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We landed at Humberto Delgado Airport in the afternoon and, as ever, I wait patiently by the carousel for our luggage, Vadinho comes to me with the cart to pick up our bags, fumbling as usual; he almost passes over an old woman who look at us furiously. It's funny that I think about this lilac-haired lady, all straight-faced, like an old lady, since I'm a sixty-five-year-old woman, but I've always been so far from feeling old, my real age is so misguided for methat I feel as if it was an odd, tacky outfit that does not fit me. I grabbed my husband’s hat which fell on the floor and put it on his head, giving him a little kiss, just to not lose the habit.
He kisses me back and makes thatfunny face, adjusting his mustache, as soon as he sees the amount of suitcase I brought for this trip, I disguise with a falsely innocent look, thinking that he must be right, I exaggerated. It had no need to bring four suitcases, many of them full of useless things, such as our little photo trunk and souvenirs, but then I remember: this is the last honeymoon I spend with my husband, where is itwritten that just because I'm dying, should I neglect my appearance and wear big lingerie, like a parachute? No way... I brought so many lingerie andnightdresses, and some indecorous gifts that if Vadinho knew, he would be able to find a way and catch me hiding in the airplane's bathroom.
We took a taxi that goes through the historic center of Lisbon, allowing me to briefly fill my eyes with the beauties of this part of the city, so unique, with its narrowstone streets and secular mansions full of charm.
We stayed at the Lisbon Carmo Hotel, in the Santa Maria Mayor district, five minutes from Rossio train station. While Vadinho takes care of helping the concierge offload our bags, I open the doors that fronts onto the balcony, take off my shoes, finally leaving my feet free and I sit in a chair of a Victorian tea table, enjoying the privileged view that we have: The Castle of San Jorge and the Tagus River. I do not know how long I've been watching the comings and goings of the people from Lisbon, a lady walking on the sidewalk absentmindedly singing a fado, a couple of teenagers passing by, laughing loudly, until I felt the warmth of my beloved's hand caressing my face with a melancholy air. I tiltmy head to receive a little more of his caresses, almost purring like a cat savoring a plate full of milk, he sighs looking at the view and speaks tenderly:
"Is that how you wanted our honeymoon, hummingbird?" Vadinho asks me in a half-choked voice.
“Yes, I want to explore with you every street in this city, to know the beauties of this land, to go to a fado’s house, to fill myself with the delights of Lisbon and when we return to the hotel, rest quietly in your arms.”
"Oh, I’ll say yes for everything, especially the part of being in my arms, but not only is to rest, after all, this isour third or fourth honeymoon?”
***
I straighten the hemline of my red satin dress with an envelope neckline and take one last look in the mirror, enjoying my appearance. I feel pretty today, even with chemo, my hair is still full; I comb them, making a messing bun with a few loose strands covering my forehead and cheeks.
Through the mirror I see Vadinho tightening his tie and I smile silently thanking Our Lady of the Conception, whom my nurse Valeria is devout, for having a man who, even from the flower of age, still causes a sigh in many women.
"My clothes are going to embarrass my irresistible pair?"
I glance sideways at him, pretending not to notice that he has mastered in his production: chalkboard suit, glossy leather black shoes, and a felt hat that gives him a dangerous look, like Al Capone.
"It’s not bad!" I say, holding back the laughter as I try to escape my husband's tickling attack.
"What did you say, woman?" He laughs, and his nervous fingers attack me with no chance of defense.
"I will withdraw, I will withdraw what I have said, please, clemency, I am old, crazy man, old people have the problemof loose bladder.
"Are you calling me old piss, Mrs. Lisa?" Vadinho asks me, looking bad.
"No way, even if I was, you'd still be mine, my old piss.”
“Oh! You’re kidding me.Let's go before this old piss will leave you here starving.”
I rub my mouth lightly on his and smile with my lips still glued to his.
“No cod with cream, bacon from the sky or pecan pie?”
“Ok.”
"I'll remind you of it later, when you come with your gentle conversation to warm your feet in mine.
I give my arm to Vadinho to explorer the night in the center of Lisbon, our adventure began knowing Figueira Square, near Rossio Station, that is the Lisbon train station which connects the city to several other cities in the country. The subway is next to it and is called Restauradores by the Portuguese.
In D. Pedro V Square, where the monument to Dom Joao I is located, we could see that the stones of the boardwalk are the same as those of Copacabana.
By Augusta Street, famous for its traditional restaurants, we continue to walk towards Bairro Alto, but to get there, there is no way, it has to be through trams, which are here called electrical or elevator.
The Santa Justa Elevator, designed by one of Gustavo Eiffel's disciples, yes, the same as the Paris tower, curiously like the Lacerda Elevator in the city of Salvador, Bahia, connects Baixa to Bairro Alto in seconds. From above, the view of the Bairro de Alfama fills the eyes, playing upthe imperious Castle of São Jorge. The Bairro Alto is an interesting tourist attraction, which reflects well the joy and the synthesis of bohemia and the good Portuguese gastronomy. It is a lively place full of restaurants, bars, fado houses and small shops.
Vadinho reserved a table for us in the Bota Alta restaurant, on the narrow Travessa da Queimada Street, a simple but really good restaurant, famous for having one of the best codfish in the town.
A short, mustachioed waiter greets us with a huge smile on his face and noticing how I looked at a small space with tables almost together, he speaks in his overseas accent:
"Welcome, we do not have luxury, but here you will taste the best cod you've ever eaten."
Vadinho receives the menu and the wine list and hands me over, smiling as he seesmesigh deeply, when a waiter balances a tray with a roasted kid that smells deliciously good. While we decide what to eat, Vadinho asks for a jar of sangria and the waiter, who, now, I know his name is Tobias, returns to our table with the covert, a rustic bread crusty outside and very soft inside, olives, present in all Portuguese tables, and Nisa cheese, which I learned later, by our friend Tobias, that it is a cheese made from raw milk of cow, sheep and goat, with the rind washed with bell pepper, it’s creamy and has a mild taste, remembering the best dishesfrom Minas Gerais.
I look at the menu, full of various types of fish, such as severna grouper, squids with tomatoes, and meat dishes, but I do not even think twice about baked cod, accompanied by braised onions, potatoes and olives. Vadinho decides to leave the common place of Portuguese cuisine, the classic cod and olives, and prefers Alentejan pork.
The table next to us is empty, but less than ten minutes later, a young couple takes the place, cheerful and smiling. The woman, dark-eyed, about twenty-five, in a good shape, and a man with an unusual beauty and Asian features, a beautiful couple.
Tobias brings our dishes and as soon as I taste mine, I forget the good manners and I moan a sonorous "hum" that makes the couple next to us give a wide smile. The cod steak is very good, juicy, without excess of salt, and roasted with onion cut roughly, with a sweet touch, potatoes, olive and olive oil, in the right measure.
Vadinho eats his food slowly and offers me a generous bite, so that I can taste his plate. Pieces of pork fried in olive oil, washed down with a laurel broth, wine, coriander, garlic and vongole, which give a maritime touch to the meat, they are fabulous.
Some chips and cabbage salad, like the American cole law, to wash down. I chew slowly to notice the complexity of the flavors and unable to hold, let loose another gluttonous groan, making my husband laugh at my voracious appetite.
The young Asian man sitting next to him seems tense, drinking one glass of wine after another, the couple talks intimately, his eyes rest on the woman in front of him, who seems to be no one else in this place, only her, the brunette who certainly is the girl of his life.
Vadinho kisses my knuckles and whispers softly:
“I do not want to be nosy, but it seems that the kid next door, will have to try to double this little girl, why are the little ones like that, the image of the devil?
"You're paying attention to the others conversation, Vadinho. Just like an old gossip-maker, and you are calling her your little girl, aren’t you afraid to sleep on the couch?"
Vadinho laughs mockingly at my threat and I shake my head falsely making an ugly face for my love, but I am surrendered by his whiskey eyes, which since I first saw them, continue to knock down all my barriers.
The boy next to him stutters nervously, disagreeing with something the girl says and without anyone waiting, kneels in front of her, holding a jeweled box open. Apparently, the poor man asked her to marry him, but she watches the ring and without saying anything, runs bumbling into the bathroom.
I cannot avoid helping when I see the look of desolation that takes the boy’s face, he sits back in the chair and his eyes are covered with tears. Oh, Lord, I must not interfere in anyone's life, I just have enough problems, like my last days of life, to worry, but I cannot resist, I excuse Vadinho and go to the bathroom, like a third age cupid.
I enter the bathroom and as soon as the door opens, my first sight is that girl, who is leaning on the marble counter in front of the mirror, drying the corner of her eyes. I stand by her side and pretend to wash my hands until I stop being silent, seeing the expression of her face the complete confusion in which her mind plunges.
"I'm sorry if I look like a meddling old woman, but I could not stop listening to your boyfriend's request for marriage, he's your boyfriend, right?
She nods and silently waits for me to continue.
"Why didn’t you take that, dear?"
"Aurora, I'm Aurora, and you?" She says with trembling lips, rubbing her eyes copiously, trying not to cry.
"Nice to meet you! I'm Lisa... And so, why did you leave the table in that way without an answer to your request, honey?"
"Ah, Mrs. Lisa, I love Ken, but our relationship is very difficult and forbidden, I was a nun and he... Well, it's all so complicated, what I want most is to be able to say yes, but unfortunately, it's not so that simple.
"I see, what I can assure you, at the height of my sixty-five, is that life is never as simple as we want, but if it were too easy, I think it would lose some grace. I've been married with Vadinho for forty years and I confess that I'm a long way from living the perfect marriage that people dream about. We’ve never lived a sea of roses, but, I still love that man so much, that every moment I lived, laughing or crying next to him, was worthyfor me. Do you love him enough to try to find a balance with him, a path that you can walk together?”
Aurora insists on wiping away the tears that sneeze on her face, and I come closer to her, putting my hand on her shoulder, supporting this unknown girl at this crossroads she is in.
"I love him so much..." She stutters, her eyes are glittering, as if she only now realizes how insipid her life is without her lover.
"Then do not leave your man waiting, dear, you know what to do."
Aurora washes her face and dries it out, hurrying out the door with a contagious smile. Before I step out of the bathroom, she returns, unexpectedly giving me a cracked kiss on the cheek.
“Thank you, Lisa.”
"There's no problem, sweet.”
I go back to the table and Vadinho looks at me with a curious air, certainly finding it strange my delay in the bathroom, but I say nothing. I just watch Aurora kiss his beloved, looking dazzled the diamond ring on her finger.
"I asked for two eggs for us, because I know you love it."
Tobias hands me a generous portion of candy and I eat with pleasure, offering Vadinho a few spoonsful.
Five days later, after wandering from Fado houses, visiting São Jorge Castle, the Carmo Convent and going to Sintra, we said goodbye to Portugal as we took the Sud Express train from Santa Apolonia Station to Paris.
SMALL EXCERPTS FROM AN INSANE DIARY