cont'd from Pt 5
27 Dec was the penultimate day of our trip.
Not sure about the girls but I know I showed signs of "wuu-huu...I don't want to go back..."
Because going back means going back to mundane old life. And although I missed my (creaking) bed in Aberdare Hall, I had somewhat gotten accustomed to the vagabond routine after 14 days of nomadic travelling. And I've had loads of fun, which makes the withdrawal symptoms even harder to bear!
The itinery for the day was rest and relax, plus covering tourist spots we left off from the day before.
Sao Jorge Castell is located on a hill, overlooking the city. We went up there at about 10am and stayed till noon admiring the view from the top, and soaking up the sun...
We descended from the hill and came down to the Praca de Comercio. It is easily the most majestic square in Lisbon - unmistakable with that breathtaking arch the erects proudly in front of Rua Augusta, the main pedestrian shopping area downtown.
Picure courtesy of Strawberry World LisbonFrom there we went to Baixa-Chaido, which is akin to Bintang Walk back home. We walked around, poked into a few shops and surprise surprise, it was nearly tea time. Due to a tummy that was on strike the day before, I didn't have the appetite for any delectable Portuguese pastries. But I was going to make amends that afternoon anyway.
Adeline said we absolutely have to catch a Fado show before we say bye-bye to dear Lisbon, so we did. But we didn't exactly buy tickets to the show because the places we identified from the guide book and maps given by Tourist Information were either unidentifiable or just weren't available. As we were walking back to our hostel, we chanced upon a guy who was standing outside of his restaurant (couldn't remember if he was having a fag or just some fresh air), but anyway, he called out to us and asked if we were interested in Fado.
We passed looks to one another, and sincerely, if you could draw balloons on top of our heads, it would have to be "is this guy psychic?"
Fado is a traditional folk music that is melancholic as it is nostalgic.
Having surrendered Malacca to the Portuguese back in 1511, we know from history that they are a bunch of people with enriching culture, so it simply wouldn't do us (or them) justice if we didn't try to catch any performance showcasing some of their fine heritage.
Apparently, it's free at the restaurant (but we would have to pay for dinner) so we thought, why not, since we needed to eat anyway so we booked a table for 3.
It wasn't any surprise that the place was expensive (by Lisbon standards). A 3-course meal for almost 40 Euros, man that has got to be the most expensive meal I've had!
The ambience was right, but too bad the waiters spoiled it for us. Stupid of them anyway.
As we entered the restaurant, they asked if we wanted them to take care of our coats. Being on the alert, we politely declined.
Guess what the chief waiter said.
"Why, are you afraid we're going to steal your stuff?"
That was stab number 1.
I think maybe being ill had something to do with me being subdued that night, because ordinarily I would have just thrown him back with a "Why, precisely! Such a mind reader you are!".
As we took our seats, he "casually" enquired after our origins.
"So are you girls from the States?"
(Me trying my best not to shake my head at YET another person who thinks we're from the US)
"Haha no sir. No, we're from Malaysia."
"Ahhhhh Malayyyyysiaaaaaa. You speak very good English for an Asian. Trust me (he rolled his eyes)."
My ears almost fell off.
Was that some kind of a compliment???
Except I DON'T THINK SO!!!
What was he trying to say huh? That Asians don't speak good English?
EXCUSE ME??!!
Good thing he left before I had a chance to pin him down on the table.
Eherm.
Anyway, we were seated very near to the stage so I guess 40 Euros was worth it. The performance started after we had our starters, so I'd say they timed it well. It was roughly a one-hour segment, which consisted of interesting cultural dances interspersed with solo singing (of Fado music) in between.
Sorry to sound brat-like but the food sucked. My dish anyway. I guess I still wasn't feeling too well from the cold and it probably affected my appetite. I was fine the whole time until I consumed the fruit dessert.
For reasons unknown to me, I felt queasy after just having 2 bites of peach.
The gag reflex was too strong to withhold so lo and behold, I puked.
Yes, right there on the table.
I shall spare you the details but let's just say I was thankful for the following:
a) my napkin (which camouflaged the contents quite well, thank you)
I felt bad for the waiter who was going to clean our table though...
But on second thought, maybe not.
The fantastic four - Adeline, Joyce, Me and San San
No comments:
Post a Comment