The rain has started, which means we've been in for the weekend, sipping tea and other warming refreshments... but even so, I can't seem to find enough time to weave an accurate account of all we are experiencing. As such, I figure it may be easier to enumerate via photographic evidence...
Most weekends we've tried to do something to explore our local environment. On this one we biked 7 sunny miles to Guincho beach, which looks squarely out into the Atlantic. We stopped at Boca do Inferno (the mouth of fire), a local attraction. No fire. Just waves and such.
Above Gunicho, the wind was intense.
Look! Up in the sky! It's a bird... no a plane... no, it's... a ridiculous amount of kite surfers. Guincho is world renowned for it's kite surfing, they were out in full force while we were there. At times, they would launch off of a wave 20 or 30 feet in the air, with a hang time of 10-15 seconds. Intense!
The view on the bike ride home from Gunicho was great.
We took an hour and a half journey via train and bus to Ikea in order to make our home a bit more cozy. As these things go, we were quite laden on the way back.
Living in Cascias (one of the most expensive areas in Portugal), the prices for most things aren't noticeably less than in the U.S. An exception to this is food from our local organic farmers market. This haul was about $15. We have signed up for a CSA style box with a lovely farming couple, and it's awesome.
Handmade pizza night at the Nolan pad. The fig pizza was made with figs from our landlord's farm and was ridiculously tasty. I'm salivating as I write this, even though we made this weeks ago.
The view from our apartment continues to inspire. We have had many lovely sun and moon rises over the Cascais bay. Doesn't it make you want to come visit us?
After over a month of warm to hot sunny days, the weather has finally started to turn. I welcome the fall!
It was a tough decision to leave behind Charlotte, the Martin DM guitar I've had since I was 17, but with a $200 airline luggage cost (for any items after the first 2) in concert with fears of damage on the way over, it seemed like the best thing to do. A work colleague graciously lent me a beater for a while, but I had my eyes open for something more substantive. I stalked the local music store (a 2 minute walk from our place) for a week or so, trying several guitars over and over until my new baby won out. Made of smooth mahogany and sporting a sweet warm sound and easy action, I'm stoked to have added her to the family. She will, of course, need a name... so feel free to post your suggestions.
Yesterday, after over 4 weeks in Portugal, a land of longing and bittersweet melancholy (which translates roughly to "saudade"), the local muse graced us and I wrote a song for the first time in many months. I patched together a track and turned it into a slideshow to make it easier to put on the blog (if anyone knows how to just put a mp3 on blogger, I'd love to hear how). The lyrics are below... filled with a lot of Bay Area nostalgia for Friday nights with friends at 575 Montclair and beyond. Pardon the shoddy recording... going to have to get myself a legitimate microphone one of these years.
It's going on 3 weeks now... all of which have been full of all of the routine busy bee hubbub present at the beginning of the school year for teachers the world over. As such, we've been keeping our heads down a bit, and haven't had as much time to explore our new country of residence as we hope to in the months and years to come. Even so, we've been watching and learning, bit by bit, and wanted to document and dispense some of our most preliminary of observations, undoubtedly based solely on a very small slice of experience. So... take this as you will, but here goes a list of some of our first observations and hopelessly broad generalizations about the Cascais corner of Portugal.
1. The Portuguese are super duper nice ~ We've had so many lovely little encounters with people of all walks of life, from the bus driver who helped us figure out how to actually pay for the bus, to the nice lady at Vodafone who spent well over an hour helping us figure out the best phone plan for us to take, to our our amazing landlords who helps us with just about anything you could imagine. He even brought us a large basked of figs and 2 bottles of wine that he grew on his farm an hour away.
2. The Portuguese love their coffee, and it shows in their driving ~ Maybe this explains #1, but it seems like espresso or coffee comes pretty standard after most meals, even if you've finished eating late at night. Despite the caffeine, meals out seem to be long affairs, with no rush by those that are served or serving. The blood-pumping stimulants must not take affect until they step into a car, because it seems that everyone (including bus drivers and expats) drive like they've got a baby crowning in the backseat. Riding the bus can be an exercise in arm strength if you don't get a seat, because you can never tell when they're going to slam on the breaks or make a hard turn. Surprisingly, despite the speed racer mentality, as soon as someone steps into a crosswalk the supreme civility (mentioned previously) takes control, and they will almost always go out of their way to allow pedestrians the right of way.
The beer "selection"
3. Alcoholic selection leans towards wine over beer ~ As a recent brewer and long time connoisseur of cerveja, this is admittedly disappointing. Selection is limited primarily to different sizes or containers of 1 or 2 different kinds of somewhat refreshing but relatively plain fermented rice beverage, with hops and richness of flavor profile no where to be found. Wine, on the other hand, must be grown everywhere, because it's cheaper than water (quite literally, in some cases). We tasted a vinho do casa that came from a $7 bottle that was every bit as good as those that cost $20+ back in California, of all places.
4. Movie theaters throw some curveballs ~ So... Jyl and I took an adventure to the mall on Saturday night in hopes of catching a feature length film, which are often in English with Portuguese subtitles (we're told that this is one reason why many Portuguese people are able to speak English fairly well). First step: order tickets. Walking in, we can either choose the digital console with portuguese words and such, or the concession stand. We choose the console. We think we choose the right tickets, although then a screen pops up in which we need to choose our seats. Hmm... which is the front? We head to the concession stand, which turns out to also be the place to buy tickets if you're not digitally inclined (or Portuguese literate). We get our tickets and our seats! We wander the mall for a while, noticing that the food court is infinitely better than most malls in the states, including my favorite, the "Navajos Cafe" doughnut shop.
When we return to purchase popcorn in the concession line, we dive into the shortest one, hoping to get a jump on the 100+ screaming girls that presumably have come to see the One Direction movie (luckily, we choose NOT to see that one). As we wait, we notice that people are skipping us left an right. What gives? We had read that they were all about queues here. If we learned some sassy Portuguese rebukes, we would've put someone in their place. It happens right when we're finally up at the front, and the cashier informs us that because concessions and tickets are purchased in the same place, ticket sales take priority. She points to the giant sign that endorses this plan. Good thing we don't know Portuguese rebukes.
Time for some popcorn. We're asked if we want "blah blah" with the "blah blah," which I interpret to mean butter, so I ask him to mix it together in Espan-uguese. The popcorn dealer takes popcorn from 2 different bins, and we're on our way. We sit next to our assigned seats (a guy has his motorcycle helmet in one of them. We don't yet know how to say "can you move your motorcycle helmet from our seat, please" so we choose the easy way out). We start to eat and I'm devastated. "blah blah" doesn't mean butter... I have unwittingly requested that sweetened kettle corn (which I hold to be one of the great blasphemies of our age) be mixed with normal delicious popcorn. Luckily, Jyl prefers this so we pick at it like chickens, trying to find our respective corns of choice in the light of the big screen.
One finally curveball. In the height of action as Matt Damon starts to run from his evil pursuant, the lights come up, the movie shuts down, and everyone stands up. What trickery is this? An intermission? It's a boon for Jyl's wee bladder, but I'm not so sure I'm down. Regardless, it was a successful night to be sure... and the learning continues.
After several days of "voting," we're ready to reveal the results of our "International House Hunting." Drumroll please:
Numero um! That is to say, we chose the 1st of the 3 apartments we visited, the little gem in "Historic Cascais."
Although we were intrigued by the idea of having a pool and/or tennis court at our disposal, Estoril seemed a little too out of the way, so number 2 was out. Number 3 was very alluring... modern and stylish with a warm feel. It definitely fit us, but was also a bit far away from both work (an extra bus ride in the morning, most likely doubling our commute time) and all the fun exciting stuff in Cascais (see more on this below). SO... we went with the place that was ready to move in with all of the amenities set up and the nicest landlord, Antonio. He has already agreed to get us a better bed, newer couch, and even a flat screen TV (that was unprompted!) The night we shook on it, he took us out for wine and beer and lovely conversation. We scored.
Last night was our first night staying at our romantic little "penthouse." Jyl cooked a sumptuous risotto and we drank delicious $4 wine as the blue moon rose on the horizon. As twilight settled in, the enchanting sounds of Antonio Zambujo wafted in our window from the "Festa do Mar" (pronounced Fesh-tah) that runs for 10 days a few hundred yards from our perch. An auspicious start, to be sure...
So it starts, friends! Our 2nd bedroom is ready to go, and we are a short walk from a train station that runs to Lisbon, so we should be an easy destination. Come enjoy all that Portugal has to offer, of which we have only begun to discover...
Once in a blue moon... we move to an apartment in Cascais, Portugal
Our flights were great, but despite enjoying lavish comfort on the plane ride over the Atlantic we arrived with familiarly foggy jet-lagged brains. The high school principal, school director, and transportation manager (Nate, Blannie, and Jose, respectively) were there to greet us. Nate took us on a stroll along the Tagus River in Lisbon to pass the time as we waited for the rest of the new international hires, and was exceptionally patient as we gushed with a menagerie of pent up questions about the school year, the staff, and Portugal in general. The rest of the crew (Maria, Joel, & Jen) eventually arrived from the far-flung corners of the world and then we headed West along the coast, out of Lisbon and on towards Cascais (our future home) and Linho (the school site).
At the school we were taken on a tour and then fed an overwhelming amount of very useful facts that were reasonably difficult to keep from leaking out of brains and into puddles on the linoleum. Of the many tasks they set before us, Mission #1 was finding a place to live. In 4 days. Better yet, 3, so that we have time to bring the Portuguese rental contract to our accommodating office manager. Oh, and by the way, even though you asked for 2 bedroom places we set you up to look at 1 bedroom places... so you'll probably need to contact the agents and reschedule. But you can't do that yet because you have your first meeting in an hour, and you have to check in to the hotel first. Deep breath...
Although it all seemed pretty overwhelming at first, it fell into place fairly quickly, especially with the help of many warm and helpful Portuguese people that we met along the way. As a result, we have a place all set up to go, just 3 days after arriving. Check out the little video I made to document the journey, and vote on which one YOU think we should have chosen!
Six months ago we pulled the trigger. Today, we're actually on our way. Just 2 flights and an expansive layover stand in the way of our dazed arrival in Lisboa.
In honor of this momentous occasion, we decided to splurge, and kick it off right... we're flying first class! We rationalized the (surprisingly reasonable) expense through saved baggage fees, complimentary lounge access for our 8-hour Newark layover, and the fact that it might allow us to actually sleep for what will seemingly be a very long arrival day. More realistically it just seemed like one of the only times we'd be able to afford it (especially since our base tickets were paid for by the school). Luxury awaits! So we've got that goin' for us.
Thirty hours from now we will have crossed an ocean, taken a tour of our new school, opened a bank account, and gone to see apartments that could house us for the next 2 years. It's going to be an epic couple of days...
Spanish, French, German, Dutch, and a dozen more languages I can't discern buzz around us as we stumble in a jet-lagged haze through Amsterdam's busy airport. I let the overwhelming stimuli of myriad cultures comfortably co-existing wash over me. I can't even begin to process the tapestry that's spinning around my head on 25 measly minutes of shut-eye (not sleeping, mind you; literally, I shut my eyes, but could find no way to get the rest I knew I'd need come morning). We hop on a quick flight to Basel, Switzerland and stumble out the doors only to realize that our passports have NOT yet been stamped for entry. We ask an officer what to do now that we had passed through customs and he said that there was nothing to be done. Are we fugitives? Have we illegally entered the European continent on the first swipe? Silly Americans...
And so began our "dry run" exploration of Europe... Nearly 3 weeks to start to adapt to the fact that "you know nothing, Jon Snow." A chance to experience different languages... new foods... strange signs... and funny looking money. The heart of the European mainland yielded all of these things, but was certainly cushioned by the fact that nearly everywhere we went (Switzerland, the Netherlands, Germany, and even France) people were clearly more ready to deal with me than I was with them. I felt humbled at the ease with which people switched from language to language, whereas I found myself nonsensically falling back on Spanish to communicate (as of now it's the only "other" language I am used to speaking, so when someone asked me something in Swiss or German, I found myself automatically responding with a "si, gracias" more than once). This might go over better in Portugal. Or maybe not.
It was a beautiful and unexpectedly busy trip, chock-full of cathedrals, castles, and the vestiges of time past (buildings considered "ancient" in America would in many cases seem to be considered "new" in Europe... or not considered at all). At times I felt like I was navigating these new cultures with all the grace of an elephant trying to tiptoe through a room of bubble-wrap. But I guess that's my future, so I better get used to it. Exactly 2 weeks from today, by this time we should have landed in Portugal, toured our school, opened a bank account, and be right in the middle of touring furnished apartments, where we'll spend the next 2 years of our lives. Deep breath. The dry run of Europe was great, but when I face up to the reality that it is my future, the elephant in me is ready to storm the circus crowd, knock down the supports, and hide in the collapsing tent until it all blows over. I'm overwhelmed... but I suppose that's the natural feel of things. All I can do is make the most of the time with my family, friends, and familiar life... and remind myself that eventually, Portugal will be familiar, too.
