When father and son go out… (2/3)
Chapter 2 out of 3:
1/3 A city of explorers: Somewhere between Vasco da Gama and overtourism
2/3 Come on down to Portugal: When father and son go out…
2. Come on down to Portugal! – When father and son go out…
Sometimes, Christmas makes us have the best ideas. “Dad, you should just come down here. To Portugal!” Hop on a plane and escape the miserable weather! He was lucky. Window seat on a direct flight. Three days in Lisbon, the day after Christmas Eve. A Christmas present. A gift for both of us! Aboard two new eMTBs, the age difference shouldn’t matter. Or so I thought…
As art director of E-MOUNTAINBIKE, I have the opportunity to spend my winters in Lisbon thanks to my flexible work structure. Trails that end in the sea, waves hitting the reefs and sun that just keeps on hanging around have long persuaded me to spend the winter months in Portugal’s capital. For me, this city is no longer an insider tip, but the logical place to be if you’re looking to escape the winter. By now, it feels like home and I know my way around. So it was time to show my dad the azulejos, the Fado and the trails.
With a rental battery in the trunk and 15° C in the shade, I wait at the Lisbon airport with the sliding door open. I have to be quick as I’m not allowed to park here for long. After a delayed flight, my dad comes out of Terminal 1 with his bike bag in tow, as if we’d planned it that way. A helmet dangles from his hand luggage and his blue, flat pedal cycling shoes are already on his feet. Perfect, we can head straight for the trails!
“Shit, your car is dirty!” My dad’s always been direct. I always know what he’s thinking because he tells me! There’s no mistaking what the time is either. The sun is starting to set and we have to make the most of it. So, we jump in, drive home and change, ready to ride our bikes up and down, over and under.
Once in the city, we start our ride under a bridge in the Santos district. Far to the left on the map. More specifically, under Ponte 25 Abril. It is the third-longest combined road and rail traffic suspension bridge in the world. It stretches across the Tagus estuary, named after the date of the Carnation Revolution, a military coup directed against the authoritarian dictatorship that ruled into the 1970s, ushering in free democratic elections and rewriting the constitution. Painted red, it is one of the city’s most photographed attractions, connecting the hip district of Alcântara with the suburb of Almada.
On a newly paved bike path along the Tagus River, you pass joggers, e-scooters and stands selling macaroons as you head towards the city centre. By now the sun has already started slipping behind the horizon. We stop and enjoy its last warm rays on the banks of the river. Then we shift up a gear.
Five minutes. That’s all it takes to get into the centre of the action. In Lisbon, nothing is more than a stone’s throw away. The city centre is packed with stairways, cobblestones, old walls, traffic jams and streets so narrow you have to fold in your side view mirrors. With our bikes in Turbo mode, we ride slalom through the jammed traffic. Dad is loving it, at least it seems he is judging by the motocross noises he’s imitating, pretending he’s cranking the throttle.
Save battery capacity and hold on! We let the tram pull us up the mountain on its 900 mm track, taking us into the crowded alleys of party goers. Bairro Alto is a hotspot for pub crawlers, frequented by those looking for a great time. Most of them are young exchange students from all over the world. We ignore the age difference and treat ourselves to a quick beer. Saude! And we’re back on our way. We tap the brakes only lightly before left-right cornering combos as we weave through the houses, spurred on by the growling of our bellies. “Attention! Priority to the right!”
After what feels like 15,000 steps descending later, we hit the brakes and lean our bikes against a piece of street art made by Vhils using explosive charges. We’re in a courtyard that smells of curry and cannabis. A small oven warms our calves. We might be in Lisbon, but it’s still December. The menu of the adjoining restaurant has something for everyone, even for those who don’t eat fish or meat. One of everything please and two beers!
As our hands get colder, the music in the bars gets louder. Time to move and order another round of drinks! Off to Le Baron! Previously in Paris, they’ve now moved and rolled out the red carpet in Lisbon. Red neon lights, chairs covered in velvet and dancing to funky disco tunes on carpeted floors. The disco ball sets the mood, my father, the pace! We dance, laugh and drink until the bouncer turns on the lights. We’ll pay for it in the morning!
Croissant and coffee for the hangover. The sun is high in the sky and we’re feeling light-headed on our bikes. This morning, we set our sights on the Alfama district. A labyrinth of some of Lisbon’s weightiest historical buildings. Formerly the poor district, today it’s a must-see on every tourist’s itinerary. It’s better to get here early if you want to avoid pushing your bike!
I realise this morning that my dad has more street cred than I do. He goes higher on the wallride and lower in the club! He enjoys the urban jungle, I prefer the forest. We order a quick coffee at a kiosk, pull up our knee pads and roll down the mountain towards the west. We quickly get out of the city, into Lisbon’s green lung.
Covering an area of 800 hectares, Monsanto Park is now a local recreational area for city dwellers. Easily accessible, it lets you forget that you’re in a capital city. You can reach Monsanto’s highest point in less than 10 minutes. We enjoy the view of the city from the roof of an abandoned restaurant and take a moment to appreciate the time we’re spending together. I often find that our conversations have been reduced to me phoning only when I need help with something. Either because my car broke down or because I don’t know which way around the dowel is supposed to go in the wall. It’s good to just spend time riding bikes with my dad for a change. After all, he’s the one who introduced me to biking when I was still into soccer. Two energy bars and several memories of past bike holidays later, we get back on our bikes and head down towards the city. We blast down the trails. As always, my dad sets the pace and any age differences are quickly forgotten!
Life is fast in this slow city. As we all know, time flies when you’re having fun. As does our trip, which ends with even more custard tarts, which, by the way are called pastel de nata. Despite doing a lot of exercise, we must have gained between 1 and 2 kilo in three days. Thanks to Lisbon’s excellent kitchens!
Dive into the following three chapters:
2/3 Come on down to Portugal: When father and son go out…