Bem vindo a Portugal; A Portuguese Fairytale (part four)

With little sleep from staying out the night before, we all woke up and got our stuff together to not just go to Sintra for the day, but stay the night in a small fisherman village close to there. We ate breakfast and got ready, but the Aussies weren’t awake. Sam didn’t think there was any way in hell they were coming. The rest of the girls were amused that we had asked them a long. Finally, I walked into their room, and in my version of a whisper (we all know I can’t whisper) asked them if they were coming with us. They snapped out of their alcohol-laden slumber and got ready. Sam was in shock.

We all got ourselves to the van along with the Aussies, packing up and ready to go, but Nick had disappeared. He had gone to get snacks, and came back with four beers and a box of cookies. It wasn’t quite 11 o’clock in the morning.

We easily found out way headed in the right direction, and began what was appearing to be the smoothest day we had had on the trip. However, smooth for us was pretty bizarre for the Aussies. They were hung over and sitting in the back of a 9-passenger van full of American girls. Every few moments you could hear the clicking noise of Nick opening up another beer. As we drove on the freeway they began to notice how much attention we drew.

“Yeah, we’ve gotten used to that,” we said. “I would stare at us, too.”

We reached Sintra and immediately started out search for the Royal Palace and Moorish Castle. It didn’t take long, considering they were at the top of a tall, forested hill, and Sintra is a small town. We headed for the hill and started our drive up the curvy road, seeing the castle through the trees covered with ivy. Once we arrived, we entered the Parque E Palácio Da Pena, the land surrounding the palácio, which was basically a summer palace for the royalty of Portugal.

To say this area was beautiful is a grave understatement. This place was what dreams are made of. It was every fairytale rolled together, only real. I felt like any fairytale could’ve taken place within the walls of the parque. There was a luscious forest with ivy and ferns, beautiful flowers, cobblestone walkways, duck ponds, stone gazebos, quaint bridges, and anything else you could imagine would exist on royal land.

While the seven of us girls were gaping in awe and suddenly feeling like 6 year old girls again, imagining our lives as princesses and walking the premises of the summer royal palace in a mystical land, the Aussies were more than likely questioning their decision to come with us. They too were enjoying the landscape and beauty, but not mentally prepared for a day with seven American girls. They kept calling us a bunch of “loose units” which basically means crazy and unpredictable. However, I know we made their trip to Portugal extra special.

After walking through the forest and up the hill, we made it to the Royal Palace. Once again, it was so fairytale-esque, it didn’t seem like it could be real. Gray stone decorated with yellows, pinks, and purple tile work made up the majority of the palace walls. But the stonework was elaborately decorated with carvings and classic palace structures, but also with sea gargoyles, and slight Arabic influences. It was the most amazing palace I had ever seen.The Palacio Real in Madrid was so stuffy and over-done. Once inside this palace, it felt like a real home. It was beautiful but also reflected it’s purpose; a summer palace by the sea. From the palace you could see the Atlantic all around you, and the beautiful land below spotted with terracotta roofed houses. The inside walls were decorated with cooling yet cozy colors creating an atmosphere that represents how we often feel in the summer; refreshed and relaxed.
It was really interesting to learn about the royal family of Portugal, considering its history isn’t something we have learned about. The queen was originally from France, and over 6 feet tall. All photos of her with the king had her sitting down. The king was a good-looking man solidly built with a handlebar mustache and youthful eyes seen even through faded old photographs. Apparently he and the queen were in love and courted, but once they were crowned king and queen, their relationship fell apart and he took on multiple mistresses. Not every fairytale has a happy ending.

After a small break at the café outside the palace, we continued our walking through the forest to other landmarks on the property. The Aussies were tired, more than likely experiencing a mixture of coming off hangovers and being cold since they didn’t bring any jackets and it was a cold day. When the trip began they told us they had retired from walking. They had begun the Camino de Santiago, a pilgrimage in Spain, and ended it by taking a bus. Nick walked with us to our next sites but Dan stayed behind.

We walked to a cross on the opposite end of the parque, and back around to where we started to warm up and eat some snacks before heading on to the Moorish Castle. Once we reached the castle, I felt like I had slipped out of one fairytale into another, with many of the structures reminding me of Narnia. How do you describe a castle? Its meant for protecting, not living. Its walls ran along the edge of the hill with a perfect view for seeing trespassers coming. The wind blew hard and the flags at every end whipped in the wind.



We were all freezing, especially the Aussies who had to borrow some sweatshirts from us, so we called it a day. The clouds moved in overhead threatening to pour, and we took the Aussies to the train station for a 30-minute ride back to Lisbon. They had been great company during the day offering much comic relief and helping break up the constant flow of estrogen in our nine-passenger van. We exchanged information, asked them to visit in Granada, and said our goodbyes. They will be traveling in Europe until November.

After dropping the boys off, the rain started to pour down and we headed to Cascais, the small fisherman town where we were staying the night. It was very close and we made it there easily and with a parking spot so close to the door we barely had to stand in the rain. The hostel was a perfect place to come to at the end of the day with comfortable clean rooms, a cozy living room full of beanbags and couches and a big screen TV. We were wiped out, but managed to get ourselves out and go eat dinner at a restaurant, the first time we’d really eaten out the entire trip. We went to a small family-owned restaurant with traditional Portuguese food, mostly consisting of seafood. It was the perfect end to a perfect day, and our heads hit our pillows hard back at the hostel. The next day we were going to Cabo de Roca, the most western point of Europe, and drive back home to Granada. We had a long day a head of us, and a long day behind us. We had no idea what hijinks we’d get into the next day.