Day 28 - Lisbon, Sintra, Lisbon
I’m not sure I want to re-live today, but I guess the journal will not make sense without it. Our plan was to see Sintra, maybe stay the night, and then hit the road to Seville, but by days end our plans changed a little, as did our feelings toward Sintra and Portugal.
So we did the right thing, parking the camper van in the designated parking, choosing a park on the end of a row so we didn't take up multiple car spaces, levelled the van, turned the gas on (for the fridge), closed the windscreen blinds to protect the van from the sun, then locked up the van - double checking that the doors were locked as we always do, because you have slam the cabin door to get the latch to catch. We then walked to the bus stop for the 434 public bus that does a circuit of most of the main attractions.
The queue for the bus alone was a mile long in front of the train station, but we were lucky enough to just get onto the first bus after we bought tickets. We only waited about 30 minutes. However, because we were the last onto the bus, we were left standing for the drive. This was unpleasant, particularly for the girls squashed in amongst people not able to see much. The traffic - as forewarned, was atrocious. It was bumper to bumper traffic for the last couple of kilometres as people tried to squeeze their tiny cars into even tinier spots on the side of very hilly roads. We were on a typical suburban public transport sized bus and how it turned around some of the steep hairpin turns was a feat. The bus even bottomed out on one corner and dragged along the ground. In other places the road was cut into the mountain and I swear you could not have slide your hand between the rock and the wall of the bus. Just as in Porto. It must be a Portuguese thing. I guess they drive these roads multiple times a day everyday - the driver didn’t seem bothered at all!
We finally got off the bus short of the gate to the Parque e Palacio da Pena, because traffic was moving so slowly it was quicker to walk. We entered the grounds at the entrance of the lakes and started our adventure through the grounds following the path next to multiple lakes in a valley. The grounds seem to be so large, that even after walking a few hundred metres uphill behind the palace, the grounds seemed to stretch for a kilometre or more still in the other direction. We meandered our way to the top of the hill and decided we’d tackle the palace early in our visit, given that at the gate we were told the queue was only 20 minutes long and can be up to hours long.
Our first views of the palace were breathtaking. Not just because of the size and structure itself, but the facade is beautifully decorated - brightly coloured paint, mosaic tiles, and various other textures. The approach to the palace was quite mystical in itself. The path went over a draw bridge, through arches and climbed to a plaza atop the outer wall. From here you could while away the afternoon relaxing in the sun, climb a castle like turret - for views over the grounds, and enter the palace itself.
The palace is the most important in the cultural landscape of Sintra, and is now a UNESCO World Heritage site. Its history dates back to medieval times, but King Ferdinand II is credited with the creative genius and expression of 19th century romanticism that is the palace and grounds of today. The castle is high on a Sintra hill and designed to be visible from anywhere in the grounds. On a good day they say you can see it from Lisbon.
After visiting the palace, it was back to visiting some more of the grounds. We had a look at the statue of a warrior on the way to the grounds (and the Sintra hills) highest point - the High Cross. Kristie was glad we’d made the effort, for a postcard photo looking back at the full palace from across the grounds.
We then decided to join the queue for the bus back to town in the hope of squeezing in another sight before the day was out. We caught the bus back to Centra Historica and viewed the outside of the National Palace, but from here we could walk a short distance to the Regaleira Estate - that I’d been advised by Ely from work to visit for its magical grounds. We made the supposed 15 minute walk in under 10 arriving at 5:15pm, but the last entry was 5:00pm and the entry gate was closed - despite the grounds being open for another 2 hours. This seems to be a thing here. So all we could do was look at the amazing grounds through various fences and gates and head back to town. Sierra and I thought we’d both easily be able to conquer the rock wall and get in for free, but I suggested being locked up in a foreign country was not a good idea if we got caught.
When we got back to Centra Historica, we decided to walk the few kilometres downhill to the train station, rather than wait for the bus. So we followed some interesting footpaths and small roads through the back village, back to the camper van. Everyone in good spirits despite all the walking, the kids sliding down the double handrails in the middle of the stairs into the car park, as they have been doing everywhere they get the chance in the steep steps of the old towns we visit.
When we got to the camper I put the key into the lock of the cabin door and turned it in the direction to unlock it and nothing. Turned it back the other way and “click” the door locked. Turned back again and “click”, it unlocked. Still not thinking anything too suspicious I said to Kristie we didn’t lock the door, but I remembered how we’d double checked that all the doors were locked as we do everyday when we leave our humble abode.
Inside strangely (this will make sense in a minute) the first thing I noticed wrong was the girls iPads weren’t under the dining table on the seats where I last saw them. This was my first thought of “uh oh” - I’m being polite here. So then I went to lower the bed above the dining room table to check on my laptop when the reality of the situation punched me in the face. Before I even got to lower the bed to check under the mattress where I hid the laptop, I saw that the seatbelt buckle (which locked the bed up when travelling) was undone. This is when I realised the gravity of the situation and that someone had invaded our private space. Sure enough checking under the mattress, the laptop satchel was still there, but no laptop. My baby, my pride and joy, my holiday memories in digital form, my access to the internet was gone. It felt like my heart had been ripped from my chest.
That’s when I said the words to the others that “we have been robbed”. Sierra screamed and both Madi and Sierra got quite upset. A quick look through the van and it appeared they had taken the girls iPads, the laptop, and my GoPro. I felt like such a fool, as this was probably only the second time in 4 weeks that I had not carried my laptop in my backpack around with me all day. Having it stolen was a constant fear now realised. It wasn’t obvious at first that we had been broken into, as they had not ransacked the van, but on closer inspection they’d taken the time to go through everything. They’d closed windows shutters that we left open (I guess to create privacy for their raid), little things like souvenir key rings from Kristie's bag were out, they they were clever enough to look for and take my Australian power cord for the laptop. They opened the GoPro case and took the camera, then left the case and an unopened memory card. It was strange, but we are grateful for being spared the psychological trauma of having the van ransacked. The thought of the invasion of our privacy is bad enough.
My next thought was to comfort the girls. So we sat down around the table and I got the girls to look me in the eyes, then mummy, and then each other. “We are all here, we are all safe, and it doesn’t matter what anyone has taken from us we are here and safe together. We have each other and that is what’s MOST important”. They calmed down, but the sadness of losing their iPads was still evident. I then called the Sintra police and they told us we had to come to the police station near the train station. So off we went, stumbling across it fairly easily as we saw a police car parked on the road behind the train station.
Driving to the police station, I remembered seeing the girls iPads in the morning, and thinking I’d better hide those, and I did. When we arrived at the police station we pulled the dustpan and shovel out from its place in a magazine type holder on the floor beside the fridge and there hidden away were the girls iPads. Feeling mixed emotions - I think this was the first time I showed any emotion, I was happy I could give back something that meant so much to the girls to cheer them up (and it showed by the smiles on their faces), all the while still grieving the loss of my precious Macbook Pro and GoPro.
So I spent the next hour filing a police report and getting little sympathy from the police - though empathetic to our situation. I asked if this was normal, and in broken English/Portuguese I got from the conversation that it does happen because "this is a tourist area, but it was not normal".
By this time the sun had set, and we didn’t plan on staying another minute in Sintra, yet we had never driven the camper van after dark before. Not that it bothered me, but Kristie was not keen to go far, so we decided to return to Lisbon (an hour away) and free camp in a designated area of the park near to the caravan park we stayed in the two previous nights. When we drove to the site, there was not another vehicle in sight and it was in the middle of what seemed like a dark and dense park at night time, so we thought after our day, the security of the Lisbon caravan park was the go.
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