Aka: Sometimes you just have to stop and smell the flowers. Because if you don’t you’re going to break your neck….and other precious body parts.
I made it! After two flight cancelations because of Covid, I finally flew to Portugal to visit my younger sister Casey. I was looking forward to visit many of the places I had heard about including beautiful Sintra and Porto. And spend time with my peripatetic sibling.
I’m going to explain two differences between Casey and me that will help explain this story. She is younger than I by 6 ½ yrs. Now that’s not a big deal when we were 28 versus 22. But when it’s 78 versus 71, the spread is a bit more consequential as we age. Secondly, I’m a walker. I have no problem walking 8 miles when I’m touring other cities….okay, I get a bit tired but it’s not a big deal. Casey is a HIKER. She has hiked the Himalayas, for Pete’s sake. Plus she had been living in Lisbon for two years before I arrived. Did I mention that Lisbon was like Base Camp at Mt Everest? It’s made up entirely of hills. Not slopes. Hills. Steep hills.
A day excursion
Tickets are purchased and we are off to beautiful Sintra on the train. It’s a lovely ride. I love the sitting part. Our check list for the day is visiting the enchanting Pena Palace and the Moorish Castle. Sintra is described as a captivating blend of rolling hills, verdant woodlands, and historic castles. Rolling hills my ass! Mountains. This place is mountainous. We flag down a tuk tuk close to the train station and head up towards to the top of the mountain. Almost the top. Even the tuk tuk is straining.
We decide to do the Moorish Castle first. It’s about a half mile walk from where the tuk tuk left us off. The walls and ramparts are ancient and the views of the region are stunning! It was built during the 8th and 9th centuries. I guess the idea was the higher up you were the more protected your were. Mission accomplished Moors! For a long time they were the only ones who looked over the valley and beautiful Sintra.
Casey, the younger hiker, sets off to climb the steps to the top of the castle. Patricia, the much older walker, decides to do the same. Soon Casey is out of sight and I am struggling far behind checking my iWatch for my heart rate. It’s 174. I sit down. I am close to vomiting. I am as dumb as the rocks I am climbing. Fortunately for me I have a quick recovery rate and within two minutes I am down to a normal (for me) rate. Thanks, Mom and Dad, for the good DNA.
Pena Palace
Leaving the woods where the castle is located we have a half a mile hike to the famous Pena Palace. Built centuries later than the Moorish Castle it is much more colorful and comfortable than the latter. When the monarchy was overthrown in 1910 and Portugal was declared a Republic, the last king of Portugal, Manuel II, had to abandon the Palace. It had been his summer residence. The young monarch, chased by Republican revolutionaries, barely escaped Portugal on his royal yacht. (It’s good to be the king!) He fled to Britain where he was welcomed by other royals who colonize places that don’t belong to them.
I’ll bet the Portuguese king never climbed the ‘hill ‘to get up to Pena Palace after he got past the ticket gate. We ‘little people’ have to climb. Hasn’t the tourist board heard of aerial trams? And guess who got to the top first? My younger, in-fabulous-shape, hiker sister. But it was truly worth the climb, along with the magical gardens surrounding it. Seriously. Don’t miss it.
Having finished the fascinating tour of the palace we call our tuk tuk driver. He won’t be able to pick us up for 30 minutes. I get outvoted….how is that possible with two people? We are going to walk down. But not via the nice, smooth asphalt road. We are going to HIKE down. There’s barely a path; we have to climb down over rocks and boulders. No walking sticks. Me with my camera and big ass lens. Casey is off like a shot….or at least to these tired legs it seems so. I tell her to go ahead.
It’s all downhill
I enjoy the hike, my way. I take my sweet time. I enjoy the lovely view and the spectacular flora along the way. As we get to level ground at the bottom of the trail we celebrate with one of the best lunches I’ve ever had. The struggle was real. It made the ending so much sweeter.
It was a gift. I treasure the photos of the canna lilies I made. And they remind me of the wonderful excursion to beautiful Sintra that I took with my beloved sister. The following two days I could barely walk. My aching thighs were screaming for rest and threatening to go on strike. My iWatch had clocked 24 thousand steps and 14 miles. WTF? This was NOT in the brochure.
Not bad for an 8 miler.
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