travel writing

Lisboa, adoro-te – My thoughts on Lisbon, Portugal

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José Saramago, Portugal’s renowned Nobel Prize winner, once wrote, “We always arrive in the place where someone is waiting for us.”

What if, however, that “someone” is a city? After all, do cities not have hearts? I believe they do. Some are warm and some are cold, but each has it’s own essential personality/characteristics. Do we arrive at a city which “is waiting for us”? It’s how I felt about Lisbon – it had been waiting for my visit. For years I’d been wanting to go, but somehow other trips would take precedence and I’d let the notion of Portugal go for the time being.

Until recently.

Before my departure, a friend of mine (someone quite wealthy) gave me her account of Lisbon.

“Well, it’s kind of…dirty. Run down. But I liked it…sort of,” she recounted.

Though my Lisbon, (Can I call it that? Mine? Will he be upset that I have claimed him, the city, as my own, such the foreigner that I am? And why have I deemed him male when other cities such as Rome are so female to me?) was far from “dirty” (Although I’ve always been partial to dirt) and there was no “sort of” in my opinion. My love for the city is definitive. After all, I just laid claim to it here, didn’t I?

It was lovelier than other cities I’ve been to and it wasn’t because it’s cleanliness or cohesive architecture (which I love architecture so very much.) In fact, Lisbon is quite a mess architecturally, so to speak. Expensive buildings mixed with cheap prison-looking facades of recent took my eyes by surprise. However…. inside of that mess lies the kind of beauty that Neruda speaks of in one of his famous Love Sonnets.

“There are purer than you, purer.
There are lovelier than you, lovelier.”
….
“When you go through the streets
No one recognizes you.
No one sees your crystal crown, no one looks
At the red carpet of gold
That you tread as you pass.
The nonexistent carpet.”

I saw the crystal crown of the city and it’s people though…each time I took a walk…

I came to appreciate the beautiful buildings much more so than in any other place I’ve had the pleasure to visit. The perpetual underdog of Europe has something that the other more aesthetically pleasing cities don’t – it has the mess. Because you see, in between the architectural wonders of centuries past are ugly monstrosities of buildings irupted like small pox during the sixties and seventies to replace the fallen down ancient structures. By seeing the lovely original buildings next to the nasty replacements, I appreciated the beauty even more-so than in those cities where nothing is out-of-place and every facade blends with the next..

And the people? They have the same flavor as the buildings. They’ve been built up, torn down, burned down, smacked down and built again….only to remain strong.

I was right at home.

In conclusion, Lisboa, adoro-te

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Comfort, A Photograph of France

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“Comfort has its place, but it seems rude to visit another country dressed as if you’ve come to mow its lawns.”
– David Sedaris, Me Talk Pretty One Day

This is my first real visit to France. I’ve stopped in a time or two on the way to somewhere else, but never stayed long enough to truly meet the people. The only French man I know happens to be one of the nicest people I’ve had the pleasure to meet though as an American, I was told virtually my entire life that the French would be rude should I visit. I should’ve known better and tsk tsk on me. How is it that I can go my entire life defending us “obnoxious” Americans while abroad, yet, because of what others say, have a preconceived notion of what the French are like. I feel rather stupid, to say the least. 

In fact, having been to Italy more than a dozen times, I never quite fit it. Don’t get me wrong though, I love the country. I love the history and I love the people. Although my Italian friends tell me that I don’t look or act Italian. I stick out like a sore thumb; I don’t wear that much make-up, my personal style (which I do love fashion) has always been more conservative or “vintage” and lastly, I talk and smile with people – I’m friendly. Here in France though, nobody stares at me like they do in Italy, I dress the same as most women here and when I smile – they smile back, they hold doors, they say thank you and even the women wish you a good day – and no, you don’t need to be purchasing something to gains smiles and chatting.

This morning at breakfast I sat and chatted with a nice German couple on their way to see the areas around Grasse. The owner of the Bed & Breakfast, Monique, showed them on the map how to get to their destinations. I found myself envious of their plan – I had none.  After they left, Monique asked me what I’d be doing today. I told her I had no clue, maybe Cannes, and asked what she recommended. “Cannes is full of tourists. You don’t look like you would like that. I see you don’t like those things. Let me show you where I go.” she responded. Music to my ears.

By the end of the day I had driven through the beautiful countryside, chatted with numerous locals and in some villages, felt I was the only one in the streets – completely safe and decided that my trip to France would be the first of many yet to come. My relationship with Italy is by no means over, it’s just a good friend now, instead of a lover, that’s all.

Below are a few photos I took today while exploring. They show the simplicity, yet elegance of the French style.
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Grace, A Charcoal

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“The light of love, the purity of grace,
The mind, the Music breathing from her face, 
The heart whose softness harmonised the whole —
And, oh! That eye was in itself a Soul!” 
– George Gordon Byron

I have very few regrets in life, although I have had many blunders.  The one I do have is related to a purchase of all things.  A purchase I put off, thinking I would return and find it still….

For a few years I would visit Rome every three or four months or so.  I didn’t stay in the touristy places, but outside of them, in a neighborhood in which I often found myself lost – the only English speaker.  Near this neighborhood (I wish I could remember the exact area name) there was a flea market.  The gypsy’s and bric-a-brac vendors would sell their wears.  Three times I visited the same antique booth and three times I coveted a large alabaster statue of The Three Graces.  It was beautiful.  The woman selling the piece wanted 120 Euros for it and I never had the funds to spare.  All of my money was spent either on travel or on entertainment while I was there and even then, entertainment often consisted of low-budget stuff.

Each time I saw it I’d tell myself that it was overpriced and the next time I’d return to Rome, have the money, and maybe, just maybe, the woman would lower the price.  The very last time I visited Rome over a year and a half ago my intuition told me to just buy the damn thing…although it would have taken all of my money for the week…so again I told myself, “Next time.”

There was never a next time as it turns out.  I’ve come across many statues since then of the three graces, but none as lovely as the one in Rome.  I’d like to think I’ll find it again someday, if not in Rome, then another flea market somewhere far away…

Three Graces - Jennifer Allison
Three Graces – Jennifer Allison

A Building Not Mine – New York, New York

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“I love New York, even though it isn’t mine, the way something has to be, a tree or a street or a house, something, anyway, that belongs to me because I belong to it.”
– Truman Capote

I spent part of this week visiting a good friend of mine who just moved to NYC from Spain for love…  We first met in Verona, Italy while both of us were visiting and became fast friends.  Just a few months later she left her home country of Spain, along with all of her family, to begin a life in New York City.

New York has this energy – an energy I find difficult to describe in words on a blog for fear I can never do it justice.  The streets are art – without trying to be so…

I could’ve taken at least a thousand photos, but decided to keep the camera in my bag for most of the time (only snapping a few here and there) and simply let myself enjoy good friends, excellent food and the energy of the city.  I’m glad I did.

NYC walls
NYC walls
NYC Walls - Jennifer Allison
NYC Walls – Jennifer Allison

Palm Springs, California and Amazon-Struck

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“I’ve never fooled anyone. I’ve let people fool themselves. They didn’t bother to find out who and what I was. Instead they would invent a character for me. I wouldn’t argue with them. They were obviously loving somebody I wasn’t.”
– Marilyn Monroe

I’ve never been a Marilyn Monroe fan.  It’s not that I disliked her, or even thought her talentless.  In fact, she was pretty good in Some Like it Hot.   I’ve just never been one of those people to be star-struck I guess.  I’ve been poet-struck, humanity-struck, philosophy-struck and even love-struck at times in my life, however I’ve never really “gotten” the star-struck phenomenon.

Although when I was wondering around Palm Springs alone last Friday afternoon before heading home I found myself confronted with a 26 feet tall Marilyn statue.  Essentially the artist turned her into an amazon – larger than life.  Originally I was simply captivated by the photo opportunity but after arriving back at my hotel to pack my things I began wondering what it was about her, besides her look, that held so many people, including the artist who sculpted the statue, in such awe.  I spent some time while home researching the buxom blonde a bit more and found that although she was a stunner to look at, she also seemed to have a brain as well, which I respect.

In fact, the quote above seems suited for many people – myself included.  I find that when people actually take the time to get to know me – not what perceive me to be – but really know me – I often hear, “I had no idea you were an artist, write poetry, like to… [insert word here]”  Sadly, some of those people have been part of my life for years.

This amazon woman, standing 26 feet tall in the bedazzled and bejeweled city of old Palm Springs perhaps should have a small plaque beside her gigantic foot that begs the question – Who do you really know?

Large - Jennifer Allison
Large – Jennifer Allison