Portugal Day 3: Lisbon!

When we left off, we were sitting in the airport lounge waiting for our second attempt at getting to Lisbon.

Honestly, the lounge was actually super nice and quiet, so we got a little work done and Kaylea managed to squeeze in a nap. About 40 minutes before boarding, Kaylea changed into pajamas with the full plan of immediately passing out the second we got into our seats.

Which sounded great in theory. Except boarding was kind of a nightmare.

Our gate was literally the very last gate in the terminal. Like a solid 20-minute speed walk from the lounge, and by the time we got there, the vibes were already bad. We had gotten rebooked into separate seats, and apparently half the plane had too because multiple people kept asking us if we’d switch seats so they could sit with their spouses.

Somehow though, we lucked out. Another couple was in basically the exact same setup we were. Aaron was behind the husband and Kaylea was behind the wife, so we swapped seats with them and ended up sitting together after all.

The rest of the flight was honestly pretty uneventful minus some random bumpiness in the middle. As promised, Kaylea absolutely zonked out during the first meal service and stayed unconscious for basically the entire flight. Aaron literally had to wake her up during breakfast so she wouldn’t completely miss it.

And finally… we made it to Portugal.

After the unexpected Washington D.C. detour and spending an entire night wondering if our luggage had entered another dimension, getting off the plane in Lisbon honestly felt surreal.

We were lucky enough to fly business class on the overnight flight, which made a huge difference after the long travel day.

Usually, airplane sleep means slightly reclining, folding yourself into a strange shape, and hoping your neck forgives you later. This time, we could actually lie flat.

It was easily the best either of us has ever slept on a plane, and for a brief moment, international travel felt almost peaceful.

Then we hit customs.

And dear lord.

The line, if you could call it a line, was PACKED. Not “ugh this is annoying” packed. More like “we may actually die here” packed. Between customs and waiting for our bags, it took us almost two hours to finally get out of the airport.

Our driver’s name was Bruno, and within about 30 seconds of hearing him speak Portuguese, we realized all the Portuguese we’d been practicing for months was terrible.

Every phrase we thought we knew suddenly sounded suspicious. It felt like we learned Portuguese from Duolingo’s cousin who once visited Brazil for a weekend.

Still, Bruno got us into the city, and Lisbon immediately felt way bigger than we expected. In our heads, we had pictured something smaller and quieter. More quaint coastal city. Less full-on capital city.

But Lisbon feels alive. Busy. Layered. A little chaotic in a fun way.

One of the first things we noticed was the street art. It’s everywhere. Graffiti, murals, painted walls, bright colors tucked into corners and stretched across whole buildings. Bruno told us Lisbon takes a lot of pride in its graffiti artists and muralists, and once he said that, we started seeing it everywhere.

The traffic, though?

Slightly terrifying.

At some point during the drive we both started quietly wondering how hard it was going to be to get back to the airport for our trip home.

Eventually we made it to the hotel and instead of pretending we had energy to go hardcore tourist mode immediately, we decided to go straight to the spa to unwind.

Steam room. Sauna. Pool. At one point Kaylea was laying by the pool fully starting to fall asleep and honestly came dangerously close to ending the day right there.

But it was getting close to dinner time, so we rallied.

On the way to dinner, we walked through Praça do Comércio, which is one of those places that immediately makes you understand why people say Lisbon is beautiful. It is a huge public plaza right on the water, lined with cafes and shops, with a giant statue in the middle and a massive arch that makes every photo look more dramatic than it deserves to be.

It is one of the “must visit” spots in Lisbon, and it felt appropriately grand. The kind of place where you should probably be eating seafood, drinking wine, and reflecting on centuries of Portuguese history.

So, naturally, for our first meal in Portugal, we had ramen.

I know.

We flew across the Atlantic, landed in one of the great food cities of Europe, walked past historic plazas and waterfront cafes, and then chose noodles. But we were tired, hungry, and ramen sounded comforting. Sometimes the heart wants culture. Sometimes the body wants broth.

The ramen was good. The tipping situation was less smooth.

Aaron had no clue what the tipping culture was here, and when the card machine came over he tapped the card and the transaction just… ended. No tip screen. No percentages. No panic-clicking 20% out of American guilt.

The waiter walked away and we immediately became convinced we had accidentally offended him.

So naturally we handled this in the dumbest possible way.

Aaron bought a completely unnecessary Coke Zero afterward and left a giant tip on that instead.

Was this the correct cultural move? Absolutely no idea. But emotionally it felt right.

After dinner we kept wandering around and stopped for a pastry we had heard was legendary.

To be fair, it probably is legendary when warm. Ours was not warm. We'll have to try those again.

Eventually, we found Praça Dom Pedro IV, which has this incredible wavy cobblestone pattern that almost does not look real. It looks like the ground is moving, or like someone installed an optical illusion across an entire plaza just to mess with tourists who are already sleep deprived. There was a big market set up in the plaza, and Kaylea found a fancy decorative bookmark she liked.

By this point we had been awake long enough that every tiny accomplishment felt massive. The biggest win of the night was making it all the way back to the hotel without using Google Maps once.

Technically, we still had plans.

Aaron had already mapped out a quick walk to Castelo de São Jorge, the giant castle overlooking the city. It was close. It was iconic. It was exactly the kind of thing we should do on our first night in Lisbon.

We fully intended to go.

We just needed to lay down for like… five minutes first.

The next thing we knew, it was dark outside.

Jet lag: 1
Us: 0

We called it a night.