Snapshots from Portugal

For our birthdays K and I went to a two-star Michelin restaurant for a 12 course tasting menu and wine pairing. The service was incredible-I did not touch a single doorknob in the restaurant because someone was always on hand to hold the door, and when I whispered to the waiter to bring K’s dessert with a candle because it was her birthday he said “Yes Mr. Gant. We know.” We ate a single-bite seafood taco that contained flavors that were like seeing a new color, drank wine sourced from the flanks of a volcano that smelled like sulfur and tasted like pineapple, and had sea urchin served in an urchin-shaped dish that was specially created by a ceramicist on retainer for the restaurant. Between courses we were invited to walk into the kitchen, stand very still in a designated square meter of floor space, and watch the chefs work while we drank a shot of lemon liqueur. I asked how many people worked back there and was told that today there were 14. There were 8 tables in our dining room.

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K and I rented wetsuits and surfboards at Matosinhos beach and hit the waves for 2 hours. I was stoked to surf because we weren’t far from Nazaré, which famously has some of the largest waves in the world. In the US if you rented a surf board you’d have to sign a waiver, watch a safety video, go out with an instructor, and probably wear a helmet and life jacket. In Portugal they just asked if we’d pay by cash or card.

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K and I drove into the Douro valley, where the grapes for port wine have been grown since Roman times. The barrels are floated down to Porto to age for anywhere from 5 to 150 years. The interior is hot, dry, depopulated, and even cheaper than the affordable coastal cities.

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From Lisbon I took a solo day trip to Sintra, and walked the crenellated parapets of a 900 year old moorish fort. They’re still in perfect condition, and from the watchtower you can look over the green hills and azure sea and the port of Lisbon 30 miles away and feel invincible. I walked on to the Peña Palace, which is gaudy and whimsical and looks like it’s made of marzipan. There was a 30 minute line for access to the interior, and right before I entered a guy brazenly sidled up and cut me off in line. His hair was dyed cotton-candy pink, he wore huge headphones and sunglasses indoors, had ear gauges and face piercings, and tattoos on every visible limb of his body. After edging in front of me he gestured to a group of friends across the courtyard, alternately giving them a thumbs up and the middle finger. I didn’t say a word to him about cutting me off, and then burned with rage and shame for the rest of the day about being such a flaccid pushover chump. On reflection, however, I thought about how insane the world has become, and you never know when you confront a stranger if you’ll get spat on or punched or what. Besides, I thought, who am I to delay a fellow ardent aficionado of Portuguese courtly regalia from looking at the Palacio’s marvelous holdings? The guy clearly could not wait to look at the vase collection within.

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In Lisbon at night the popular areas are taken over by stag parties of British lads who wear tight pants, collared shirts open to the 4th button, and move in dense, shaven-headed packs. Street vendors surround the packs like seagulls to a trawler. I watched one enterprising fella go into a supermarket, buy a bottle of rum and stack of cups, and attach himself to a bachelor party, pouring shots on demand for a euro each in the street. The lads chant and chunder in the ancient streets until 3AM. The conquistadors have become the conquisted.

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I’ve eaten so many olives that I now sweat oil. They’re chewy and delicious, and there’s an incredible variety to choose from. It seems funny to me to have such a gamut of selection of a single snack food, and then I remember how many varieties of potato chips my local gas station carries and think that this is a better option.

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TAP went on strike today and canceled 40 flights, and when I arrived at the airport the line to get through security was literally 200 yards long. I forgot to remove my watch and the metal detector flashed red when I passed, but the guard waved me through anyway. My EasyJet ticket to Bordeaux cost less than what an Uber to the airport would have cost if I took Ubers instead of the subway. I ordered a beer onboard and the flight attendant told me that because of happy hour I could have a second one half price. I’m one of the older people on the flight, which is why I can afford to buy inflight beers like a VIP.