The arrival

Storyline: Portugal by trains

---

Sunday Jan 15

It is a week today since we arrived in Portugal. Taking it slowly in the Algarve allowing Alex to adjust to the jet lag and the side effects of his meds. As I write this at 10 am sitting comfortably on one of the couches in the living room of our Lagos apartment he is napping on the second couch. And I am fighting possible food poisoning, but this is for later. Arrived here yesterday afternoon and today is to explore the city.

We departed from the unbelievably busy Pearson Airport last Sunday. Our first international travel post-Covid 19, exactly 3 years since the last one in Morocco in January 2020. Little did we know then what disaster was approaching the world and our heads like a global tsunami. The airport then was normally busy with many available tables around in terminal 1.

This time, 3 years later, it was crazy busy. I had to ask a guy if we could share a table with him. Thankfully he was OK and so we ordered our pre-departure drinks as we usually do.

It sets up the tone. Being Aeroplan members, we decided on premium economy. A lot more leg room and good recliner seats without the out-of-our-reach cost of business class.

So, we managed to sleep during the flight. Something I usually can’t do.

Air Canada food was OK, but why couldn’t they warm the buns?

Even the main dishes were just lukewarm. Or the breakfast tiny croissants? They were freezer cold.

And this is in premium economy. Far from Air France, past experiences of course.

We were bussed to arrivals gate from the apron, quite far from the terminal. There were no lineups so we breezed through customs, had a breakfast at Starbucks and then took the metro (subway) to Oriente train station. This is one of a few major Lisbon train stations and only 3 stops from the airport. We’d take a train to Faro from here. Bought our seniors’ tickets. First class was recommended and the price different is not that big. Note that senior’s discount of 50% is given at the ticket kiosk after the clerk checks your documents; passports in our case.

We found the area around the station to be a dingy though practical network of concrete walkways. Twenty-five years after its inauguration, the interior of what was probably a bright, forward-looking facility has not aged well. The washrooms were not usable at all. No toilet seats, no toilet paper and no water. Just pee puddles around. But there is a shopping mall across so this wasn’t a problem.

From outside, though, the complex still looks impressive. Wikipedia provides good information about the area (Gare do Oriente – Wikipedia) with a reference to Toronto’s Brookfield Place. Our description above provides the reality based on what we saw. But the Architecture is impressive and the platforms were nice. The area around the ticket kiosks had other booths, mostly closed. But there was a practicality everywhere. On the side of the booths, one could charge their phones for example. Alex did.

” Oriente Station is situated in an urban area of reclaimed industrial and abandoned buildings fronting the northern margin of the Tagus River, situated 6 kilometres from the city centre.

Ambitious in its conception, the modernist station includes a Lisbon Metro station, a high-speed commuter and regional train hub, a local, national and international bus station, a shopping centre and a police station…

With some influence from Gothic architecture, the station bears considerable resemblance to Santiago Calatrava’s earlier Allen Lambert Galleria within Toronto‘s Brookfield Place. Calatrava’s objective was to realize a new space with ample room and functionality providing multiple connections between various zones in the metropolitan area of Lisbon. “

Walked though the mall where Alex had a nice meal for lunch (squid-ink fettuccini), while I was fooled by a bean and spinach soup label.

Boarded the train 20 min early and settled in our seats. Good we did. Shortly after, a North American group swirled by. Judging by their behaviours we think they were Americans. They claimed that they had the same seats as we did. “They double sold it again, as it was yesterday” the older man stated. And so, they settled around in front of us until the conductor came. After some explanations the conductor didn’t buy, they had to pay for new tickets. “No, no, no good! You have to buy tickets now or leave.” They wanted to pay with credit card. “Cash, no credit!” “We don’t have cash” was the quick answer. The conductor repeated again that they either have to pay cash or leave. They were going to Portimão (in southern Algarve), but had tickets to Porto (in the country’s north) or so. In the end they found the cash. From the conversation it seemed like they had bought tickets online in December. Who knows if they knew the difference between Porto and Portimão then (Alex: I certainly didn’t. But then I wouldn’t have assumed that they were the same place. I’d have checked which one I needed.)

There was no window next to us, but the windows front and back were so dirty that nothing could be seen anyway. A guy across from us was sneezing and coughing; we had our Covid masks on. He eventually moved to another seat shortly after departure. The rail tracks were quite bumpy, although this is not a narrow-gauge track.

Back to the toilets. In first class they were a disaster. Tiny, dirty, dysfunctional. Worse than many a train we’ve been in. And we took quite a few through Malaysia and Thailand.

Finally, after checking in and doing some grocery shopping before the stores closed, we sat in a fantastic burger place for dinner.

What, this is a burger place? I wish all the burger places were like this one. It was the bowls, I guess. The name of the place was Burgers and Bowls.

We had port sangrias; white for me, red for Alex.

We shared our absolutely delicious meals (bowls, not burgers):

fresh cod with almond and fig crust, veggies and sweet potato mash; Stuffed eggplant with veggies and parmesan.

And so, 27 hours after we left home, we were ready to crash in our clean and comfortable Faro, Algarve accommodation. And if I look tired in all the photos of this post that’s because I was.