29th January 2015
Overnight, we had steamed down the English Channel and into the Bay of Biscay, easing quietly into the Port of Lisbon on the Tagus estuary by breakfast time.

Sue and I dressed and readied ourselves for a day out in the city. On the TV in our cabin, we could see the 25 de Abril bridge approaching, the very one the captain had mentioned during his address at the party last night, which links the city of Lisbon with the municipality of Almada. Alongside many other passengers on deck, we captured photos and videos of the ship passing under this impressive feat of engineering. Returning to our cabin, we completed preparations to start our day and then disembarked.

The early morning drizzle had stopped, and, bypassing the queues for the excursion buses and the calls from waiting taxi drivers, we set off to the left of the terminal towards an impressive square visible from the deck of the ship. It took about ten minutes to reach, and indeed, it was as expansive as it had seemed from a distance. After exploring the square, we wandered up one of the pedestrian esplanades leading towards the city centre, stopping briefly in a shop where Sue bought some cards, and a little longer in a speciality store for me to pick up a bottle of 20-year-old vintage port (when in Rome!).

We soon stumbled upon another impressive square and decided to try the custard tarts from a patisserie recommended by the ship’s port presenter a few evenings ago. We perched on some theatre steps and devoured them, deliciously sweet and likely very moreish, had we bought extras.

Our wanderings led us to a rather drab-looking church, but once inside, it was an entirely different story. Unlike the usual gold-laden or intricately painted churches, this one had a fascinating simplicity. It burned down in August 1959 and was rebuilt with care and reverence. The roof had been replaced, and the interior cleaned and refurnished, yet the original structure was left as it had stood on that momentous day, preserved like a time capsule. Sue remarked that she could almost smell the smoke, a sensory effect the restorers had no doubt intended. The atmosphere was powerful; the place was brimming with soul.

Later in the afternoon, we visited the Cathedral, but it was rather underwhelming in comparison, a vast, characterless space filled with various icons yet somehow devoid of the warmth and history we’d felt earlier.

Amusingly, as we were leaving the first church, Sue needed to use the toilets. Onboard the ship, her one-handed struggles with tights, watches, and other essentials have become an ongoing challenge. Buttoning her trousers has been especially elusive, so I’ve been stepping in to help. Faced with the prospect of wandering Lisbon in trousers that might descend to her ankles at any moment, Sue asked for assistance once again. With nowhere private to perform this delicate task, I’m afraid the deed was done on sacred ground. Whether this contributed to the presence of two prostrate priests nearby, I couldn’t say, but celibacy can have its tests!

Next, we visited the Castelo de São Jorge, and we both agreed it was one of the finest ruined castles we’ve ever explored. Much of the structure remained intact, and the missing parts were easy to imagine. The views from the battlements were superb for photography and made the visit well worthwhile.

We returned to the ship via the Cathedral and a short stretch of the old castle walls, arriving just as some of the tour buses returned. Lunch was in the Jardine, after which we retired to the Atrium, Sue with her needlework and me with my book.

Before long, my eyes grew heavy, so I returned to our cabin to recharge my batteries, clearly depleted after five hours of sightseeing. Sue, hardened by years of retail therapy, went up on deck to watch the ship depart and then joined in the fun at the leaving party aft. Afterwards, she did some more embroidery in the Atrium before coming back to the cabin, waking me up in the process, and promptly falling asleep herself. I picked up my book once again.

BBC World Weather informed us that the UK is currently blanketed in snow. I can only imagine the chaos on the roads and the inevitable school closures.

Dinner was “smart informal,” making dressing for it refreshingly quick. Sue had a minor hairdryer mishap, which required the cabin steward to show her the button that makes it work (I wonder how many times he’s done that!). Two of our dinner companions opted for an Indian-themed night in another restaurant, leaving just four of us at the table: Daphne, Colin, Sue, and me.

For our evening entertainment, we watched ‘The Four Tunes’ perform in the Footlights Theatre. We’d seen them on the Oriana, and once again, they did not disappoint. We were in bed by midnight.