Usually when I travel — be it inside the United States or out — I have a friend traveling with me. Together, we make our way through various airports. Together, we find ground transportation to our hotel. And together, we ultimately join up with our pre-arranged tour group. Sometimes we face glitches along the way — like getting off one plane only to learn that the next one has been canceled. But, again, we face it all together.
Recently, though, I traveled alone to Portugal. Yes, I was meeting up with a tour group once there, but getting there was mine and mine alone, as was meeting this new group of people.
As I hugged my daughter, Lisa, goodbye on the day I was leaving, I tried to be confident as I told her, “I can do this.” But that wasn’t quite right, so I amended my wording to match my reality as I said, “I AM doing this!”
My confidence faded a bit when the trip got off to an inauspicious start — I got lost going to the long-term parking lot at the airport in Cincinnati. I’ve been there dozens of times, but somehow, I couldn’t find it that day. Like “Brigadoon,” it had vanished.
I was grateful I had plenty of time before my flight, that I had GPS and that it was broad daylight. After thirteen miles of backroads, I was finally parking my car. And nineteen hours later — including a five-and-a-half-hour layover in Paris — I was landing in Porto. My first thought — accompanied by a jab of fear — was, “What on earth am I doing here?”
The literal answer to that question was that I was celebrating the release of my new book. After months of delays and discouragement, it had finally come out on September 15th. A month later, I was headed to Portugal. None of my friends were able to go on short notice, but I needed to celebrate, and so I did. And for that, I am very grateful too. And let me add…
It was a wonderful trip.
Here’s what I liked best:
– A tour of the Cockburn Port Cellar — I loved seeing how port wine is made and especially loved the tasting session at the end. Three wines were paired with three chocolates for a wonderful taste treat.
– Going to Corticorte in Azaruja — this is a family-operated cork factory. Here we learned about the harvesting of cork from a cork oak forest nearby and saw the low-tech way it is processed into planks of cork. These ultimately get turned into many products beyond bottle stoppers. In Portugal, one can buy cork wallets, purses and shoes. Happily, these items were sold in the gift shop on the premises.
And this was a blur:
– Whenever I go house hunting, after the second house, I can’t keep the homes straight, and that is how I felt about the palaces, churches, convents, monasteries and walled cities we saw. All gorgeous, ornate and amazing, but all a blur to me.
However, this stands out in my mind:
– The Evora Chapel of Bones — the walls and pillars of the chapel are lined with thousands of human bones and skulls. In the 1600s Evora was a wealthy town. Monks thought the bones would give the citizens a place to contemplate the transience of material things and the presence of death. There is a message above the chapel door. Translated from Portuguese it says: “We bones are here, waiting for yours.”
And this is a weird takeaway:
– The Batalha Monastery is a UNESCO World Heritage Site with a problem. The limestone from which it is built is experiencing biodeterioration. This means diverse microorganisms — fungi, bacteria, lichens and algae — are altering the stone. One of the changes is superficial but very striking to the eye: discoloration. Instead of white stone, it is black and yellow in a lot of places.
As a homeowner with a 40-year roof that only lasted 25, I am sympathetic to the many ways a building can fail and I came away grateful — and chuckling — that my problem is so small by comparison.
These comments from tour guides also had me laughing:
– As we were warned to keep an eye on our belongings, the local guide said, “The pickpockets are so good they can take your socks without taking your shoes.”
– And as we boarded the bus for a long stretch without a rest stop, our tour director said, “From now on I’ll be controlling your bladders.”
And these are my parting images:
– When I look back over this trip, I will remember Portugal as a place with very narrow roads, all seeming to go uphill.
– And I will remember the way the tour company pampered me with fine hotels and great meals ever-flowing with wine.
These are fitting images since I went to Portugal to drink a toast to my often-uphill journey to publication.
In both of these journeys, I morphed as an individual too. I went from saying:
– “I can do this.”
– To saying, “I AM doing this.”
– And now I can say, “I DID it!”
Portugal and publication. I am grateful.
