08/18 Lisbon, Portugal

18 Aug 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

08/18 Lisbon, Portugal


Eventually we exhausted our rail pass in Lisbon.  It felt good to slow down our pace and relax from the routines associated with traveling by train.  We chose a place where the locks worked, the toilet flushed and the view down onto the street below was descent.  By the time I reached for the second bottle everything had a rosy glow, and the food was excellent.  I must have had quite a smile and/or my wallet was showing because every young lady looking to trade sex for money introduced herself.  We were still sporting the hash we had smuggled across the borders but also carried an uncomfortable feeling, so we ended up smoking it a lot faster than we had originally planned.  That night it provided a surreal mood that painted the streets like a bad dream and presented something to contemplate.  The most difficult pill for me to swallow was to try and understand why some people came into this world with such disadvantages.  I know that the great lesson is that we each our brother keeper and I should never avoid giving assistance to those who ask for it.  But when I look into the eyes of a man with no legs and no arms who for years has been propped up behind a jar and sign asking for sympathy in the form of currency, I ponder, why?  Do they suffer to test?  Do they suffer to teach? Do they suffer?  I am so humbled.  We hung around for awhile, enjoyed the food, wandered about and eventually headed north into Nazare, a small fishing village.

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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