Boldly Go Solo

I had just one day to spend in Lisbon and I wanted to hear fado music. I didn’t actually know what fado was until a Spaniard clued me in, as I was  leaving Madrid for my Lisbon stopover. Then I just HAD to experience it. Because, when in Lisbon, do like the Lisbonians do, that’s what I always say.

So after a day trip to hilly Sintra, with its many palaces and castles, I cracked open a Rick Steves guidebook. That led me to a fado place called Campo do Camoes in the Baixa Alto section of town. (No, I wouldn’t be able to pronounce those for you.)

The place was mighty empty. Then again, it was a Monday night. While I was examining the menu out front, Antonio, who "belonged" to the restaurant, motioned for me to come inside. I was still deciding. He then offered to take me out for a drink after the performance. As soon as he was off for the night.

Uh, no. But, thanks for the offer, Antonio.

Then a couple came by and began scanning the menu too. Tracy and Jeremy from Cincinnati also had ended up at the Campo place because of the
Rick Steves guidebook. We had a laugh over that and debated
whether the place was too touristy. We decided to go for it anyway. Tracy invited me to join them for dinner.

We were pretty much the only ones in the dark restaurant. That’s
because we Americans tend to eat sometime around 6 or 7 pm, when most of Portugal, it seems, sits down to dinner more in the range of 9 pm. And later.

The entertainment began at 9 pm. The place
didn’t really get a good crowd until after 10. (And a lot of them seemed to be related to the performers.) By then the
performers were on their fourth set. And we were finished with dessert.

I probably wouldn’t have stayed too long if I’d been alone.
But I was enjoying the music and the good company. We stayed for well over three hours, exchanging travel stories in between sets.

This is what I find so astounding about travel.
Jeremy and Tracy would not have asked me to join them if
we’d both been reading a menu outside a steakhouse in Cincinnati.

But
it made perfect sense, during a visit to Lisbon, for them to invite a
stranger to sit down with them. We were on vacation. We were
eager to talk with each other about what we’d seen and done in Portugal.

When we left the restaurant, my three-hour-old friends offered to walk me back to my hotel. I declined. We said goodnight and walked off in different directions. Each with a good story to tell when we got home.

Photos: Ellen Perlman

1. Portion of a mosaic in the National Palace, Sintra, Portugal.

2. Fado singer, Lisbon, Portugal.