Sketching Lisbon in heatwave

Lisbon, June 2017

Walking what looks like the closest route on a map is not the best option in Lisbon. Unless you have a map with topographic lines and know how to read it. That I learned the hard way. And streets that look like "its just a tiny hill" end up vertical around the corner. I went to Lisbon for a week holiday and for a sketch workshop with Pedro Loureiro. After I finished this sketch of the tram at Largo da Anunciada I had to get to the hill on the other side. The workshop was at Mirador da Nossa Senhora do Monte, and about telling the story of the city from above. From this vantage-point we were to simplifying the skyline, sketching a route through the city and eavesdrop on people and sketch what they were pointing out.

There are many beautiful tiled houses in Lisbon. This one and many more at Largo do Intendente.

I met up with Pedro Loureiro and Pedro Alves at Praça da Figueira for their usual Monday lunch sketch. We walked up hill to Escadinhas de Sao Cristovao and had a coffee while we sat sketching  and chatting on the steps. I decided to sketch the amazing mural Fado Vadio that is a tribute to the  iconic Lisbon music and cultural heritage Fado. Maria Severa might have been living in one of these houses. Pedro and Pedro had to go back to work and I stayed to finish the coloring.

Mário Linhares invited me to visit his artclass at Igreja de Sao Roque. The artists showed me their projects and I got a quick private tour of the museum and the church. Mário had access to most of the buiding and I got to see the church from the side balcony and look down from the front were the big canvas was about to be replaced. I suppose that was an angle only a few had seen. Since the staff was worried I would fall out of the big hole I did not stop to sketch there. And I did not want to be in their way. Mário took me up to the church tower with panorama over the city instead. He went back to his students and I was alone with my this view of Lisbon with the swifts catching dinner in the sunset.


Pedro invited me to go eat at the Santo António festival with some friends. We went to Mouraria were the families in a building were throwing a street party with grilled sardines and beer. The tenants were about to be evicted and the house to be demolished for a hotel. They were passing around petitions and a news team covered the story. Anyway, I had my first grilled sardine on bread here. We went in to the official festival and I tried my first Ginginha. And mixed up the words in Portuguese for cheers and peeing and the laughs were on me.



Another "first" was Caracóis, small snails. Pedro's girlfriend Patrícia insisted I had to try this and took me to the best place for it. Well, you don't learn if you don't try new stuff. It was a bit scary to wiggle out the snail from the shell with a toothpick, but we shared a big plate and I kind of liked it.

I was staying at Brickoven Palace Hostel. This was a nice old house with a beautiful garden. I was eating my breakfast here every morning and sketching. The little cottage in the garden was a four room playhouse decorated with tiles inside. A perfect miniature home, but the story say the child whom it was meant for died, so it was a bit sad entering this cottage.

According to the staff of the hostel, the previous owner was a brick manufacturer. I wonder if all the roof tiling of Lisbon came from his factory?

At the hostel I met Sue from Sydney, who had just walked the Camino de Santiago. We decided to go sightseeing together. We thought it could be fun to tick off Tram 28, so we did get in the looooooooong line. There comes a point in waiting when you realize it might not be worth it, but since already spent all that time waiting you just don't want to give up and leave. Finally on the tram it only went a few stops due to embarring for the festival. Total flop, and no information but maybe we could have guessed. Sue was furious because all the time we spent waiting. But I did not really mind, I could always sketch. 

We criss-crossed the narrow streets of Alfama, got stared at by old ladies in windows, managed a few museums and went to Paséis de Belém. Then every thing was awesome again. Mmmmmm. We also accidentally found the tomb of Vasco da Gama, 5 minutes before closing time, in Mosteiro dos Jerónimos. How about that.

People in good spirits tasting the goods outside the Ginginha shop at Largo de Sao Domingos. A happy few sat down beside me and watched me sketching. We tried to communicate, but since they did not speak English it ended up in all smiles and hand signs.

My last day was super hot. I had a morning sketch at Mirador du Monte Agudo that was on the hill a few blocks behind the hostel. You could really tell this is a warm country when there are water fountains for both man and dog available. The dogs knew exactly were to go and the pigeons drank the splatter on the ground.

 

Mário gave me a tip to go to the Carmo Convent. A ruin church turned into a archeological museum. This was awesome. But now the temperature had gone up to about 40°C and being inside these ruin walls was like being in an oven. Sneaking into the air-conditioned museum and staying in the shade was the trick.

Outside the convent at Largo do Carmo were a big drinking fountain. People were splashing themselves and each other, me included. The wind was hot and tearing the eyes. I left to meet up with Pedro and Patricia again at the bookfair at Eduardo VII Park. The walk up Avenida da Liberdade felt like a marathon in the heat, and then a thunderstorm struck with large wished-for raindrops. Unfortunately the next morning, waiting at the airport, I learned the thunderstorm caused the tragic forest fire 150 km out side Lisbon.