Living it Up in Lisbon: Day Three (The Best Day Ever!)
This is the third day of our five day holiday to Lisbon last October with a big gang friends and families. I have tried to keep names and pictures of people’s faces to a minimum as this is a public site, there were lots of kids with us and I think there has been a bit of a stigma about being seen in large groups during certain phases of the pandemic. That being said this was truly one of the greatest days ever and one that I have been very happy to relive over and over again while writing and editing this.
Friday 8th October, 2021
I woke up early. This was D-Day, the day of Beau’s Covid test. I was actually quite relaxed about the whole thing. Much more than I thought I would be. The kids had spent very little time inside, everyone they interacted with was fully vaccinated and they were bright and full of energy. Beau had also been an absolute trooper throughout the whole process. From the locking himself down at home, to wearing a mask and sunglasses on the plane and to his behaviour once we’d arrived in Lisbon, he’d crossed every ‘t’ and dotted every ‘i’. Every time I looked into the room where the kids hung out in our apartment, he was sitting two metres away in his own chair which was outside on the small deck. It made me sad that someone so young had to worry in such a way, but it helped me to feel like he was keeping safe and it helped me keep my own anxiety under control.
Beau had not enjoyed his first Covid test back in Dublin. The stick up the nose had hurt and he wasn’t looking forward to having another stick up there. The lab was a 15-minute walk from the house and Google maps took us straight there. Or at least we thought it did. We queued up in the chemist for ages (two people ahead of us) and then when we got to the desk, I heard the words I didn’t want to hear.
‘We don’t have you booked in for an appointment. The email you are showing me isn’t a booking it’s just an inquiry.’
My heart sank, possibly literally as I felt a distinct pain in my chest as I heard the words.
‘We can possibly fit you in later today’
That didn’t make me feel any better, we had a million things on later in the day.
‘It’s for a Rapid Antigen test, right? Because those are the only tests we do.’
Oh Jesus, no. We need a PCR to get back into Ireland. An Antigen Test is no use.
The woman was steadfastly refusing to look at my crumpling face, or to inspect the email on my phone that I was futilely begging her to look at more closely, but then she finally realised what was going on. Our appointment was for the lab three doors down, that specialised in Covid tests and whose name was on the top of our email (even if it wasn’t on the front of their door). Blood started to return to my face as we went three doors down and were met by a woman that already knew Beau’s name and a team of women masked up and ready to stick a swab up his nose. Again, acting the absolute trooper, Beau took his swabbing, and we were back out on the street in no time.
The way we had come seemed a bit roundabout. We had taken a left and two rights, which meant to me that a straighter line was possible to get back to the house. So, Beau and I set off on a bit of an adventure back to the patio. After about five minutes, I began to doubt myself (again) and suggested we head back the way we came, but Beau said that they had been down this street loads of times and that they had been all over the area when it was just the kids. The kids were having their own holiday and the entire area was part of it. He was of course right, and we ended up back at the place in half the time it had taken to get there, even though we had stopped to get Beau a congratulatory can of Guava soda.
The Patio was, as always, a little slice of paradise. Bits of our group coming and going, stopping for chats, organising the day, reliving the previous evening. My immediate family needed breakfast and this time it would be to the other Copenhagen Coffee; the one Tara had gone to the previous day. This one was across the street from the park that I was a little embarrassed to admit I hadn’t seen even though my kids had been regular fixtures there late into the last two nights.
It was a delightful spot, outdoor seating on a small square looking at the park and beyond it another massive church and beyond that, the mighty estuary of the Tagus. We all had to take seats in the blazing sun because all of the shaded tables were already taken. It was no surprise that our food took ages. We had only ordered scrambled eggs because they were already out of everything else and it took a good twenty minutes for them to come out. We didn’t feel like complaining until Johnny came down much later than us, sat at the next restaurant on the square, at a table in the shade and ordered what looked like a proper brunch, one that would set you up for the day. His food came before ours. He may have even mocked us as we looked on.
Back to the Patio for a quick shower, a bit of a dress up for what promised to be a fantastic day and back to the square to get ready to go back down the hill. All of the adults wanted to look nice, but Beau had decided that he was done wearing shirts for the rest of the holiday. Fair play, the sun suits him. Back down the hill again in a big gang. Back down a new combination of lanes and squares, back onto the seafront, back onto a whole host of scooters and back towards the west end of town.
Laura had booked a boat for everyone who had come for her birthday. It would surely be a highlight of the trip. The boat was fully catered with a full bar and the promise of a mid-afternoon swim in the river. It sounded great; the reality was better than we could have imagined.
By the time we got to the dock on our scooters, the half of our group without kids had already arrived by taxi. Those who hadn’t tried out scooters got a quick whiz around the area before we parked them up and got ready for the real adventure.
We all filed onto the boat in mass. It was once again like winning the lottery. We all took seats in the covered deck at the rear of the boat. It was open at the sides and back, with about a dozen long tables, a BBQ hanging off the stern where fish and meat were being furiously cooked and a bar that immediately started to do a very brisk trade. We each got four drink tokens as part of the whole deal, so every child had a coke, and every adult had a beer in hand before we even started to leave port. The boat was amazing. The large, covered deck at the back was supplemented by an open, artificial grass covered deck to the front and a large seating area up on roof with unobstructed views in nearly every direction. The ship came with a crew of four; two cheerful bartenders, a grumpy captain and an impossibly good-looking young man barbecuing topless and shoe-less at the back. The kids headed up top for the view and the adults moved around the tables chatting excitedly as we made our way out of the small harbour.
The stereo was blasting and Laura, of course trying to make everything even more perfect, was trying to figure out what music to play on her phone. It was only when she asked for suggestions, that we revealed that we had all actually been putting together a collaborative birthday playlist for the last week, full of songs that make us think of her, and that she could play that right now at possibly the most perfect time ever to play a personalised playlist. It was one of the rare enough perfect moments you ever really get in life. The boat, the company, the music, the scenery, it was all glorious.
The boat left the harbour and made a long slow procession past the main waterfront area and past all the areas we had been to earlier on the scooters. Past the Praça do Comércio , past the castle on the hill and even as far as the Monastery Sao Vicente next to where we were staying, standing high and proud on the last hill to the East. We continued past large cruise ships and down towards a small docks area.
Then back past the centre for another look before heading out across the river and over to the south side. There we skirted a strange commuter area, blighted by construction at the mouth of it’s small ferry port and looking a far cry from the majesty still visible a short distance across the water. This gave way quickly to a long stand of run down, crumbling docks buildings, now covered in large murals of graffiti art. There is a popular walkway that follows these murals all the way to a large somewhat ornamental elevator. From there it dissolves into more industrial use before heading under the towering span of the 26th of April Bridge and its incessant buzz of cars overhead.
As we made the slow turn back inland, the cheery bartenders came around to announce that lunch was ready. We got back to the bar to see the whole counter full of wonderful food. Barbecued fish and chicken, colourful salads and baskets of crusty bread. Something for everybody, including the large group of vegetarians and the gang of kids. This was the life we were all realising that maybe we deserve. We have all worked hard and treated people well and should certainly be served more meals outdoors on a boat, in the sun, and in the middle of a river with all of our equally hardworking and genuinely good friends. I kind of expected someone to jump out from somewhere and ask us for our tickets, look at them scornfully and tell us that we were on the wrong boat.
I’ve hid from the Irish rain under plenty of tents and bridges and trees with all of these people over the years and we have had some of very best times ever despite one thing or another. The perfection of this experience seemed at odds with the more typical Irish experience. But on the day, sitting out on that deck with that food and that view and those people was simply fantastic.
For a brief moment, it looked like we wouldn’t get our swim in. The captain didn’t understand that we wanted to swim and had to change course amidst a load of negotiations with Victor and Laura as to whether he was willing to do it. The kids were crestfallen but took the temporary news very well. We had all noticed a diving board permanently mounted onto the side of the boat when we got on and the kids would have probably never really gotten over it if we hadn’t given them a chance to give it a go. Thankfully after much cajoling, the captain agreed to take us to some sheltered water and let us all jump in for a few minutes.
The captain found a spot he was happy with and dropped anchor. He then silently and begrudgingly made his way through the crowd and threw out a life buoy on a long rope which immediately went taught upon hitting the water. The kids were clamouring to jump off the diving board as I was trying to get my togs on and into the water. My rule is always that I am already in the water when the kids jump off anything, so I wanted to get in first seeing as we were quite far from the shore and massively out of our depths.
As soon as I hit the water, I noticed the draw. It was quite strong and moving straight from the front of the boat to the back. It wasn’t scary or worrisome, but it was quite noticeable. I positioned myself straight down current from the diving board and gave the kids the go ahead. I kept a regular stroke forward to maintain my position next to the small platform at water level at the back of the boat. The kids started launching themselves off the diving board. Floating quickly down to the platform, back up to the diving board and off again. They started pulling shapes in the air and were having a blast. Some of the adults even joined in and there was a great feeling of mirth with everyone laughing at the luxury of it all. Huge smiles adorned everyone’s’ faces and everyone seemed to be enjoying it in their own way. Johnny was actually doing a bit of distance, the kids were going haywire, lots of us were swimming calmly to keep up with the current and making sure that we were within a few arm lengths of the rope and Cliona had managed to hoist herself into the buoy at the back and was laying on top of it like some kind of Irish starfish.
It was a short enough swim, the negotiations had thrown us a bit behind schedule, but it was perfect. The weather was so nice that I didn’t even need a towel. Instead, I got myself another cold beer and sat up on the roof deck and let the warm breeze wash over me. My friend Clodagh and I sat up on that roof for ages, silently taking in the sights and sounds around us, no need for conversation. The kids were all now about 51% Coca Cola, so I left them to their own devices. We were all spread out in all corners of the boat. Reclining at the front, tunes and nibbles at the back.
Eventually the trip had to end. We could only live in such luxury for so long. We got off the boat on a high. Beau had been promised a birthday treat at a place that rented electric scooters and bikes and skateboards and all sorts of stuff, so all of the kids and most of their parents made the short walk from what felt like the very adult pursuit of lounging on a boat with a drink in hand to watching kids go back and forth on different rented devices.
I had seen the distant silhouette of the Padrão dos Descobrimentos when were on the boat and realised that it wasn’t far from where we docked. It had looked much taller than I had imagined from the pictures I’d seen of it on postcards so as soon as the kids were settled, I hopped on a scooter and made a beeline for it. It was much farther from the boat dock than I had anticipated so I ended up going all the way there full throttle, taking two pictures from across the small harbour I had no time to go around and then heading straight back, full throttle again.
I collected the rest of the gang and hopped back on a scooter towards home. Once again, the tide was in, and the water lapped at the path as we flew along the seafront. Past the Pineapple Cocktail stand, which was even busier than usual. The sounds of reggae coming from its speakers had been turned up even louder to match the increased trade. It was like a micro festival. A breeze was picking up and by the time we got back to the place to drop the scooters waves were crashing against the sea wall. The boys managed to get completely drenched just in time to climb back up the hill in soaking shoes.
Laura and Victor had organised a bunch of barbeques and a slew of burgers on the patio, so by the time we got back the kids were on their way to being sorted. That was a relief as the hike back up the hill wasn’t getting any easier and so far, unless it was being served on the back of a boat in the middle of the estuary, food was proving to be very hard to come by in Portugal.
The kids were fed without any intervention from me and Beau even got a bit more of a birthday celebration complete with a homemade cake and a song. With the kids fed and caked and back out on the streets full of sugar, it was time for the adults to head to the restaurant for food.
The restaurant was thankfully only a two-minute walk from the patio. It was an odd spot. Kind of a lounge to the giant ornate opera house next door. Laura had booked outdoor seating for eighteen and when we got there, everybody we didn’t know had to leave to fit us all in. It was an odd space. You entered under this long open air covered area with daytime seating up the back. That part was completely empty and somewhat forlorn and the only signs of life were the sounds coming from a small doorway at the end on the right that led to an abrupt left and then a short flight of stairs. These led to a large triple height room with a band setting up in front of the gigantic windows overlooking the narrow street we’d just hiked up. Another small set of stairs to the right led to a long skinny outdoor area which was on the roof of where we had come in. It was an unusual space, only lit with a bright streetlight at one end and shrouded in almost pure darkness at the other. A row of thick tables divided the space in half width-ways and we all poured ourselves into the rows of chairs available.
The wait staff was immediately overwhelmed, which was completely understandable. When eighteen Irish adults sit down anywhere, there is a giant drink order that has to be taken immediately. If you are short staffed it means that by the time you have taken orders from the people at the end of the queue, the people at the front are more than ready to order again. And that was what happened for pretty much the whole night. Once again, food was almost a luxury that no one had any time for. It took us ages to order and by the time the food started coming, people were starting to lose interest in food and to turn to a straight liquid diet. I definitely saw Johnny’s food come at a point in the night where I would have thought that everybody in Lisbon had already eaten. The food wasn’t great, the Vegan Poke Bowl was the only thing without pork and it turned out to be more of a big salad than a proper bit of stodge, but the conversation was mighty. Those in the group that hadn’t been parenting all day had a head start and it became obvious quite quickly. Tara and I had to switch to the Caiperinos to try to catch up.
A band started playing inside and I found it funny that this was the first live music I had seen in eighteen months. They weren’t bad, but they were very much the type of band you would see busking on Grafton Street on a Saturday evening. The drummer was even sitting on one of those weird wooden percussion boxes. They were having a great time, but I couldn’t help but think that they fit that stereotype of the inherently un-hip that we native English speakers have of Europeans performing non-traditional music in their own language. They were very good background music for us anyways as it gave the spot a bit of a buzz without intruding on ours.
Once the music was over, all those people that were inside crowded around the door to the outside to smoke and I began to feel very uncomfortable as to how close everyone was. I was constantly getting bumped in the head as locals leaned in to kiss each other on both cheeks so I moved down to the dark end for a drink. But at that point, my Covid anxiety had kicked back in and I couldn’t get comfortable with the size of the crowd.
The reports from back at the patio weren’t good either. Most of the kids were chilled out and ready for bed, but Roxy was antsy and not happy to be stuck in the apartment. Or more precisely, stuck in four apartments, with access to the patio which was full of crisps and sodas and the open square overlooking the town. But Roxy wanted more. She was on holiday and wanted to be out, like we all were. So by the time I got back, she was gone as were most of the kids. It was late enough that I wasn’t happy to return to just two kids watching TV and another one hanging out on the patio on his own. But we were on holiday and the rest of the kids were all together and I had been told time and time again that it was perfectly safe to let them go feral on the streets of the Alfama.
The child on the patio was one of my oldest friend’s eldest. He is a vastly intelligent 16 year old young man whose company I really enjoy. I am fascinated by his ability to seem as comfortable talking to me as he is to my twelve year old son and to be equally at ease in these two worlds. So I had to quickly dust off my proper conversation skills and get ready for action. I respect him enough that I wouldn’t have plonked myself down if I was drunk or if I wasn’t prepared to chat about things we both could take an interest in. So once I sat down I was committed. We sat and talked for a good hour. He’s an extremely talented video artist and I know enough about computers and art to keep a conversation going. I’m a musician and an American and he knows a good amount about both of those as well, so we had plenty of common ground. It was great fun trying to match wits with a sixteen-year-old who is probably my intellectual superior on my good days, and definitely has an extra length or two on me after a number of beers and a salad for dinner.
It was a welcome respite from the call of the adult world, raging in the bar up the street and my worry of the children’s world probably equally as loud on the streets below. I emerged from that conversation ready to welcome the gangs back. Ready to face an unruly teenager and not take the bait. Ready to once again throw myself into groups of people in a way that I have not been comfortable doing for the last eighteen months.
The kids arrived back at about the same time as the rest of the adults and everyone made busy sorting everyone out. It was all hands on deck. Roxy was acting like a stroppy teenager, but you could see that she was wrecked and it was only for show. Once our front door closed and the rest of the kids couldn’t see her, she was in bed in minutes. Beau was passed out by the time I made it up the stairs to kiss him goodnight.
The last of our gang to arrive had been put into an apartment out on the square. It was a large whitewashed building right on the wall where the path from the church makes the hairpin turn. The large patio table outside the front door sits on a bit of a precipice, making it feel like you are hanging off the side of the gigantic church, on the edge of the valley created by the road below. A few of us sat out there screaming with laughter for ages. There was a session going on back in the rock star garden as well, but I just loved that spot out on the square. Out in the air. Dressed only in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Best friends in the world. Laughs coming like the pissing rain in an Irish August. It was bliss. It was magic. It was perfect.
The day had been fabulous. The boat ride almost seeming like the beginning of some sort of montage of the story of our emergence from the pandemic. The point in our memories that we would remember as the first calm after the long storm. The weight had been lifted from my shoulders and I could sit up and look towards the future again. Tomorrow would be a new day with the pre-pandemic me and I couldn’t wait for it.
