I remember what the weather was like on the first day we explored Lisbon. It was the first city we came to where we didn’t have to wear coats, scarves, and mittens so we promptly donated them and were happy to wear three quarter sleeve shirts. It was so warm, I started to sweat in my arm pits and had to tie my hair up into a ballerina bun so my brunette locks wouldn’t get sticky and wet.
We were relieved to relax in the cool shade of a park eating pasteis, under the arches of the Jeronimo Monastery, and along the dark narrow streets of the old town.
In Belem, we walked down to the water’s edge to sit straight under the glaring sun. A handsome man was lying down on his back near us, with his feet and knees up, his hands behind his head, and his eyes closed, enjoying his sun bathing. He was tan and fit and had a beautiful face with a prominent nose.
We walked to the tower of Belem where we finally felt a cool breeze after we climbed to the top and stuck our heads out the little holes that served as windows and faced the water. I stuck my head out one hole and looked down to the water where a fisherman was standing on one of the many rocks. The sun was so bright that its rays left large patches of silver on the water surrounding the man as he stood there in silence trying to catch something. I kept watching him and the sparkling water like I was hypnotized. Every so often I would lift my gaze to look out to the water and the sun, the view unspoiled by clouds, or crowds, or noise, or heat. It was all so clear – the view and the moment.