I have wanted to go to Portugal since 2007 when I was studying abroad in Prague, where I met a Portuguese guy once who was teaching English there. We had the briefest of conversations, but his description of his home country (and his looks) convinced me this was a place I wanted to go.
I booked my trip there this past Christmas (a gift to myself) seven years later, when I was still jet lagged and unable to sleep at 5 o’clock in the morning at home in Portland. Roundtrip airfare was less than $50 from London for a weekend so there was no second guessing myself when I hit the “purchase” button.
I was slightly worried that my experience of the country wouldn’t live up to my expectations that had been building up for so long, but boy was I wrong. After only one day, I knew this was a place I will be visiting again and again. (I had a similar feeling the first few hours I was in Scotland. A place I have continually revisited over the past couple years and also makes the list of "my future homes." More on that another time).
The 60-degree weather in January was glorious, and even though my wearing of t-shirts got a lot of comments from the locals (“wasn’t I cold?!”), I was very content to bask in the sunshine. The people are so friendly and relaxed, the architecture gorgeous, and the hills of Lisbon provided for beautiful views overlooking the Tagus River complete with palm trees. I did a day trip to Sintra--a hillside town with castles, palaces, and forests-and hiked up a steep mountain blanketed in a thick fog. I walked nonstop for 3 hours in Lisbon until my heel bones were bruised (it’s still sometimes painful to walk). I went out to hear live Fado, a type of popular, melancholic Portuguese music accompanied by a mandolin and guitar. And I made my way south to the Algarve region and spent a night in Faro. To top all that off, unlike most European countries outside of the United Kingdom, hard cider was available everywhere! It's safe to say my time in Portugal was WAY too short.
I never think twice about traveling alone. I like hanging out with myself and have found that being independent when traveling is a great way to meet people and not be tied to others’ needs or wants. It’s just easy to me. I bring along a book, enjoy people watching, wander around for hours, and like to get lost in my own imagination.
But looking back on my weekend in Portugal, it feels like I was never alone, like I went there with a friend the entire time. I think this speaks to the friendliness of the people and the great conversations I had with other travelers and staff members I met in the hostels I stayed at. We exchanged stories of our life voyages and shared travel tips. We talked about our pasts and our futures. We discussed what we wanted out of life and let our traveling minds dream away without boundaries. I feel like I made several friends that weekend (as often happens when a bunch of solo travelers get together with a few drinks), yet I can't remember half of their names and know I will never see or hear from many of them again. (Although I did meet up with one in Edinburgh a couple weeks later!). The focus in these moments is to enjoy the conversation and each other's company without further agenda. You can walk away with a lasting memory and an impactful conversation or advice, but without a name or contact information. I find this liberating and freeing; perhaps something only fellow independent travelers can easily understand. It's not about the person, but about the human connection. You never know who you will meet or what you’ll learn if you just smile and say hello.
I booked my trip there this past Christmas (a gift to myself) seven years later, when I was still jet lagged and unable to sleep at 5 o’clock in the morning at home in Portland. Roundtrip airfare was less than $50 from London for a weekend so there was no second guessing myself when I hit the “purchase” button.
I was slightly worried that my experience of the country wouldn’t live up to my expectations that had been building up for so long, but boy was I wrong. After only one day, I knew this was a place I will be visiting again and again. (I had a similar feeling the first few hours I was in Scotland. A place I have continually revisited over the past couple years and also makes the list of "my future homes." More on that another time).
The 60-degree weather in January was glorious, and even though my wearing of t-shirts got a lot of comments from the locals (“wasn’t I cold?!”), I was very content to bask in the sunshine. The people are so friendly and relaxed, the architecture gorgeous, and the hills of Lisbon provided for beautiful views overlooking the Tagus River complete with palm trees. I did a day trip to Sintra--a hillside town with castles, palaces, and forests-and hiked up a steep mountain blanketed in a thick fog. I walked nonstop for 3 hours in Lisbon until my heel bones were bruised (it’s still sometimes painful to walk). I went out to hear live Fado, a type of popular, melancholic Portuguese music accompanied by a mandolin and guitar. And I made my way south to the Algarve region and spent a night in Faro. To top all that off, unlike most European countries outside of the United Kingdom, hard cider was available everywhere! It's safe to say my time in Portugal was WAY too short.
I never think twice about traveling alone. I like hanging out with myself and have found that being independent when traveling is a great way to meet people and not be tied to others’ needs or wants. It’s just easy to me. I bring along a book, enjoy people watching, wander around for hours, and like to get lost in my own imagination.
But looking back on my weekend in Portugal, it feels like I was never alone, like I went there with a friend the entire time. I think this speaks to the friendliness of the people and the great conversations I had with other travelers and staff members I met in the hostels I stayed at. We exchanged stories of our life voyages and shared travel tips. We talked about our pasts and our futures. We discussed what we wanted out of life and let our traveling minds dream away without boundaries. I feel like I made several friends that weekend (as often happens when a bunch of solo travelers get together with a few drinks), yet I can't remember half of their names and know I will never see or hear from many of them again. (Although I did meet up with one in Edinburgh a couple weeks later!). The focus in these moments is to enjoy the conversation and each other's company without further agenda. You can walk away with a lasting memory and an impactful conversation or advice, but without a name or contact information. I find this liberating and freeing; perhaps something only fellow independent travelers can easily understand. It's not about the person, but about the human connection. You never know who you will meet or what you’ll learn if you just smile and say hello.
The more I travel and the more people I meet from a variety of cultures and backgrounds, the more inspired I become about this complex world we live in. I have never feared for my safety. And I believe that there is more good in this world than evil, regardless of what the media might tell us.
Portugal and its people have stayed with me much longer than the three days I was there. I will never forget the moment I rode away on the train out of Lisbon towards Faro, looking back towards the city. The sun was setting, the sky pink, and I was listening to Daughter on my iPod, thinking to myself that no postcard will ever be as beautiful as that image is in my mind.
Portugal and its people have stayed with me much longer than the three days I was there. I will never forget the moment I rode away on the train out of Lisbon towards Faro, looking back towards the city. The sun was setting, the sky pink, and I was listening to Daughter on my iPod, thinking to myself that no postcard will ever be as beautiful as that image is in my mind.