Lisbon Life

Elevador da Bica, Lisbon, Portugal

The vintage yellow ‘shabby chic’ tram rattled its way towards me at a sedate pace, skimming its way past the ancient paint-peeling walls of Lisbon’s town houses. I took a step back, not knowing what to expect, an enduring childhood memory of Star Trek’s Captain James T. Kirk losing his lady love to a tram in an early episode of that sci-fi favourite surging briefly and inexplicably into my thoughts. The historic vehicle, known as the ‘no.28’, clattered to a halt seamlessly and safely in front of me, the friendly face of its front end (arched windows above a single nose-like spotlight on top of a broad toothy sidelight grin) reassuring me that my flash-back fears were foundless.
It has been said of Lisbon that a stroll through its beautiful streets is to take a walk through architectural history, and that captures its atmosphere exactly, except to say that here is a city where ancient times meet cutting edge design and style, shiny offices and boutiques sitting easily alongside ornate old buildings in neighbourly comfort. It is not only the capital of Portugal but also one of the oldest cities in the world, its existence having been recorded as early as the 5th century occupying an important place on European trade routes. In Lisbon for a day as part of my tour of cultural Mediterranean towns, I had been anxious to make the most of my visit; my research had convinced me that a tour on the no. 28 ‘Electrico’ was a must see and must do experience, and one of the most cost-efficient and effective ways of absorbing the ambience. Manufactured between 1936 right through to the late forties, these traditional and cheery looking transportation pods were the main means of public travel in Lisbon until well into the 1980s, and trams on the three remaining routes scuttle their way about the streets in a colourful and charming way like busy metallic beetles going about their daily business. Not the quietest form of transport but one of the most fun, no. 28 tram heaved its way up the steep cobbled streets, past monuments and churches, catching glimpses of Lisbon life in fleeting views of side streets as we went.

Monument To The Discoveries In Lisbon

My target destination was the Alfama district, originally built on a rocky outcrop at what is now the top of the city, and one of the oldest quarters in Lisbon; with its blend of Moorish and Roman architecture, it has a distinctly exotic and almost Arabian air about it. The magnificent Castelo de Sao Jorge is the jewel in its crown – built in the 5th century and expanded considerably by Moorish masters in the 9th, it offers the most spectacular views across the City of Lisbon to the River Tagus below. A stroll through Alfama took me on towards the graceful residential district of Graca, and more stunning views from the Esplanada da Igreja da Graca close to the military barracks based in one of Lisbon’s oldest churches. Sunset is said to be best viewed from the terraces here, but for me, my next stop was the citron coloured stately mansion housing Lisbon’s Museo Nacional de Arte Antiga, the Museum of ancient art, for a whistle-stop tour of works by Raphael, Durer and Bosch, and a collection of priceless treasures brought back by explorer Vasco da Gama from his voyages round the world.
Alongside the museum, and standing in striking architectural contrast to its ornately decorated facade is ‘Le Chat’, a stylish restaurant cafe whose seamless glass walls provide a spectacular panoramic vista across Lisbon and the harbour below. It was here that I sank back into my comfortable yet minimalistic designer chair to enjoy an afternoon Panini, savouring my rich Portuguese coffee as I watched the chic people of Lisbon go by.

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Northern Lights in Norway

A visitor from outer space might have been forgiven for thinking they had wandered into a kindergarten of giant toddlers, wrapped as we all were from head to toe in bright red thermal suits with fur lined hoods – it was a comical sight. “It’s so that they can find us in the snow when we fall off”, laughed a fellow traveller nervously, as we eyed the long low bentwood sledges in eager anticipation; the suits were regulation issue for our trek into the arctic wilderness. The polar twilight glowed in mysterious tones of peach and aqua above the distant peaks, its reflection turning the surrounding snow a soft pink hue.
The air was so crisp and pure, it almost had its own aroma, mixed in with scents of warm fur and breathy excitement emitting from our team of huskies. Their luxuriously thick coats were a mix of blacks, fauns and winter white, their broad foreheads and muzzles giving them a friendly bear-like appearance as they strained friskily at their reigns, anxious to set off with us on board across the lunar Arctic landscape.
‘In search of the Northern Lights’, the blurb had said. The elusive wonder of the north, otherwise known as the ‘Aurora Borealis’, is often seen in this part of Northern Norway, and will appear at random on the darkest of nights throughout the winter. It is the result of electrically charged particles in the earth’s magnetic fields causing the gases in the upper atmosphere to glow in a magical light show of blue, green and purple whirling arcs. Whether we were to witness this amazing natural phenomenon or not, the sights and scenery on our cruise along Norway’s dramatic and frozen coast had an allure of its own, and day after day we had been presented with one visual treat after another, each port possessing a unique cultural and aesthetic character.
Our first stop had been Bergen, its harbour lined with quaint and colourful half-timbered buildings, its steeply winding cobbled streets a picturesque clamber up and away from the waterfront.

St. Mary’s Church, 12th century, Bergen, Norway

The funicular railway afforded the most spectacular views across the townscape to the snowy shores beyond.  Farther up the coast, we alighted in the artist-designed settlement of Alesund. Destroyed by fire in 1904, the town was rebuilt in the architectural style of the time, and the resulting art-nouveau buildings complete with towers, turrets, steeples and spires are a photographer’s dream. In Tromso, the cable car ride up to snow-capped Mount Aksla and its mountain lodge rewarded us with breathtaking panoramic views across the city, the shape of the modernist wood-built Arctic Cathedral down below us reflecting the peaks of the mountains around it. The rainbow effects of light shining out through the cathedral’s glass mosaic windows were a magnificent contrast to the neutral shades of this snowy city, and afterwards at a stop off at Macks, the world’s northern-most brewery, we were met with a most hearty welcome.

Art-nouveau building in Tromso

Thanks to the warming effects of the Gulf Stream, this part of the world is far more hospitable than Siberia, with whom it shares its latitude, the ice-free coastlands playing host to a whole range of birds and wildlife. We spotted arctic foxes and bearded seals in Narvik, and enjoyed hospitality and humour from an encounter with reindeer-herding Sami nomads on their coastal farm. Once back on board in the warmth of our cruise ship home, we dined on fresh Norwegian speciality cuisine, including salmon, herring, steaming dishes of meat balls and huge King Crab.
Now, in Alta for our Polar safari, the dog teams were given the signal and we were off. Safely strapped in to our bentwood sledges in pairs, each one covered by a vast Norwegian rug, our cavalcade moved swiftly, the torches of our outriders created a dazzle of diamond-like sparkles on the banks of snow speeding past beside us. The yelps of the huskies rose to a crescendo of excitement that matched my own, as we travelled into the darkness cast by the inky sky above, in search of the Northern Lights.

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Dubai for a Day

“Good view, yes?” An understatement, the words of our kindly Arab guide brought me back from my reverie, his wide grin and sweeping hand gesture revealing his pride at the breathtaking vista that had rendered us so lost for words. We smiled and nodded our enthusiastic response, still speechless at this expansive – and expensive – view of Dubai, laid out far below us like a three-dimensional road map, the dunes of the desert stretching into the distance beyond.
We were standing on level 124, the observation deck of Burj Khalifa, which, at over 160 stories and half a mile high, is the world’s tallest building. This elegant needle-like tower in which we stood is so immense, we were advised, it actually extends Ramadan fasting for its Muslim residents, who can see the dawn ‘til dusk sun for longer than those on the ground. Way down beneath our gaze were avenues lined with metallic-looking skyscrapers, glinting greyly in the afternoon sunlight, like rows of sleek glassy fingers reaching up to us. In any other cityscape, they would be considered neck-crickingly tall.

The Burj Al Arab lit up at night.

Our guide was clad in a white and perfectly crisp dishdasha topped with a red checked gutra head-dress, and I couldn’t help thinking how well he was attired for the wall of heat that had engulfed us as we stepped out of our sleek hotel that morning. Winter warmth was what we’d come for, and that delightful Dubai sun wasted no time in delivering. Our stay in this Arab city of architectural wonders preceded seven nights of on-board pampering on a luxury cruise around the Persian Gulf, and the wow factor had started before we’d even landed. The sight from our aeroplane window of an elaborate archipelago of man-made islands of which we’d heard and read so much brought a series of gasps from our fellow passengers, as shapes of world countries and then palm trees emerged from the blue of the ocean below. This is where wealth and fantasy meet, I thought, as I marvelled at the dreams of its creator, Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid Al Maktoum, the absolute Monarch of Dubai.

It occurred to me, from my privileged Burj Khalifa viewpoint, that Dubai is a city of extreme and fascinating contrasts; the hard polished architectural surfaces of its fabric are in stark opposition to the rich dark treacly substance that has given its founders their wealth, and the golden desert sand on which this cosmopolitan metropolis is built. Space age structures tower over ancient souks, carrying on their market dealing as they have for centuries, their bustling bartering traders seemingly oblivious to the space age city that has crept up to co-exist beside them. Where the souks will have traded their way with the breadth of the Gulf and beyond in ancient times, the new financial district has taken up the mantle as a business hub of global importance.

Burj Khalifa

The most striking aspect of the city for me was the opulence, everywhere we looked. Everything we saw or touched was of the finest most lavish quality that money could buy, but somehow not in a vulgar way. Precision-laid roads are roamed by cars that are as much of a head-turner as the buildings that surround them – Lamborghini, Bentley, Rolls, Ferrari – all gliding smoothly along as though there were a six star car convention in town.
Perfectly groomed and pristine walkways are laid out with lushly planted arrangements of palms interspersed with highly scented Bougainvillea, and exotic birds trot prettily through the immaculately planted hotel gardens. Highly polished marble walkways in a range of intricately coloured patterns and perfectly swept to keep the desert sands at bay, led us through hotels and restaurants and duty free shopping malls, all competing with each other in their elegance and style.
Returning to the splendour of our magnificent hotel, we pondered that we could probably have stacked more than a couple of houses in the foyer alone, the greens and blues of the exquisite glass sculptures there reflecting like jewels in the radiance of hundreds of tiny lights around the walls and columns and in the vaulted ceiling way above us. At the end of the hallway, a giant aquarium delayed our ascent back to the indulgent comfort of our room. Tomorrow we were to join our ship for our tour of the Emirates – Abu Dhabi, Muscat, and the exotic sounding Al Fujayrah and Khasab – but for now we were lost in the world of Jules Verne, gazing eye to eye with a giant thick-lipped Grouper fish, as a honey coloured manta ray flapped its way elegantly past in the background.

                       

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