Chase A. Wolf's

La Iglesia de Something I Don't Remember

     Chase’s Log 3.25.2010.  From sunny Rome to rainy Madrid, my brief flight – a mostly empty one – was uneventful.  Breezing through baggage, I grabbed a cab to the Intercontinental on the Paseo de la Castellana, and arrived without incident, where I received my normal room upgrade.  I only had one Global Shopping Adventures meeting that day and discovered that the next day was a national holiday – Father’s Day in Spain is celebrated on St. Joseph’s Day.  Who knew?

     After my Global Shopping Adventures meeting, I headed off to find a SIM card for my phone.  On my walk, I wandered through a multi-level shopping center and was amazed that around half of the stores were out of business and there were very few customers to be seen anywhere.  In fact, street level retail stores were empty in many places and there were many signs advertising space available and apartments for sale.  It seems the economic crisis is still alive and well in Madrid. 

Me at Posada de la Villa Restuarant

     I ventured into the Old City for dinner that evening at Posada de la Villa – the ever-reliable Intercontinental Hotel’s concierge’s suggestion – and, like Athens and Rome, Spaniards eat late – it didn’t even open until 9:00 p.m.  Luckily, there were many bars and small cafes throughout the old quarter, so I found one that was fairly full and had some wine and antipasto to quell the rumblings of my stomach.  At the Posada I had their specialty – the Quarter of Roast Lamb which was moist and succulent, and went down well with a couple glasses of red wine from the Rioja region of Spain.  Well-fed, I waddled back to the hotel for a good night’s sleep.

     Sleep was not to be uninterrupted, however, when there came a sudden banging at my door.  Ignoring it didn’t work and Alarm Rooster just shrugged, so I crawled out, bleary-eyed to see who had the temerity to disturb my rest.  

Old City Father's Day crowd

     Opening the door I was greeted by the visage of an eager, unshaven, bandy-legged and pot-bellied maintenance engineer, who, in broken English informed me that my window was inoperable.  We stood there blinking at each other for a full minute – a sort of Mexican, er – Spanish Standoff.  He spoke first informing me that it was most urgent that he fix it immediately.  I stared at him another minute unspeaking – and feigned a Clint Eastwood-style spastic tic in my right eye in hopes that he’d seen a few Dirty Harry movies.  Apparently, he was no lover of the cinema and I finally sighed and let him in, seeing that no amount of non-verbal intimidation was going to work. 

     After many apologies about not being able to fix the window, this disturber-of-my-peace made a call to the front desk.  I tried to explain that I only had one night left and I didn’t give a rat’s hind side about a non-working window, but apparently I got the English-Spanish translation of that phrase wrong – I think I proposed marraige to his toolbox - and he looked at me like I was deranged.  A few minutes later, I was whisked off to a suite, where the window worked.  Apparently they take their working windows very seriously in Spain. 

     That morning I headed out into the rain to find breakfast and found that just about everything was closed for the Spanish Father’s Day.  I’m a father, I thought, can’t I get a cup of coffee somewhere?  Just as I was about to give up, I found a little place to get coffee, fresh juice and a croissant.  I also stopped for a latte on the way back at a place called Harvest – I thought the name was for natural foods, but it turned out to be a tribute to Neil Young’s Harvest album.  My Spanish being essentially non-existent, I didn’t get the back story on that weird association. 

     I spent the rest of the day getting my bags packed for the journey home, emailing and corresponding with Home Office.  Later in the afternoon I went back to the Old City to explore.  The place was packed with people milling about and enjoying Father’s Day, even though it was still raining.  I stopped at a typical touristy restaurant and had a decent meal and then back to the crowded streets.  There are many beautiful buildings and lots of little bars to explore in the Old City but I needed to get back to the hotel and finish getting ready for the long trip home. 

     And that’s it from Madrid. 

Interior of the Basilica del Estrela

     Lisbon, Portugal.  The flight from Spain to Lisbon was uneventful – the Travel Gods off torturing other hapless souls, no doubt.  The taxi driver spoke no English, though I believed it to be a ruse since I saw him mouthing the lyrics to a Snoop Dog song on the way in.  I kept asking for him to turn on the meter, but he shrugged his shoulders.  Unlike most other cities, the airport is very close to downtown, but he asked for 20 Euros as fare – cheap compared to other cities.  I consulted with the hotel staff, who told me the most I should pay is 10 Euros.  We settled at 12 – I was feeling expansive, in this, my last stop on my two-month, fifteen country tour. 

Lisbon's Central Train Station

     Finding hotels in Lisbon is a bit difficult because so many people come here for resorts – it’s important to consult a map when booking, as the resorts are expensive and far from the city center.  Also, there are many listed as 5-star, but really aren’t.  The hotel I chose, the Real Palacio, was at least 4-star and a boutique-sized hotel in a central location.  The staff was efficient and the room I was given was very comfortable with French-style doors overlooking the quiet street.  

View over Eduardo VII park

     Lisbon is a very romantic European city with many beautiful parks, statues and old buildings.  Although there are larger, modern structures, they’re limited in both height and number.  My friends, Jean Marc – an excellent Sensei with many great Aikido students – and his wife Joanne, picked me up for dinner my first night.  

     They took me to the pier where we went to a wonderful fish restaurant, Doca Peixe  - which means “fish dock” in Portuguese, and we shared a magnificent sea bass cooked in a sea salt crust, which we washed down with copious quantities of white wine, and the last

Rua de Comercio

thing I clearly remember from the night  - besides the fabulous food and company – was reaching for my wallet and saying “this is on me.”  I vaguely recall Jean Marc executing some sort of Aikido technique and seeing the floor rushing up to meet my face. 

     The next morning, I roused myself from slumber and took a quick inventory of my body parts – all there.  Everything was functional and I saw a note on my dresser that had instructions to the dojo for evening classes and a cryptic line about how I needed to learn how to fall better.  Harrumph – indeed – it must have been the beastly wine. 

Torre del Belem

     After the hotel’s amazing breakfast buffet brimming with eggs, bacon, sausage, salads, fruits, salmon, cold meats and much more, I finally declared defeat and headed out to my only Global Shopping Adventures meeting of the day.  It appears that many small and medium-sized manufacturers in Portugal have been unable to weather the financial storm of the past year and could not compete with Asia, given the strength of the Euro, and, as such, there’s great interest in my new retail concept. 

Entry to Santa Maria

     After my meeting, I decided to find a SIM card for my phone and to take a general look around.  As I walked through a big park, I spotted a bus with the familiar “hop on-hop off” sign – as described in my post from Rome.  Of course, I boarded and got a map and ear phones to begin my tour.  It was a bit rainy and a little cold, but the tour was excellent and I saw much of the old parts of the city.  I left the tour at the Basilica De Estrela, a beautiful Baroque and neoclassical church which was completed in 1790, and was told I could take a public trolley back to the old city.  I did so and found there were many restaurants for tourists, where I sought out a good place for an early dinner. 

At the Lisbon Akaido dojo

     Back to my hotel I prepared for Aikido training.  I did a little work, answered some e-mails, corresponded with Home Office and headed out to find the dojo by way of the metro.  I had some difficulty, but a very nice woman assisted me with the ticket machine and waved me off to the proper direction.  The dojo is at the University of Lisbon and many people along the way helped me find the right place.  There I saw a number of Aikido people whom I knew from training in France a year ago.  Jean Marc taught a great class and, after two agonizing hours, I was toast.  We agreed to meet for dinner the next day – my treat and my choice of restaurant. 

Jean Marc's favorite course

     No Global Shopping Adventures meetings the next day, so I decided to take the rest of the bus tour and stop at some sights around the city.  There were many interesting things to see but I particularly enjoyed the Torre de Belem (an old fortress), Santa Maria de Belem and the site of the 1998 Lisbon World Exposition.  My choice for dinner was Lisboa Noite, known for its meat dishes, though they also have great sea food.  I greatly enjoyed a veal dish – which by now my readers must know I’m partial to – but I must admit that Joanne’s octopus dinner was even better.  

Jean Marc and Joanne at the square

     My last Global Shopping Adventures meeting was outside Lisbon, where I agreed to rent a car and meet an agent in Alcobaca, about 110km north of Lisbon.  My friends told me to stop at Obidos, if I had the time.  It took me a while to find my way out of Lisbon; the traffic was horrendous and I’m sure I left more than a few wrecks in my rear-view; mess with me not – I learned my early driving chops in New York City and honed them to perfection in Chicago.  I had a good meeting in Alcobaca and then headed back to Lisbon. 

Streets of Obidos

     Having a little time to spare, I took my friends’ advice and stopped at the old walled hilltop city of Obidos.  A Roman settlement was built near the hill and after Rome’s fall and abandonment, a bunch of smelly Visigoths took over the area, before being kicked out by a smelly bunch of Moors who built a castle on the hill, who, in turn, were given the boot by the not-at-all smelly Portuguese in the 12^th century.  Today, it’s a delightfully little walled city, and, with only a few tourists around when I was there, it

Obidos city wall

was a little surreal walking along the ancient streets by myself.  Of course, I found a medieval pub to have dinner and a couple glasses of wine.     I got a little lost on the way back to Lisbon, but found someone at a gas station who spoke some English to direct me to my hotel.  He said “I am not far away, I will show you the way - follow me.”  Of course, my destination was nowhere near his and he went well out of his way to help me.  To the man who showed kindness to a stranger – if you ever stumble across this blog – my deepest gratitude.

Me, Obidos and beyond

     I made it to the dojo in Lisbon to train that night and said my goodbyes to all the fine people there.  I wish I could stay longer and explore this charming country more – what a wonderful place Portugal is, the perfect last stop on a very long and exhausting journey.