Great Beach, Cold Water

I met Margarida at the train station in Lisbon. She is the tallest Portuguese woman I have met, towering over most of the men at about 5’11. We took the train to her stop, then drove in her eco-friendly car to her flat in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere. She lives in an area of new development on the outskirts of greater Lisbon. I requested to stay with Margarida because I was interested in visiting Cascais (pronounced kus-kyshe), a sunny beach town on the Atlantic. After arriving and meeting her wild and talkative cat Simba, we had an interesting homemade dinner of what I will call “tuna cream noodles.” Margarida boiled about a cup of cream in a pan, then dumped in two cans of tuna in olive oil (the canned tuna in Spain and Portugal is very, very good). She stirred it up and poured the thick “sauce” over cooked pasta. Not what I would call authentic Portuguese, but easy, nonetheless.
We took an evening drive through Cascais. It felt nice to ride in a car for the first time in a while, especially with the Spanish disco music on the stereo. The light was gorgeous over the ocean, as we cruised down the road along the beach. The windy, cool evening was the perfect weather for a look at La Boca de Inferno (“Hell’s Mouth”). The large mouth-like opening in the rocks is the legendary location of a female suicide. When I first read about this attraction, those tourist traps along the rural highways through West Virginia came to mind, like The Bottomless Pit (Beware: it swallows men whole!) and The Devil’s Footprint (he was here and he left his mark!). Unlike those American ones, though, this natural formation did not require an admission fee. Like those American ones, the reality did not quite match the hype. Hell’s Mouth is a strong name for some small splashes at the base of a rocky ledge.
We also drove by one of the largest casinos in Europe (who would have thought it was right here in Cascais?) and through the small, very beachy town, giving me a lay of the land for the next day.
The flat is a mere 10 minute walk down a busy street lined with lemon trees from the bus stop. The day after we arrived, I caught the bus to Caracavelos, a very small beach town with a nice market. I spent just enough time to see the tiny mall and even more petit cinema, and buy some fruit before heading to Cascais for the day. I spent the day on the beach, doing beachy things in the beachy town. Actually, I could only manage one full hour on the sand in the morning because the sun felt like it was two inches from my back. I had a chance to wander through the town, the funky, water-themed mall, and the gigantic supermarket. I read, lunched, and napped in the park before Margarida picked me up and we went out to eat. A friend recommended to her a small restaurant actually in the middle of nowhere, which took us about 45 minutes to find. Thankfully we did because the codfish bread pudding we had was weirdly delicious. Plus, I had cake with pumpkin filling and ice cream as an early birthday treat for dessert. I asked for traditional Portuguese and I am so glad I got it.
Fun fact: Portuguese desserts are very sweet due to Moorish influence. The pastries are much sweeter (and more delicious) than in Spain.