Our last day in Porto Santo was met with mostly groans, as only Brian seemed to be excited to move onward to Lisbon. The rest of us could have used a few more lazy days in paradise.
We were up and around at a decent time to finishing prepping our house, and our bags, for our 10:00 a.m. departure for the airport. Though we try to stay organized, it isn’t always easy with 3 adults, 3 kids, and a bag full of medical liquids. Nonetheless, we rallied and had our bags ready to go before Claudia, the housekeeper, arrived to begin her cleaning duties. We sadly handed over the keys and moved the luggage and the kids to the sidewalk, snapping a couple of last-minute photos while we waited for our ride to the airport.
Of the 19 taxis on the island, our favorite driver Rui drives number 16. He was unavailable but sent his colleague, driver of taxi 2. When Emmie heard we were waiting for taxi 2, she exclaimed, “Daddy! Why didn’t you call our favorite taxi guy? Number 16?” This comment was followed by, “Number 2? Is he the guy with curly hair, because I like him too.” (He was.) The taxi arrived quickly, and we were soon at the airport. Eilidh spent the drive waving “bye-bye” to the island while the kids bantered in the backseat.
At the airport, we utilized Portugal’s handy “priority” status for families with small children to get through the baggage line quickly. Just after dropping our bags, we found out our flight was delayed by 45 minutes, leaving us with far more waiting time than necessary at the tiny Porto Santo airport. Between chasing a squealing Eilidh and snacking on airport-quality ham and cheese paninis, we realized that we had left Eilidh’s brand new sippy cup – the third of our trip – at our Porto Santo house.
GeeGee and I took the “Eilidh side” of the plane while Brian sat with the big kids. We fully expected Eilidh to zonk out for the plane ride, but this dream was overshadowed by the reality of our cherubic toddler turning into a legit demon-possessed monster. She sat happily for take-off and sang “whee!” for several minutes before beginning the fight to get out of her seatbelt. Once at altitude, we let her out, but all attempts to cuddle her and get her to sleep were met with talented gymnastic moves, loud whining, and lots of “Nooooo!”
After what felt like forever, we decided to switch tactics and send her to Brian so that he could give it a whirl. She was happy for about two minutes, but by the third minute, Eilidh went full-on berserk. Kicking, screaming, hitting, and flailing, Brian heroically dealt with this monster for a little while before passing her back to me. Eilidh hiccuped, nuzzled her face into my shirt, and passed out within a matter of seconds; the whole airplane breathed a sigh of relief.
Thankfully Eilidh remained asleep for the remainder of the flight, snored through being loaded into the Tula and continued snoring through most of the airport. We gathered our luggage, maneuvered everyone successfully onto the Metro, through a change in trains, and into the familiar Intendente neighborhood where we quickly got our bearings from last year’s trip and found Elsa’s house where we were staying. The walk with our luggage was quite warm, and we made for a sweaty and hot lot when greeting our old friend.
Elsa’s apartment was just as we remembered it from last year, and she had very kindly stocked us up with some Portuguese baby food. (We had attempted to mail Eilidh’s special food packages but Elsa’s attempts to work with FedEx and the Portuguese government for these to be released for delivery was unsuccessful.) After a quick orientation, Elsa left, and we headed to Brian’s favorite Lisbon ice cream place, Mú Gelato Italiano.
Noah ordered OREO; Emmie, chocolate chip.
We took the kids to the adjacent park, where they had a blast on the slides before we headed off to do a little shopping at A Vida Portugesa. I was utterly disappointed in the lack of cork bowls, which I had found there in abundance last year but was unable to purchase due to luggage limitations. After our unsuccessful shopping trip, we made our way towards home and Noah’s favorite restaurant, A Graça Cozinha Portuguesa.
Noah had been looking forward to eating another ham and cheese omelet since we left Lisbon last year, so he was super excited to go back. (Apparently, they are far superior to ordinary, United States-made omelets.) Unfortunately, we arrived for dinner just after 6:00 p.m. but their dinner service and the full menu didn’t start until 7:00, and that meant omelets were excluded.
Noah tried really, really hard not to cry from his disappointment but was unsuccessful. The combination of big fat tears running silently down his cheeks and a quivering lip was enough to do me in, and while I normally would have made Noah pick another entree, in this case, he had been excited about this omelet for an entire year.
After placing our initial order from the limited menu, with help from the Google Translate app, I was able to sweet talk the non-English-speaking restaurant owner into making Noah an omelet more than 30 minutes early. Needless to say, Noah was thrilled, and we all made it through the bulk of our large entree portions.
Brian tried (and liked) the fillets of veal, served with fries, rice, and a modest salad.
I ordered the turkey, also served with the same sides.
After dinner, Brian and Noah made a late-night jaunt to the city’s shopping district to track down a shirt for our upcoming photo session and grab a few of Lisbon’s famous pastries to take back to our apartment.
Noah got a kick out of the of the mirrors in the H&M fitting rooms.
Manteigaria is considered by many locals to serve the best custard pastries in the area, even though it’s less famous (and was significantly less busy) than the more-well-known Pasteis de Belém.
Noah and Brian did a little extra walking (to spend more time together) before taking a two-stop Metro ride back to our Intendente neighborhood.