. My husband ran downstairs, opened the door, and a herd of firemen rushed in, onto the balcony and on to the roof. One of them fell back down on to the balcony; I thought I was going to have to do first aid. They fixed the sheet metal, said "buon appetito" in Portugese, and left us to enjoy our lunch.

The day was full of walks, yummy home-cooked food, chocolate, red wine (Portugese wine is good!), naps, then dinner out (4 out of 10, sadly, a little vegan place. I don't know how they got a 4.5 on Google, perhaps because the staff was so pleasant).

Day 3

A perfect day! First, a run. Let me tell you about running in Lisbon ... in a word, amazing!!

Lots of hills, stairs, flat if you want, many runners out on the roads (and everyone waves or at least nods). I was in the middle of a marathon training plan, so I had a great chance to cover my week's worth of training sessions in a warmer, hillier place. I went out for a 13 k early Sunday morning. Lovely! And very warm compared to the 13 k I did the week before!

After my super morning run, we decided to get the tram to Belem, which is just outside Lisbon and houses a Marine Museum we wanted to visit. Sadly, it was closing by the time we got there so we consulted our trusty guide book (Rough Guide to Lisbon) and discovered a treasure! The Berardo Museum is a beautiful building that houses art from every era! It is a pleasure to visit, and very affordable. We wandered around the museum for hours.

At closing time, we went for a drink in the bar just behind the museum. It was perfect! There were a few tourists there, like us, and there were also smart-looking older Portugese couples who were out for their pre-dinner evening drink or coffee. We sat for a while and weirdly I had a craving for cider so we had a very good apple cider (British). Then of course I went to look for the bathroom (yes this is relevant). With scarcely-understood directions, I first walked into the cleaning closet, and then I went down a hall and found myself in a pizza/sushi bar! (And I found the well-appointed washrooms...).

Off for dinner!

This is a cool little spot with a great wood-oven pizza menu, and a huge selection of sushi. We chose pizza and beer, and it was sublime! At the end of the evening we rolled out of the restaurant and took a tram home. In Lisbon, as in most of southern Europe (except France! They put their kids to bed pronto, no messing around), families, couples, people of all generations tend to be out late. The tram was packed and we were happy.

Speaking of trams, and crowds. Do be careful of thieves in Lisbon! Our friend (who lives there!) was robbed while we were chatting with her in a cafe - her bag was on the floor, she was preoccupied with her young child and with our conversation, and two men next to us got their hands into her purse and made off with her wallet. (Same thing happened here in Montreal to a customer at my cafe: put your bag in full view and keep your eyes on it!)

Day 4

On Monday we had a lazy morning and decided to go for a stroll. We wandered through the Alfama again ... and found ourselves near the center of town next to the Casa dos Bicos, which is a strange building with spikes on the outside... So many of the buildings in Lisbon are beautifully tiled, some with patterned colored tiles, others with plain white or a lighter color, some with intricate designs. This 16th century building really stands out, partly because it is strikingly ugly compared to the tiled beauty that surrounds it. The building houses a tribute to the famous Portugese writer Jose Saramago. (I bought one of his books and found it pretty heavy reading.)

We continued along the waterfront and explored the main market, which was disappointing. (But check out Day 7 and you'll see why!) The fish stalls were all closed, there were a few sad-looking vegetables and a tourist stall. We went for coffee instead, and sat outside in the sun chatting about the things you chat about when you've been together for over 35 years... kids, the meaning of life, hegemony and what it means, what to have for dinner tonight, you know...

We spent the rest of the morning wandering around central Lisbon. Check out the artisanal shoe stores. The shoes are made with soft leather, and the price is right! Take a stroll down to the waterfront, and then walk through the Praça do Comércio and up one of the shop-lined streets to the Chiado area of town.

I love books, reading, and bookshops.

On most of my trips I try to find one book to take home and read, to remind me of my trip. I loved the look of this little bookstore:



But I was very excited to find mention in my guide book of the oldest still-operating bookshop! I was so excited to go in! And there on the wall, kind of in a place of honor, they were showcasing "Mein Kampf". Yes, fascism is definitely on the rise in Europe. I remember in Pontremoli a few years ago at their yearly literary fair, the Premio Bancarella they had also decided to keep several copies of this hateful book on their shelves. I sent my husband to guard the door and threw them under the table. Not being a smoker any more, I couldn't do a real direct action protest by setting them on fire, so I threw them harshly in the hopes they would tear. Not possible in this upscale bookshop so I left quickly and muttered angry comments under my breath.

"Is the world in the hands of those who have the courage to dream and take the risk of living their dreams?"

Sunset

As I was angrily steaming up the hill, it was getting dark and my husband realized it might be time for a drink. We walked up to the top of the hill, and found ourselves a little outside bar at the top of one of the many elevators that take people to the top of the town. The Bellalisa Elevador houses a large outdoor restaurant, but there is a bar outside where you can sit and have a drink and look out at the view. Perfect! We had one drink and then realized we were having such a good time we needed one more for the walk home. It was lovely!

On our way home, we passed a huge church with no roof. We discovered this was the Carmo Convent, beneath which was the centre of the giant earthquake of 1755 that destroyed most of the city. The earthquake took place on All Saint's Day (Nov 1), and much religious speculation was made of it. The area that suffered the least damage was the Alfama, which is said to have been the red light district ("why did God save the prostitutes?") or the Jewish area ("why did God save the Jews?"). Here's an interesting article suggesting that the earthquake rattled people into thinking more seriously about atheism.



Of course, us being us, as we walked arm in arm back to our place (a much longer walk than we expected), we discussed all this and more, and stopping at times to make a point, and stopping at one point on the top of a hill next to a beautiful piazza to listen to a 5-piece band play covers!!!



And home for a late dinner. With a bottle of good red wine, delivered to our door by the amazing Dima Peyroteo of the Wine Museum. We found him online, ordered a case of wine and port, and he was at our door within the day! The port was very good too. Porto Quevedo Ruby, a full-tasting port without the sweetness that some fortified wines have.

Day 5

After a busy day on Day 4, we decided to take it easy on our fifth day in Lisbon, especially since we had another busy day planned for Day 6! I went for a fast run up and down some hills around the apartment, and along the way I noticed in passing a huge outdoor market. I looked it up when I got home and found the Fiera da Ladra is a huge flea market that is only open on Tuesdays and Saturdays, and closes at 2pm! Luckily my husband was busy cooking when I got in from my run, so we ate and went back out.

The Fiera da Ladra (thieves' market!) is part flea market, part junk shop and part artisanal fair. It stretches for a few streets along the top of the Alfama, around the Campo de Santa Clara. We browsed through old books, postcards, lamps, LPs, you name it. I bought a pair of earrings, a hand-made leather belt, several fridge magnets. There were lots of broken conversations with people, mixing English, Portugese, Italian and hand gestures to create the illusion that we were actually conversing, and in a way we were.

As the blankets and mats were being rolled up and the fiera started to disperse, we walked back down the hill to the centre of Lisbon by the waterfont. We stopped for coffee where the owner gave us a free pastry that was so good I could've probably eaten twenty more! It was, he explained, a traditional walnut cake. Whatever it was, it was delicious.

Window-shopping

I have to confess, although I do enjoy wearing pretty clothes, and I do love a new pair of running shoes or a running skirt, and of course I love all stores paper-oriented - bookshops, stationary stores and the like .... my biggest love is a good old-fashioned hardware store. I'm not talking Home Depot here, where you can buy anything from a hundred sheets of drywall to a giant bar of chocolate. I mean a small, down-home, hardware store.


When you look in the window and you see this. Twenty different sizes and shapes of machetes, each with their own purpose. You can find a wood stove; pruning shears; a copper and glass still; glue; locks and keys; screws and hammers. No chocolate. No drywall. I can spend hours in a small hardware store, not buy anything at all, and come out happy. In a clothing store, on the other hand, I could also spend hours but I usually think most of the clothing is ugly and then I feel ugly when I leave. I am an old hippie, essentially, with very expensive tastes. I went to the Balenciaga fashion exhibit here in Montreal last week and now I want an original Balenciaga... yip. Oh, by the way, if you are super incredibly rich, please visit Storytailors in Lisbon and buy a fantasy dress.

So anyway we visited a wonderful hardware store and bought a couple of fun things. A machete. Stuff like that.

Day 6

Off to the beach! After almost a week in Lisbon we were looking forward to seeing the countryside. We did our research and planned to go to Guincho beach for the day. We read that there were restaurants all along the waterfront, so we went after breakfast and planned to have lunch there. "The train departs from the Cais do Sodré train station in Lisbon (green metro line). The train journey is 30 minutes and a single ticket costs €2.15. It is a 200 m walk from the Cascais train station to the bus station, which is below the Cascais Villa shopping centre." Super easy directions and we were at the beach by mid-morning. Public transport in Lisbon and surrounding areas is fantastic! Clean, fast, easy to use.

The coast line is beautiful!! No, this is not a stock picture; I took it from the road above the beach. The beach itself stretches for about a kilometer; we walked almost to the end and back but it was COLD and there was a biting wind. I wore my winter coat but took my socks and shoes off to enjoy the sand.



But the crazy thing was, we picked the best day ever to visit the beach! The waves were huge! Magnificent, pounding, scary waves. You could see dark blue underneath as each waves rose and crashed down. It was insane surfers' paradise!

We walked a meter or so at a time and then just stopped to stare at the waves and listen to the crashing. Big Waves catching them on video doesn't do justice - they look like nice, body-surfable waves. But here's proof:

Lunch

We were getting cold; teeth-chattering with the exhilaration and the freezing wind. Time for lunch! We hiked up to the first place (see that fortress-looking place in the picture?). Turns out this was where they shot some of the sequences for a James Bond film. In the lobby there are photos of Very Famous People. Lunch was going to cost as much as our Airbnb.

We took a stroll down the road and soon realized (after a couple of kilometers) that this was Rich People's lane. Lots of fancy cars, fancy looking restaurants and menus that started at 80 Euros. Back to the beach. I found a packet of cookies and an orange in my bag. We snuggled down in between two rocks and ate our lunch. Hiking up to the bus, though, we found a lovely coffee shop in the dunes. We sat outside, shielded from the wind with a large plexiglass window. The view was stunning; the staff were friendly (as always).

We raced up to the bus stop and of course got slightly lost. Got to the train station late so we picked up a Sue Grafton novel at the kiosk, and weirdly found out that she had just died. Home again, big pasta dinner, lots of red wine, sleep...

Day 7

Our last day in Lisbon! Our week in Lisbon was almost over. The great thing about a really good vacation is that you're sad to leave...

A nice morning run along the waterfront (you can run for about 15 k from Cais do Sodre all the way to Belem) was followed by a long walk through the town. We were supposed to meet with someone in the early afternoon so we had lots of time to enjoy the city. It's fun when you have someone to meet up with in a new place who knows the fun spots ... but it was great meeting up with her after we had already spent a week exploring on our own. But this wasn't a friend who we had known forever or someone we knew super well. Just the good friend of a close friend of ours, from back when our kids were small. But she's our kids' age, so she has a small child.

On any given day at my cafe  you will find people of all ages enjoying the food and each other's company, or just sitting by themselves and working. In the front you'll see people meeting for work; at the bigger tables there will be larger groups eating together; on the couches you'll often see a group of mothers with their babies or toddlers. The mums will be chatting and nursing their babies (everyone needs to eat right?), and the small children will be playing with the in-house toys. Everyone gets along.

Here in our busy culture we have a tendency to divide people into groups - not only in our bigger cultural picture but even in one person's life. The older friend of a friend who visits must be given a half hour and tea. The friend can't have dinner with the husband around. Children are not welcome and certainly not nursing babies. In other countries its different. When we first moved to Italy the people we met were astounded that we put the kids to bed at seven. Whoever heard of such nonsense? It would mean that we would have to be home every night at seven!!

We met with our friend and her child in a beautiful spot at the top of the Edward VII Park. This is a typically sculpted park that stretches down the hill so that from the top you eyes follow the length of the park and then move to the rest of Lisbon. We sat at a pretty outdoor cafe next to the pond and had coffee and chatted about pretty much everything. Then the pickpocket thing happened. We realized then ran around the park looking in garbage cans, then down through a nearby mall (the only shopping mall in Lisbon apparently. No luck. She called her mum and they went to the police station. I figured it was ciao ciao and see you in a few years.

Nope, not in Lisbon. We made a plan: she would go to the police station, then pick up her husband and we would meet for dinner at 7pm. In the meantime, we spent our last day in this beautiful city wandering around, climbing the hills, checking out the little stores. Just before sunset we found ourselves at a little bar on the waterfront, drinks in hand, sitting next to the sea wall and watching the sun set over the Tagus. Perfect!


Best vegan food around!

We arrived at the Vegan Food Project before seven and there was already a lineup! They take traditional Portugese recipes and recreate them with all plant-based ingredients. The ambience is perfect; children are welcome; the service is friendly but professional. As a cafe owner myself I appreciate a quality business, where the food is excellent, the kitchen is clean and the employees are happy. They are located in the Chiado district, which has a bustling night life, and it's best if you reserve a table as they are packed! Open for lunch and dinner, and closed during the afternoon.

We ate magnificently, and we still thought our lovely friends would be heading home. Nope! Now we were going to a small bar ... it's closed, okay, off to the market! Remember the market we were so disappointed by? Well, at night it transforms into the Lisbon TimeOut Market and it is a hoot! It's like a giant traditional market, food court, night club and pub all rolled into one. There are food stalls of every variety. We had beer and desserts (of course!). There are young people out for the evening; families with small children; friends eating with great concentration; older couples sauntering about. Stalls sell souvenirs, port, sausages, custard pies... sushi, pizza, seafood, burgers, all excellent and hand-picked by the TimeOut big shots.

Music. There's a DJ. Lights. Picnic tables. Finally we realized we were all ready for bed so we left the market, took one last stroll around the waterfront, and headed home to pack and prepare for our early morning departure.

Day 8

We were slowly packing away our stuff and doing all the things weary travellers do the night before a 5am taxi. Check-in. What clothes to leave out? Fragile gift - is it going to break? Is that machete we bought going to rip up our clothes? So tired, just want to get to bed already. Suddenly there was an ear-splitting bell ringing and banging on the door four stories below. We ran down. And up, followed by firemen. More drama with the sheet metal. They ran onto our balcony, climbed on the roof and spent a good half an hour trying to attach it to something.

Finally, they left, with this parting remark: "Three best things about Lisbon: the food, the friendly people, and the best firemen in the world!"

Our week in Lisbon was a resounding success! We'll be back!

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

My Personal Best: Training for A Marathon


The Hypothermic?

A couple of weeks ago I ran a race aptly titled the Hypothermic Half Marathon. I'm training for a marathon now, and I'm well past the half-way mark, and my long runs are long ... so I figured I would like some company for this one, so I registered and ran.

It was fun! I chopped nine minutes off my previous Half Marathon speed (2:24:21 from 2:33:31 if you're interested). I had a hoot! I started off right next to the 2:30 bunny but I realized I was able to go faster and steadier on my own, so I did! But a couple of other women in my category ran faster than me, so I ended up third. But as the oldest woman in the race (over 500 people) I did well.

So? Why do I do this? Why do I run and train and sweat, and then write about it?

Reasons Why I Am Training For A Marathon

One main reason: because I CAN. And don't get me wrong, I'm not ignoring those who CAN'T. In fact, I think about them every day. I think about my cousin Becky, whose every day must be a marathon. I think about the Syrians I met last year, who spend their time figuring out how to rebuild their lives. I think about women everywhere who are too scared, too sick, too busy, too sad to go outside and play, and I've decided, after a lifetime of dedication to caring for and helping those less privileged than I, that I am gonna run to my heart's content, and hope that my happiness fills the world and makes it a better place. (Check this out if you really want to make a difference!)

Other reasons too:

because, weirdly, running teaches me about life. Training for a marathon actually shows me how better to live my life. How does that work? I have a goal these days, and that it to run 26 miles FAST. To get there, to succeed, I have to plan. I have to be determined, and dedicated, and disciplined. I have to sleep, eat, and drink right. I have to do my short runs and my long run every week, without fail, unless I'm injured or sick.

And how on earth do I do that?

With a cafe to run, a family to care for, a house to keep clean, and an online business to grow (so that I can start my nomad life in a few years, but more on that in a bit). Oh, and did I mention I'm hosting a Retreat this summer? So, yes, training for a marathon has allowed me to understand that there's one thing that makes the difference, given that the physical playing field remains the same (I am not sick, injured, or living in a dangerous place, or without food), and that is my attitude. The way I look at my life, or my training, or my family, husband, my cafe, my running buddies, even my dog, or my bank account ... the way I look at everything colours how I can perform. Not just at a race, but behind the counter at my cafe, on the phone with a student, hanging out on the couch with my husband.

Zen of Running?

What is this magical way, then, Yoda? It is the way of the run: to take one step after the first, and then the next and the next. To be fully conscious of the steps, of the way your body moves, how it fits into the space around it. Is my body tall and light? Am I crouching down? What is hurting? How can I fix it? Where is my breath? I need to breath slowly and surely ... in ... out ... in ... step ... step ... step ...

This weird and frivolous hobby has taught me that to be in the moment and to love what you are doing when you're in it, is the key to happiness.

Other reasons why I am Training for a Marathon: I love how my legs are getting bigger and bigger.

Secret Club

Also, I have discovered a secret club that I am now a member of. It's the club of other people like me who love to run. We love to play, and speed our bodies around town or country. It's a club where, even though I'm 61, and I don't wear Lululemon, and I don't go that fast ... when I pass a runner in Montreal, Toronto, Lisbon, Italy .... Greece ... we give each other the secret nod and let each other know we know. It's a club where I can chat about long run nutrition for at least a half hour to someone I've never met.

And don't forget the bling! When I'm running a race, people I don't know high-five me. "You got this! Oui, Madame!" At the end, I get my lovely medal, and feel great, and that sense of accomplishment fills my heart. I know I've done something. Nothing too controversial, or too demanding, like getting involved with refugee politics, or being a midwife, or trying to change the world. Just a race, one step at a time, one breath at a time, one smile at a time.

Friday, August 4, 2017

Happiness

It was field hockey at a grammar school in east London that turned my mother off organized sports, and I inherited her dislike of all things “gym” for many years. The good news was that I grew up close to the Rockies and so spent much of my spare time hiking in those lovely mountains, running up and down trails like a mountain goat.

I also played the clarinet, and for fun my music teacher would get us to lie down and put heavy dictionaries on our bellies and teach us to breathe with our diaphragms. As an adult I kept myself fit: for many years I hauled cement, small children, water and wood and as we renovated and ran an old farm in Italy.

But years later, I started running. My sister took me for a run one day and I was hooked! I had run a little before then, around a park, wearing unsuitable clothing and big old tennis shoes. In 2012, just after my father died, I went for my first real run. In 2014, after my mother also passed away, I decided to try a race. In 2015 I ran my first half and since then I have run several races, and I try to run at least two or three times a week. I did a half last year on my 60th, beating my PR by four minutes at 2:33.

Its not quantity that matters, though, with running.  That’s the beauty of the sport. Its what you do with it, how you incorporate running into your life, and what you learn from those hours on your own or with friends, moving quickly through your world, conscious of every footfall.

Everything I’ve learned running can be applied to life itself.

What have I learned?

I learned about gratitude. I’ve learned that every run is a gift; my health is a gift; every full breath I take is a gift.

I’ve learned to accept my body, which I used to look upon with disappointment and disdain. It may not be perfect, but its still running after all these years!

I learned about competition. Every runner has a competitive streak, even if you’re just competing against yourself. Healthy competition is good; comparing yourself constantly against an ideal or another person is useless.

I learned about play. Running is fun! It’s great to run through the world, by myself or with my friends or my dog. Loving what I see and what I feel.

I learned discipline. The act of lacing my shoes and piling on the layers, when it is -16 outside and a light snow blowing can be an act of defiance. Running that extra few kilometers when I’m done and I want to eat and drink is a lesson. I can use that strength when life is not going exactly the way I want it to. I can breathe and keep my mouth shut and think good thoughts.

And I’ve learned that its not “running” that taught me: it was me! I ran all those kilometers, I trained my self to be disciplined about it, I worked on strength and speed, I got up early to run before work. I rested when I had to, and learned to eat better.



The biggest lesson, though, has been about happiness. You take it where you can find it, just like you go for a run wherever and whenever you can. And guess what, I’m happy!   

Monday, March 14, 2016

Grateful for Home


Home is where the heart is. Over the years, we have built a few homes here and there. I've had the pleasure of learning how to build, alongside my husband. I've knocked down stone walls, built them up, placed large chestnut beams, tiled floors, and watched him work wonders with plumbing, electricals and the less fun side of building, like drywall and plaster. I'm not so great at masonry but it just takes practice.

Home is also the smell of baked bread, laughter, the wood stove, everyone yelling at each other, music, babies crying, the silence when everyone is asleep except for a newborn and a suckling mother, the ringing of phones and excitement when a big family visit is planned.

We've had big fights at home. We've cried, been desperate, lost people, broken things, had bad things happen. But its still our home, and I am so grateful to have one.