Fleeting trip to Portugal, June 2025
Getting there:
Well ,what a cracker start to our Portugal adventure. First the news the airport cues in Lisbon should be clear within two weeks. Yep straight from the mouth of the president. Can’t wait. Second apparently the locals are protesting about tourists. You guessed it, when we are there. Thankfully we will be out of the capital ,so the locals will love us. Now to the airport. Arrived way early to beat the crowds. Got our boarding passes but noticed the seats were not those we had paid a few extra quid for. Explanation; those are where the babies are, you are now down the back in the quiet area!! No you won’t be refunded because you were in an aisle seat, and you still are. Sometimes you just have to laugh and buy some duty free perfume. G has got these travel dilemmas sorted. Still the Qantas club has good food and fantastic coffee, so all is not bad. Can’t wait to board to see if my gut feeling about being next door neighbours to the toilets for a 14 hour flight is indeed on the money.
Arrived:
Wow, that was a long haul. We left Brisbane at 9pm Wednesday night and arrived in Lisbon about 12.30pm Thursday. Something like 24 or 25 hours all up. There is a very obvious reason they call Economy ‘Cattle Class’. By the time the plane has reached the great dividing range you feel like you’ve been mustered, wormed, dipped, ear tagged and branded with the experience going downhill from there. Still the Emirates Tucker was plentiful and mostly pretty decent. We entertained ourselves catching on old movies and CNNs depiction of Donald making America great again. Sleep evaded us almost completely for the entire journey.
Every trip has its moments. And usually they involve sh.t magnet Peter. A humble stroll to the aircraft toilet revealed a bit of a line up, if three constitutes such a thing. One however, was a lady using her underwhelming leverage to try to open an access door near the kitchen and toilet. Being the good social citizen, Peter quietly informed her that the door was not that of the toilet and that the toilet was indeed occupied. Without escape of breath otherwise, she grabbed the hatch again saying she was looking for the door to get out! It was hard not to contemplate that had she been successful and plummeted the 30 odd thousand feet downwards, with her badly died red hair and mental state, drone warfare would have taken on a new perspective.
On the ground in Lisbon, with only one pushy passenger needing a lesson in patience getting off the plane, we were greeted with a sea of people waiting to get to, not through customs. Then a voice rang out announcing an Australian only line. Peeved would adequately describe some punters as we waltzed on by. Probably didn’t help, when questioned as to why, Peter informed the inquisitor it was because we were a better class of people.
We all fitted into the Mercedes van before whisking our way to our hotel. Needless to say this van did not have lane assist control. Our lovely driver spent most of his time straddling three or more lanes. We are all walking zombies but apparently tonight is when Lisbon starts to party, so we may drag ourselves out for a bit.
Lisbon for the first time:
We crawled out of bed like meth addicted sloths ready to attack Lisboa. Reality hit ,so we attacked a pretty decent hotel breakfast with Kerry and James. Now fuelled, we headed off in the general direction of the town castle using the line of sight app. On the way we saw a group of police officers looking resplendent beside a police bike looking otherwise. Deciding a nostalgic photo was imminent Peter headed over to ask for same. Within 10 metres of target he recognised a look on their faces he had experienced himself a thousand times when serving. ‘Here comes some spanker tourist, would be if he could be, looking for a picture with my bike’. The defences dropped when they learned Peter’s past and chat progressed. Photo taken we marched on up.
The streets got narrower, before arriving at an almost empty castle. We roamed around with the majority of the company being peacocks. After clambering the walls, we headed down and around, finding Lisboa Cathedral, Lisboa Church and Lisboa some other religious building. All stunning in their own right. We ended up seaside, argued with google to find the Stetson shop to buy a cap and learn of their history in Portugal. The short story involves a rich old man, a young beautiful woman and a few cowboy hats. Funnily enough we were told the massive world-wide sales boost for the company recently was due to some folk singer called Taylor Swift slapping one her head. Every girl now wants one.
Our afternoon included a nap followed by drinks with Kerry and James until we began shivering in the cold. We headed home, stalling only to watch the show where you could win 50 euro if you could dead hang from an overhead bar for 2 minutes. Peter wondered but realised his best was about 30 seconds short to claim the prize. A quick pizza and we were done.
Off to Alcobaca:
Sleeping in a bit this morning, we slid down four floors to a latish breakfast at the hotel. Bacon and eggs done, we headed out for a walk along the foreshore of Lisbon Harbour. Turning right we encountered the Lisbon running club, running. It appeared everyone young fit person in Portugal had found the least restrictive outfit in which to pound the pavement. There was more flesh and muscle rippling and bouncing than reasonably imaginable, yet we battled on undeterred.
As time and distance wore on we came to the graffiti district that morphed to the night club district that morphed to the time to turn back district. At 10am the tattooed security at the nightclub looked like he had fought a few bad wars and won most singlehandedly!! We wondered how many bodies had had tossed into the bay over his time.
Back in downtown Lisbon G dress shopped, Peter got offered marijuana for a good price and the crowds built up. A nice pizza for lunch was followed by a decent bus trip to Alcobaca where we met our accommodation for the next few days. Well ‘holy old monastery Batman’ this place smokes. Stunning is the only word. To top it off we have a piano and string band just outside our window tuning up for a performance tonight. Not much to whinge about. We plan dinner at the hotel tonight as tomorrow the conference starts.
Alcobaca and ‘that’ conference!
Well what a day. No one could ever make this stuff up. The morning was pretty normal for travellers, with us having a scrumptious breakfast before wandering into the town centre. Being Sunday it was interesting that a lot of the shops were open. To top it off the entire town square was covered by an old style market where people try to sell absolute crap at a nostalgic price.
In time Peter eyed off a fancy watch in a legitimate store so added that to the collection. We walked into an alcove just outside the Opera Cafe to be greeted by a well-known singer who promptly belted out a couple of tunes. Amazing stuff. After lunch Peter headed to his Alcohol and Drug Conference with the UniSC team. The promised shuttle bus failed in its attempts to visit our location so two taxis were the order of the day. Actually it was one taxi spun twice as the second didn’t turn up.
At the conference we learned Germany has new drug driving laws whereby you get arrested if you haven’t taken you medicinal marijuana and are found driving. Novel if not stupid!! But the ‘I can’t believe I just heard that’ moment went to the conference chair. With the program closing for the day, she announced that Alcobaça was a sustainable city so we could walk back to the town, but a mere 25 minutes away. The shuttle bus was still in hiding!! All we could do was laugh. Again we had a decent dinner at our hotel in preparation for a long hike to the conference tomorrow morning.
Without doubt this one will go down as the conference of the century. Sans shuttle bus yet again, we hoofed it in the morning heat to the venue the 9am start. With no sign of urgency taking any part in today’s events, the stage burst into life at precisely 9.27am. The official opening ceremony welcome to country was a random lady saying, “ok, let’s go”. What followed was a mismatch of snippets from things to do and see in Alcobaca. At one stage a very well dressed lady appeared on stage for no good reason before singing an angelic version of Hallelujah, followed by an equally stunning rendition of my favourite Portuguese song. Then, things changed. The head honcho struggled to stage providing I’m not sure what, to the extent I thought she may have been demonstrating lived experience as to the conference themes of drugs and alcohol!
With morning sessions over we found ourselves locked out of morning tea with the security footprint continuing at lunch. The afternoon dragged on in the uncomfortable heat as the aircon bravely fought all comers in an effort to not work. Finally an acid bath beckoned back at the hotel offering far greater attraction than remaining in place. A group dinner downtown went off a treat with Manuel the third making our night a comedy show. Would not have missed it for quids.
Out of bed early today Peter headed to the hotel gym again having to raise the concierge to open up. Again his infatuation with all things dangerous kangaroos was at the head of conversation.
With the shuttle bus now apparently parked up for good, a few of us headed off to the conference in the hot sun. G remained in bed preparing for a torturous day of shopping ahead.
Bucking the trend, the conference ran pretty well today. Starting not more than 45 mins late, the program stumbled along with the precision of an overweight wombat.
Just when our confidence was high, Gregoir and Peter decided to grab a conference coffee. Being a French coffee connoisseur Gregoir selected a tiny somethingorother and began sipping. Peter, desperate for a decent swig asked for a large coffee. He even used his hands to demonstrate how big. The lady delivered. A tiny Gregoir size coffee in a big cup!! All we could do was laugh.
Our afternoon was enlightening in an alcohol and drug sort of way before we headed back to the hotel. Most of the team hit the hay early for it has been two days of brain drain with another yet to come.
Gs day was mostly spent visiting the monastery in town followed by a massage. She is struggling poor thing.
The last day of the conference arrived with the morning walk to same being in cooler temperatures. We arrived to one of the event volunteers playing the piano and singing beautifully. Just when we were immersing ourselves in her tunes the main event started on time for the first time!!!
After a quality presentation by an Australian road safety advocate we were met with morning tea.
Today, as a fully-fledged member of team Hanna, Peter was in no mood to take another coffeegate in his stride. Hanna muscled up, marched forward and asked nicely for a coffee. The lady’s hand extended in majestic slow motion selecting a large takeaway cup. She proceeded to at least half fill with liquid gold. Before she could fully set it down on the counter Peter blurted out, “I’ll have what she had”. All was good in the world as we took our positions for the remaining sessions.
At about 1pm Peter and G bid good day to the crew who climbed aboard the shuttle bus back to Lisbon.
G rested. Peter did his tour of the monastery. Simply gob smacking is the only way to describe it. Indeed it would have been truly fantastic had he not had to share the experience with 71 school children; each fully committed to learning the history of their precious town.
We had dinner at our now favourite restaurant enjoying the activities surrounding us in the twilight. Despite our best efforts to distance ourselves after our recent encounters in Italy, Manuel caught up with us again.
We headed back to the hotel grateful we had experienced this incredible town and its people. We may even be back.
Back to Lisbon – Round Two:
We bid farewell to our beautiful Alcobaca Hotel and town. Not without some sadness as it had been a wonderful place. The trip to Lisbon was uneventful save the smog hanging over the city . Frankly the air quality was rotten. Our afternoon was spent doing not much prior a lovely dinner and a random meeting with a massive Pride concert in the middle of town. The party atmosphere contrasted an increasingly angry police officer trying to direct absolute spoons who were hell bent on disobeyed a traffic sign. Peter felt for him. It appears European idiots are akin to those back home.
Today we were off by 8.30 with our guide Medi on a private tour. We headed southish to Cascais. This place is for the rich and maybe famous. One vehicle dealership we passed had Bentley, Mercedes, Porsche and Range Rover. The town had Southerby’s, and every other store G knew.
We then headed to the western most point in Europe; so long as you use a globe. Apparently if you lie a map flat Britain takes the claim. Either way we figured if you jumped you’d get wet.
Thankfully our day looked up from there. We lobbed up at Quinta Da Regaleira being pretty much the birthplace of Knights Templar, or the earliest version of one of the two streams of the Freemasons we know these days. In a truly fantastic tour we got to see secret tunnels, the initiation well (a 27 m high dry well where newbies were told to jump or they were expelled. Flinch and you were out. Apparently they never let you jump but just wanted to test your mettle) and even the grandmaster’s chair. Funnily enough the symbol for the grandmaster is ‘G’.
The afternoon was lunching in Sintra and whipping around Pena Palace which was about a 4.3 on the international ‘will I visit again’ scale.
Back at the hotel we reflected on a great day and thanked the lord for arriving safely as, whilst Medi was an amazing guide, he was possibly the worst driver in all of the Kingdom of Portugal.
Special Pride Edition
We headed out to dinner, each grabbing a less than lovely crumbed chicken and salad. We followed it with a couple of Portuguese tarts before heading home. As we approached the big square with King soandso on his horse overlooking proceedings, we realised the Portugal Pride event was again in full swing. This night however, we spent more than a wee while, as a live band called ‘The Black Mambas’ was playing. They were brilliant. No other description necessary. The lead singer was a standout only outdone by old mate on the electronic flute. To top off the night G met a few characters, with only the night chill sending home. Our luck in stumbling across random stuff was with us again.
Without a formal plan today, we relaxed over a hotel breakfast before wandering towards our first tram ride in Portugal. Grabbing the tram was no dramas but we still have no idea if we paid, how much we paid or if it’s on a timer and we are still paying. In the end we followed the locals and probably didn’t pay….maybe.
On our list was a must do visit to the Berlin Tower. Not sure why but it could not be overlooked. Upon arrival we did see a tower. A tower completely encased in scaffolding and nylon mesh. Our disappointment was lessened by watching bus after bus of people on a formal tour turning up for a look.
Also on the list was a visit to the famed Jeronos Monestary. We stood aghast as the line to get in was over 200m long; in both directions. We agreed we’d seen too many monasteries anyway. We settled for visiting the monument to sailors overlooking the water. This was a stunning bit of sculpture being both massive and intricate. It just happens to be near the inbound flight path, so Peter played with a bit creative photography seeing if he could make it look like the planes were about to crash into the monument.
With one last must do, we dropped over to the best tart shop in all of Portugal to join the line and purchase the second best tarts in all of Portugal!! We had a pensioners dinner (very early and shared one dish) before getting a front row for the Pride march. Expecting a show equal to the Sydney event of like nature, we were sadly disappointed by what was almost as good as the Easter in the Country parade at Roma on a wet day. Funnily enough Peter was asked if they would see him in Amsterdam in 2026. He assured that would be a good possibility!
Our last day as tourists in Portugal started with a 20 minute walk up the Liberade to the meeting point for an 8 person tour of Fatima, Nazare and Obidos. We were teamed with four English Asians who were as funny as hell, and a German psychologist.
The hour drive to Fatima was uneventful, save Matty the driver droning on about Kings and Queens from a fair while ago. We did note that as far as Fatima is concerned the 13th of May and its October equivalent are very special dates.
Not sure what we expected, but Fatima is basically a cathedral that is relatively new by European standards, surrounded by a low set very new open air church amidst about 30 acres of bitumen designed to hold about 60,000 when the pilgrimage is in full swing. We witnessed true believers marching on their knees down a 200m pathway to ask for favours. G took one look and decided they were going to slow for her so tried to figure out how she would pull an overtaking manoeuvre if she joined the party.
Navare is where world’s biggest waves roll in. Surfers from around the globe congregate to take on these monsters. Truth is that the waves occur only on every second Wednesday of every third month in leap years that have snowfall. Frankly it appears they are so absent we’re thinking the surf boards belonging to legends of the sea on display, maybe a bit of BS. I you believe it a German bloke holds the record for taming a 93 foot wave.
The afternoon was spent at the tiny town of Obidos known for its cherry liquor and weird people. Apparently the liquor never goes off with a recent opening on a 1919 bottle going down quite well. Being a walled town, we immediately headed for a lap on top of the walls. Different to most, this was a stone path about a metre wide up to 30 metres above the earth with a wall on only one side. We crab walked our way around for half an hour, hanging on to the wall with anything we had. It was just outrightly bloody scary. We were almost going to drop to our knees and ask for favours!!
Back at the hotel we are pretty much packed for the 24 hours of torture ahead us on the flights home tomorrow.
Getting back home:
11.36 pm and we are on the ground in Brisbane. What a drag the last 25 hours have been. Arrived way early at Lisbon airport to not find any check in points for Emirates. Finally figured the check signs randomly change as the next flight is open for check-in. So any isle can change to any breed at any time!
Well if you think the Middle East spat is not having an effect, you are so wrong. We finally got through all the security at Lisbon and into a pre boarding secure area. All passengers were then hunted out for about 45 minutes then re checked. We left Lisbon about 75 minutes late. Then our flight path dipped way low for obvious reasons. Although Peter did wonder if they were min min lights or their middle eastern cousins streaking across the sky.
We got to Dubai las ate as hell, having just 20 minutes to get off, catch a train and board our next flight. Then, given security ,Peter got a full bomb/drug scan!!
The 14 hours home was uneventful. We are dead in the water with nothing left in the tank.
