I wrote this in the airport so be kind,

After spain george and I caught our 1 hour and 20 minute, 7.20 am, flight to Lisbon, Portugal. We arrived promptly at 7.40am.

as soon as we arrived I fell in love. The city was much quieter than madrid and absolutely gorgeous. Most of the buildings were completely covered in decorative tiles. George and I caught the bus from the airport and made our way to the hostel. The Hostel man said that we were too early to check in but we could leave our bags and go explore. Which is what we did. We walked everywhere!! We went to the main Plaza and then wandered about the city and grabbed a cup of coffee. The weather was gorgeous, the sea was gorgeous everything was absolutely perfect. We then decided we wanted to go see this castle, St. George Castle to be precise. We followed all the signs, wandering up all the hills and mountain sides, winding through the tiny little cobblestone roads and alleys till we came across the castle gate. If you had a student ID the price was cut in half, luckily George and I were had such a card :).

It was the best 3.50 euros I have spent. The Castle was absolutely gorgeous and huge. We walked the entirety of the walls, admired the view and wandered the grounds. The story of St George was this (In the words of the Tour guide we were eavesdropping on): Near the village of Lisbon, there lived a dragon, and every few months or year the town would need to gather all the virgins and pick one to sacrifice to the dragon. As long as the dragon had a virgin to eat then it was happy and did not attack the town. One time the girl who was picked was the King’s daughter. He was very upset that his daughter was picked, but the villagers insisted that it was only fair. He was very distraught by this. But one man, George, went to the cave and slew the dragon and saved the princess. The king was so overjoyed that he built George a castle in his honor.

Whether or not a St George ever existed is still up for debate, but personally I would love to believe that there was once a dragon who could taste the difference between virgins and floozies.

Regardless, by the end of our wandering we were getting fairly starving and started to look for somewhere to eat. We started heading back down the hill through some little neighborhoods looking for somewhere authentic. We hit the jackpot. A little local restaurant down an alley where nobody spoke a word of english. Half the menu was hand written, and I am pretty sure the owner lived upstairs. It was perfect. As I know no Portuguese it was a “point and smile” moment. I tried to get something beefy because I kept imaging my friend’s mother’s amazing Brazilian cooking and for some reason thought it would be similar. What we got was not beefy. We got two huge plates of food which we could barely finish + “tapas” of cheese, olives, and bread. One dish was rice with pork and sausage, and the other was fillets of chicken with a delicious sauce on it. The meal overall was very inexpensive for what we got, and to be honest we did not need two dishes.

We wandered around again and ended up going back to the hostel and chatting with the people who were staying in the same room for a while.

The next day George and I ventured to Cascais (pronounced cash-caysh) which will come tomorrow. But as a teaser it is probably the most beautiful little resort/old fisherman town I have ever been to.

Sara