We left the Douro Valley at 11 after a leisurely breakfast and drove a little over three hours to Sintra.
We checked into Valverde Palácio de Seteais, dropped our bags, got some restaurant recommendations and walked into town.
We wandered for a while before stopping for dinner. I had pork loin with Madeira wine sauce. Shirley had beef fillets with port wine sauce. We shared a bottle of local wine.
Both meals were great.
Portugal was becoming remarkably easy to enjoy.
Sintra and Cascais
The next morning we met our guide, Helena, and driver, Miguel, for a full day exploring Sintra and the surrounding area.
After touring Sintra, we drove toward the coast and Cascais.
Cascais was busy with tourists—not quite Laguna Beach in summer, but busy. We visited the beaches, harbor and tourist areas.
There were plenty of restaurants and hotels, and despite the crowds, I could imagine returning and staying for a few weeks.
Lunch helped.
We ate at Maré, overlooking the beach.
Shirley had the catch of the day—turbot with a light garlic and oil preparation, accompanied by salad and green beans. She had a glass of the restaurant's own white wine.
I had prawns with coriander rice.
The restaurant had a Michelin star.
Shirley's review was considerably less formal:
"Some good shit."
Learning to Eat Later
We talked with Helena about Portuguese meal times.
Breakfast is often light. Lunch is the main meal. Dinner tends to be lighter and considerably later than we're accustomed to—often after 8:00 p.m., particularly during the long summer days.
That schedule was proving difficult for me.
At almost 9:00 that evening, the sun still hadn't set.
I could understand why nobody was in a hurry to go inside.
I just wasn't sure my internal clock was ever going to understand it.
Cabo da Roca
That day we also visited Cabo da Roca, the westernmost point of continental Europe.
Standing there made me wonder about something surprisingly basic:
What exactly is a cape?
I'd recently stood near the Cape of Good Hope in South Africa.
Now we were at Cabo da Roca in Portugal.
The question led to a conversation and eventually to an essay about rounding a cape—leaving familiar waters behind and continuing into something new.
At the time, though, Cabo da Roca was simply another beautiful place we'd reached while traveling along the Portuguese coast.
The meaning came later.
A Random Sunday
Sunday may have been the day that best captured Sintra.
We woke around 7 and lingered in the room over espresso.
We didn't go down to breakfast until 10.
Around 11, we finally headed out.
We visited Palácio e Parque Biester, spending a couple of hours walking through the house and grounds.
Then we went to Quinta da Regaleira, where we wandered through the palace and gardens and saw the Initiation Well.
We stopped at the café for a late snack. Shirley had beef bourguignon and white wine. I had a turkey and blue cheese sandwich with red wine.
Then we headed back because there was a ballet at our hotel at 6:00.
Nothing about the day had felt rushed.
Espresso in the room.
Breakfast at 10.
A palace.
A garden.
Lunch with wine.
A ballet.
I wrote:
"Amazing day for a random Sunday."
Shirley said it was a great day.
Then I wrote something that captured what was beginning to sink in:
"Every day has been a great day. Good thing as this is our life for the time being."
What We'll Remember
We'll remember walking into Sintra from the hotel on our first evening and finding somewhere for dinner.
We'll remember Helena and Miguel showing us Sintra and the coast.
We'll remember Cascais and thinking that we could easily return for a longer stay.
We'll remember lunch at Maré—the turbot, prawns, wine, and Shirley's concise restaurant review.
We'll remember trying to adjust to Portuguese meal times while the sun was still shining at 9:00 at night.
We'll remember Cabo da Roca and the question it unexpectedly raised about capes.
We'll remember the gardens and architecture of Sintra.
We'll remember the Initiation Well at Quinta da Regaleira.
We'll remember espresso in the room and not getting to breakfast until 10.
And we'll remember a completely ordinary Sunday that somehow included palaces, gardens, wine and a ballet.
An amazing day for a random Sunday.
Would We Return?
Yes.
Sintra itself was beautiful, although it was also a place with plenty to see and do rather than somewhere we immediately imagined establishing a daily life.
Cascais was different.
Despite the summer crowds, it felt like somewhere we could stay for a few weeks—walk to restaurants, spend time near the ocean, explore the surrounding coast and settle into more of a rhythm.
And increasingly, that was the question we were asking.
Not simply:
Did we enjoy visiting?
But:
Would we like to live here for a while?
On July 20, after another leisurely morning, we met our driver at 11 and headed south toward Melides.
Along the way, he pointed out towns and places worth returning to—Setúbal, Arrábida, Palmela and others.
Portugal was beginning to feel less like a country we were working our way through and more like somewhere we were already thinking about coming back to explore differently.