I wasn’t in birthday mood when I woke, quelle surprise. JC had gone out early photographing, as the funiculars and tramways are free of insta tourists. So he had a peaceful few hours, coffee out etc.
I eventually got up and we headed for an outdoor market, with me taking a few stops to rest as we went.
The market was basically a bric-a-brac fest. It really looked as if some people turned up with a suitcase of stuff they didn’t want, and laid it out on a blanket to sell. From what I surmised, others didn’t want it either.
I managed to eat half a wrap then we visited the Museum Nacional do Azuljo, the National Tile Museum.
This is housed in an old monastery. In 1834, at the end of the Portuguese Civil war, monasteries were eradicated, so communities became creative about how to save these establishments/buildings. Somewhere along the way this became a museum, hence the Lisbon tile museum has a Basilica inside. With tiled walls of course.
Beautiful tiles all round. And of course, a quadrangle. Got to love a decent clock.
I liked these tiles extracted from the Lisbon aquarium and the other modern ones.
Not sure I got this one - it's called 'the chicken's wedding'. There she is in the bottom left hand corner.
It was a long walk back - not helped by my lethargic dawdle - but we stopped for pink lemonade by the river which cheered me up. I think I was the only person in Lisbon with a cardigan on.
I skipped supper again so JC ate out alone again. Happy birthday me.
Wednesday 26 June 2024
JC was ill in the night - he blamed the sardines from the day before which may be right. He hadn’t slept well the night before either, so was shattered after two nights of poor sleep. We made a right pair as we left the hotel and made our way to the airport to collect the hire car. We looked as if we’d been on a 24 hour Lisbon bender.
JC drove us up to Mafra where we visited the Palacio de Mafra. Beforehand, we needed lunch which came in the form of anything either of us felt like eating. A croissant and coke for JC, and iced tea and soup for me.
The palace is huge - I suppose that’s how palaces rock - but at one stage it also housed ~300 monks. Construction started in 1717 and initially it was going to be quite small, but then money started flowing in from the then Portuguese Brazil, and everything got upscaled. The Portuguese royal family used it as a second home until 1910 when the republic was proclaimed. Very sumptuous inside and you wonder what else the money could have been (better) used for!
It had an infirmary with an isolation ward of 16 beds. Each bed faced east towards the handily installed altar, so even the sick never missed a mass.
The deer antler room was a surprise but not so much as the antler chairs. Not my cup of tea!
The library is the largest 18th century library in Europe and pretty awesome.
As we left the palace, JC asked if I’d drive. It was a toss up between the person who hadn’t slept for two days and the one who hadn’t eaten for two days, so my turn. As I eased myself behind the steering wheel I cheerfully noted that I hadn’t driven a left hand drive manual before (only automatics). “Oh dear,” said JC. “Will you be ok?” “Only one way to find out,” I responded.
Yes we made it to Batalha in one piece. I hadn’t realised how much I drive holding the steering wheel more with my right hand. With any manoeuvre I’d release my left hand only to realise the gear stick was on the other side. I got the hang of it after a while.
Our hotel was an arts and crafts one. I’d fancied something a little plush (it is my birthday week after all). Our room had a balcony facing the monastery. I can live with this. After a long nap JC and I managed to eat out: me half a salad and him a portion of chips. There’s always tomorrow.
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