Arriving in Lisbon

I arrived in Lisbon last night at 2015 hours. By the time I’d caught the bus into the Baixa district (Buses 49, 59, or 6)—as advised by Maria, a woman I met on the train from Porto—it was close to 2100 hours. I found a place on Avenida da Liberdade to get online looked for a hostel. There was one close by at 49 Rua do Salitre.

Only I couldn’t find it. It was dark and too late to be fannying about over a place to sleep. Across the square I could see a small hotel, Residencial Alegria, so went to see if they had a room available.

“No, sorry,” the girl said at the reception desk, “we are all full.”

Great.

“Do you know of somewhere close by?” I asked. “Er, no, I don’t think….” she said, “but maybe I can give you address…..”

She took out a piece of paper then paused.

“How many nights?”

“Just one.”

“For you?”

“Just me.”

“We have a room,” she said, “but it’s upstairs on the fourth floor.”

“I’ll take it.” I really didn’t want to look further. “How much?”

“38 with breakfast.”

The room was small and basic and loft-like, with the ceiling all at different angles. It was quirky but adequate and would have to do. They could do with upgrading their bedding and maybe slap a coat of paint on the walls, though. Improving the room’s insulation might be good, too, since I awoke in the middle of the night thinking there were two men in my room. They were next door. Oh, and for God’s sake, please can people lose the thin clingy shower curtains! The spotlessly clean bathroom, with hospital white tiles did help make up for everything else. 

I dumped my bag and left immediately to find a place close by to eat.

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