FIRST STOP – LISBON, PORTUGAL

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Today, we arrived at our first port-of-call; the capital city of Portugal.

Lisbon is an interesting city, with an interesting history, old buildings and distinctive trams that whisk visitors through the old, steep streets. We’ve been here before – loads of times, which is the reason why we agreed to almost any escort duty the Shore Excursion Team wanted to give us.

I’ve lost count of the times I’ve stood at the top of Edward VII park and photographed the expansive view down, across the city, glanced at the weird memorial fountain located there and murmured the same tired old phrase ‘it’ll be nice when it’s finished’.

Usually, I get put on the Estoril trip, but today, my tour took me to Cascais, which is literally next door to Estoril, only slightly more interesting. It has a fort and a harbour full of fishing boats, and the one hour free time we were given there wasn’t too painful at all.

The guide on my coach, Sofia, also helped to make the trip entertaining. As we drove under the massive old aqueduct that spans a broad valley near the West of the city, she told us that folks used to walk along it in its 16th Century heyday. That was until women started mysteriously plummeting from the turrets to their deaths, at the hands of Lisbon’s first serial killer; a man whose only reason for doing it was apparently to steal the money in their purses.

The story became more interesting, and slightly macabre, when she explained that when the man was finally caught, he was the last person in Portugal to receive the death penalty. To try and find a reason for his behaviour, they took out his brain to study it. To complete the image, she confirmed that the head is still available to view in a museum somewhere in the country, suspended in a vat of clear liquid. ‘He was blond’ she said ‘and quite good-looking’.

The return drive to Lisbon, along the coast road, took us through several villages, pausing for one final photo stop at the Momument to the Navigators.

And to end the day – what better than a glorious sunset?…

Peter Woolley

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