A Postcard from Lisbon
A Postcard from Lisbon
the Duncan Illing Writes column. To enlighten, entertain and inform.
AirBnb can be a lottery, even with ratings and reviews carefully considered. A recent four-day trip to Lisbon exemplified this point. The picture of the balcony online and in the blue folder guidebook sitting on the apartment’s coffee table showed a balcony of red flowers in multiple planters, a table with two place settings looking out over Lisbon roof tops toward the sea, all graced in sunshine. The reality was somewhat different to the advertised sample, the same table sans everything else, no flowers, but a trashed empty water bottle underneath, a view to the sea, but with a noisy construction site directly behind us.
The usual expected comforts you might expect; coffee, tea bags, a welcoming snack, bottled water, or even the occasional bottle of wine found on a table to greet you at certain AirBnb’s. Where was the sense of pride, service and warmth to welcome guests here? Nothing of the sort, not even a dish cloth, but tie-dyed bath towels, frayed lampshades, the previous occupants’ dirty socks by the bedside, a stain on the bed sheet. It was the way the owner’s representative snatched and recounted in front of us the sixty euros in cash for 'late night accommodation entry’ on top of the hefty fee already paid that said much for our first impressions, this included the fifteen-minute lift from the airport after our evening flight - learning later Uber’s and taxi’s cost far less, and under ten euros. To many here on our first day, we seemed nothing more than a walking cashpoint. Lisbon lacked its expected friendly warmth until we escaped the tourist areas. The apartment now relegated to a crash pad.
On the first morning from the balcony the sun finally showed up after a prolonged overcast start to the day. A giant cruise ship called the Norwegian Pearl sat moored to the harbour quayside ahead, an ugly hotel of tourists with healthy pensions had already invaded the city after their breakfast buffet. It was time to explore. Sat in a cafe hearing only British and American accents around us. Touristville. Exploration for cultural sites and local pasteis de nata custard tart treats commenced. Beyond the hoards staring into their iPhone’s holding ice creams, beyond the passive aggressive restaurant waiters holding laminated high contrast photographs of food, begging for custom, beyond the Tuk Tuk drivers calling out for passengers, and into the heart of the city to find some space. Give me Lisbon not this hell.
Soon walking under the purple leaf blooms of jacaranda mimosifolia trees and out and about in a place I’d never visited before to find its identity and its soul. I knew it had one. Lisbon finally delivered its charm, too big to explore wholly in a few days. Restaurants serving fine fresh fish on quieter streets to in the know locals. Local wines and ports. It’s art and creativity. Onto Sintra with its many castles nestled in lush greenery with strange templar, masonic and occultish overtones at Quinta da Regaleira. Finally, to Cascais, less busy this time of year, slower paced with its beaches and space to unwind. Peaceful. We had found our sense of holiday and escape at last.
More photographs here.
Travelling is a gamble sometimes! Airbnb is definitely a gamble. From past experience, it's not always easy to leave a negative (even if truthful and factual) review. That said, I love Lisbon, I've been three times, but got lucky, I suppose. Agree, Cascais and Sintra are great places and easy to reach by public transport from Lisbon.