Public servant in training; troubleshooter in action and spy in another life. I live ... I ignore warning labels. I revel in the pressure, the adrenaline ... that feeling of being on the edge and the fast pace that characterizes life ... welcome to my world!
The Castelo dos Mouros (Castle of the Moors) is situated on a top hill overlooking the village, it is part of the Cultural Landscape of Sintra, recognized as UNESCO World Heritage Site. Head to the edge of the hill and walk along on the pathway inside the wall for views of the surrounding area and marvel at the construction itself.
Over a thousand years of sun, moon, rain have kissed the rocks, moistened and misted the turrets of The Castle of the Moor. Atop the hill are Vistas. Breathtaking; we are Here, in Sintra, Portugal.
You walk along and feel it; romance from the time when Moorish monarchs summered here (Was it a summer place for Moorish royalty or just a military stronghold?) With the Reconquista the Castle traded Islam for Christian rule. Then there was a period when the Jews of Sintra recited ancient prayers within the space. Another type of worship, all within one Place.
And then, my friend, There came 1755. A great shake in Lisbon which was felt as far as Sintra, a quake of the earth and the old stones trembled. They shook to the very foundation — yet they held. It is a fortress; it is meant to hold. Wonder.
And then there was – Silence. Neglect. Disrepair. The gentle wear the tear of the elements. A champion arrived in 1840. Ferdinand II of Portugal brought the attention and craft to shore up this magnificent carapace. He wrought workmen to shore up, to gather – Oh the dusty bones! And caused a tree, yes a tree, to bloom, in the courtyard to honor the Time, the passing of time, which had seen Kings and conquerors, lovers and warriors, worship and walk in meditative Silence. And us – Illuminated by a modern light and an ancient sun.
Oh what land! Changed hands And hearts, which pounded At the view from the crest — the great heights of the Sintra Mountains. From the pinnacle, you can… See across the way on a day clear, to Mafra, Ericeira and Further out, the sea
Here For us, to be here now. For us to be – Here. Now. In friendship holding our own familial bond as we look upon the twining, snaking walls –this is a monument, a fortress, castle, sanctuary.
We are the ones who walk now upon the paths cleared by helping hands clasped in – Wonder!
Castelo dos Mouros, The Castle of the Moors It is a site for sight into the distance and back into time. Reflecting upon, and honoring, those who brought this Place into being. And we are here and that is part of the story of our hearts and spirits. Souring from the views, from the heights which are not for the faint of heart but were built as Fortress Palace Castle Home Temple Burial Site.
We are here now, walking in this sunshine which paints Us Golden. We are not conquerors we come in Peace. We come in excitement and love and curiosity and gratitude to walk these sinewy paths and to play; to pray that the memory of the extraordinary beauty of The Castle of the Moor in Sintra, Portugal, stay with us – and that we be strong and beautiful and noble. Cared for in the memory of such Beauty
A history That we add to with each step we take upon the path.
In 1147, after the conquest of Lisbon by King Afonso Henriques, the Moorish garrison of the castle surrendered to the Christians without resistance as part of the liberation of Portugal from the Moors.
Walking up to the top of the castle is not for the faint of heart. The steps are very narrow and there’s no handrails.Light as a bird & loving the freedom from up here! It was fun going from one turret to another. If somebody was coming from the opposite direction, one of you will have to flatten yourself against the wall to give way to the other.Its position at the very top of the hill makes it a perfect defensive position. The slope will make life very difficult for any attacker centuries ago.The hills that surround are thick, lush, and green. In the sun or the fog their views are serene.The trail up to the Moorish Castle is part of the same beautiful forest that surrounds the Pena Palace. The air is sweet and cool and a surprising number of species make up the forest. The remains of the castle are scattered along the trail and sort of blend into the landscape.We did a zip line that took an hour the first time we visited the Castle of the Moors. It was fun “zipping” from one platform to another along the forest canopy around 35-40 meters above the ground.
King Afonso thrashed his mom, and then went seeking Moors. And when he came to Sintra town, the signs upon the doors Were in the heathen’s Arab tongue. The King said, “This looks right. “I think I’ve found the perfect place to show some Christian might. “And when I’m done, I swear to God, I’ll plant some piece of holy sod Upon yon hilltop, bleak and dead, Where Mary dropped in once, it’s said.”
It happened as Afonso said; the Arabs lost their pants And all around the city square, the pious people danced. Upon the hill where Mary stopped, a lovely shrine was tossed To thank the Lord and show those heathen rascals who was boss. And from that dedicating prayer, The Monks of St. Jerome were there With no one else for quite a while (It took a while to come in style.)
Ferdinand came into town, and simply loved the place. He took an obscure little shrine and gave it a new face. Damage from the Lisbon Quake was fixed, the shrine expanded Into a getaway from all the stress the crown demanded. A place of charm and beauty rare So fanciful, the fairies there Walk softly as they gaze around At all the wonders they have found.
Today, the people go there still, taking lots of pictures The Palace of the kings restored, with all the trim and fixtures UNESCO said it must be saved, and put it on the list Visitors are all amazed that it could still exist. It’s one of Europe’s brightest lights Come take the tour and see the sights, See the gardens, fern and bower Cool and quiet with scent of flower.
The pink and golden towers are reaching toward the sky, The arches and the balustrades are simply for to die And when you think you’ve reached the end, just take another door You’ll find something else to see, and then there’s something more. The views will take your breath away, The sky grows bigger every day, Some things change, but never fear, This magic place is always here.
Time for lunch. The sun is high and the tables are full With seafaring men who share The spoils of their spell: Dried, stewed bacalhau, And sardines, salted and brined; It is with little wonder How Portugal is Europe’s Pescitarian pride.
Bitter winter hails The coming of cozido: A cacophony con carne, Comprised of chouriço Being cabbage bedmates With pork, beef, and rice, Along with olive oil And just a dash of red wine.
Succulent squid from John Bull pub in Cascais, Portugal
A mother prepares Francesca sandwiches, To the delight of her young son and niece: The cured ham is immaculate! And blends in well with the linguiça and beef, While the bread bookends are slowly soaked By mother’s secret sauce (Which their taste buds seem to sense Is based in tomato, beer, and chicken stock).
Portuguese steak. It is extremely juicy and seasoned to perfection. Cut in a certain way, where you get minimal bone and more meat.
Using broa cornbread, An old man slowly starts to scoop A melted layer of goat cheese Which anoints the crown of his soup: Calo verde, coloured green With potatoes, oil, and collard greens. And while I dine, I indulge in one of this country’s Most beloved exports: I begin to sip a fine young wine— Naturally, a port.
Dow’s Vintage ports – clue was the smell of the cork and sniff of the top of the bottle. The wine, which potentially could age successfully for decades, smelled luscious. This port has layers and complexity.
A quarter to two:
Time to leave soon, And yet there is always room for more. I fill my stomach with Nun’s bellies and angel’s chests, In a land of milk and bacon from heaven. Among these sweets, A common thread of eggs does run, As well as pinches of vanilla And sweet cinnamon.
This sauced steak from Cervejaria Trindade came with rather large bowls of fried potatoes, which I am sure we’re just as pretty low-calorie as the buttery, garlicky, beer soaked sauce we dipped it into, hahaha.
The banquet lasts but three hours, And yet it says so much about this place; If you really want to explore Portugal, Look no further than your plate.
Today was Ciaran’s first day at the Escola de Futebol Benfica Geração’s Summer Camp at the Estadio da Luz in Benfica, Lisbon. Both Bing and I have been pretty excited about this ever since we got here in Lisbon.
Bing and I are huge football fans and kind of blessed that Ciaran has taken to the game as well. Ciaran started playing since he was 5 yrs old, joining clinics while on our first posting in Los Angeles. It wasn’t until our cross-posting to the Embassy in Washington D.C. when Ciaran turned 6 that he got involved more regularly in the game through the Vienna Youth Soccer (VYS) Club in Vienna, Virginia.
By age 8 Ciaran made it to the VYS Travel Team of his age group and began receiving more advanced training. One of his trainers there was Fabian Lewis who is currently playing for Kaya FC in the UFL. In the Philippines, Ciaran played for the varsity football team of La Salle Greenhills.
So we now find ourselves in Lisbon and Benfica FC’s football school beckons. He spends the next 6 weeks at the Escola from Mondays to Fridays, 0900H to 1800H.
As for Bing, he was late for work for the first time since arriving here a month ago as he opted to hang around to try and watch them get started. He didn’t get a chance and had to rush to the office. I was laughing when they kept the parents away from the training ground. You drop off your kid and say goodbye, come back when they are done at 6pm. Bing wasn’t amused when I commented that Benfica FC obviously knew what they were doing by instituting such a policy.
At the end of the day, my little boy is back from the camp. He was tired but was happy and pleased. That’s the most important part of all, that sign of contentment and joy in your child. Of course, every parent expects a lot from their kids, and we do as well for Ciaran. But over and above that, it’s the child’s happiness that counts.
So here we are in Lisbon, another chapter of our lives in the Foreign Service unfolding, with new adventures and discoveries awaiting us. As always, football is always there as it has always been for a major part of our lives wherever we end up. For Ciaran, an opportunity has been laid before him. How far he takes this opportunity and how much of his chances he will take, well, that is up to him now.
Saudade: a Portuguese word. “A pleasure you suffer, an ailment you enjoy.” – Manuel de Melo
Truth be told, Lisbon was never a city I had given any thought. In fact, in 2007 when my mentor/boss asked me to do an ocular inspection of Portugal for the President’s visit and he said “what’s your usual points of interest to recommend,” I could only come up with – Luis Figo, Fatima and Fado. Give me a list of other European cities and there were usually at least four things or more that came to mind.
France: The Louvre, Centre Pompidou, Musee d’Orsay, Bayeux Centre, Zidane, the Eiffel Tower, croissants, cheese and language.
Russia: Lilacs in bloom, Kremlin Palace, Red Square, vodka, communism, Russian roulette, Tolstoy, Chekhov, Gogol, Dostoevsky, KGB, Lubyanka square, tricked USA and stole A and H bomb,
London: Big Ben, London Eye, Tower of London, Buckingham and crappy football. Oh wait, isn’t Prince Harry included in what UK is known for? ♥♥
Venice: Canals, Sestiere, Fenice theatre, Vivaldi, Marco Polo, Grand Caffès in Piazza San Marco, Palazzo Dario, St. Mark’s basilica, gelato, murano.
When I think about it, my inability to come up with something interesting regarding Lisbon is downright odd. For centuries, Portugal was a powerhouse discovering/conquering remote parts of the world from Brazil, Angola, Macau to East Timor (even today, seven of Portugal’s former colonies have Portuguese as their official language), bringing back exotic goods and luxuries that would later become European staples – chocolate and coffee come to mind. I did need to improve my outlook.
Enter the ocular trip – like a quick dip into the sea, the kind of thing that sort of gets you acquainted but really just leaves you wanting more.
Although it’s the capital of Portugal, it only has around half a million inhabitants. This makes it the kind of city that feels like a city, but still small enough to house plenty of animated neighbourhoods that are manageable to explore.
We stayed at the Ritz Four Seasons hotel. From my room I can hear the music from outside and the birds chirping. Lisbon seems like a typical major city, but with all the insanity sucked out of it.
Thank you Ritz for all the lovely pampering.
My first taste of Lisbon made me sigh ‘Ah, the San Francisco of Europe.’ Mountains rise up on both sides of the mouth of the harbor and then there is the bridge. You could become disoriented as you try to remember if you are in Portugal or San Francisco. Actually, this bridge was constructed by the same American company that built the Golden Gate Bridge.
During the entirety of our ocular, we were immersed in spectacular views while visiting possible places of engagement. If the bridge is still not enough in terms of sites that take your breath away, when you see the Christ the Redeemer replica, you will almost feel the very breath of life. This staggering statue of Christ towers into the sky as gratitude for sparing Portugal from the ravages of WW2.
Our last stop before proceeding to Fatima was Tagide restaurant. This establishment boasts one of the most amazing views of the old quarter of the city and the Tagus river. Make sure to ask for a table on the second floor. This will afford you a stunning view of the city. Start your evening with a 20-year-old port wine, and after your meal, try some cake balls with ice cream. Linger over a perfect evening with a cup of exquisite coffee and count your blessings. I’m already counting the days until we return to Portugal for the actual visit. Compliments to Chef Luis Santos and his team.
Whenever I travel, I always make it a point to savor the local cuisine. It’s a pretty good and delicious way of immersing and experiencing the local culture.
Lisbon has an organic feel. It certainly isn’t rural, but it’s one of those amazing places that manages to seamlessly combine nature with urbanity. Maybe it’s the lack of overly tall buildings in the centre of town, or the fact that it has a more Mediterranean climate than other cities, but this is a place where there are trees and foliage everywhere. Restaurants have gardens with trees growing in the middle, and if you leave your window open, you’ll be woken up by chirping birds.
Forget public transportation cards and days inside museums… just for this visit. With only 36 hours before proceeding to Fatima, Lisbon was beckoning me to explore it on foot in my usual 3-inch boots, for as long as my body can put up with it.
We kicked things off as soon as we landed in Fatima with a luncheon meeting followed by the ocular of the usual offices, and at the evening, the hotel’s Fado bar. Living in Greenhills, Los Angeles, and WDC you think you would know what hipsters look like. But then again, the European hipster crowd is a sight to behold.
Twenty-somethings and thirty-somethings scattered all over the small function room. Drinking beer out of bottles and smoking the obligatory cigarette. The combination of Fado music, women in casual but chic outfits were proof that we were in a city that likes to be hip. It was the beginning of the summer season. There was a noticeable buzz in the air.
That’s what I found in Lisbon: a city that feels very much alive and vibrant. A city that despite its old roots is moving. A city that mixes together old and new – classic yet cutting edge at the same time.
We wrapped up the ocular visit with a trip to Fatima– certainly worth another post given its importance.
When it was time to head to the airport there was a quick dash to the clean and efficient metro (coffee at the corner kiosk of course) and soon enough we were on a plane out of Lisbon. That’s how a less than 96 hours trip goes; they offer mere doses of cities that get you immediately planning your next trip back. As we pulled away from the city I couldn’t help but think about how it’s the places that you don’t know anything about that are often the best to discover.
The actual visit of that ocular happened a few weeks later. I made several friends which I’m still in touch with up to now. The closest ones as usual were those I met at the football stadium after watching a live football game.
Our honorary Consul in Lisbon was so gracious to bring me to the town where Luis Figo was born and his house.
Lisbon is a beautiful and cosmopolitan city that implanted the roots of her past into the reconstruction of her future.
Here’s to the beauty of the unknown, and the continuing desire to learn more.
On 25 May 2013, I was back again in Lisbon. This time with my family and not just for a quick one week trip, further discoveries awaits….
I’ve always been very particular of security wherever I go. I’m one of those persons who sit against the wall when eating in a restaurant where I can see everything going on around me. Being the only girl in the family, growing up in a province saturated with NPA and political violence, I was trained to be aware of my surroundings. Then came training at work, and more so now that I have an 11 year old who now goes out and hang out with his friends, watch movie, do laser tag and their meeting place is usually a MALL.
I always believed that malls, hotels, condominiums should and must invest properly for their security. People expect to have the assurance of a decent level of security in these establishments. With the recent incident at Robinson’s Galleria and increasing incidents of crime, it’s really about time that these establishments review their current security set-up. When people go out to the mall, with family or friends, they expect to enjoy and have a good time. Part of that involves feeling secure in the environment. Especially as a mother when my son goes out with his friends, I want to know and feel assured that he is safe.
Photo via cebujournal.com
Of course, security is never foolproof. If someone is really determined, that person can cause problems or endanger people no matter how tight security is in a particular establishment. However, implementation of proper security measures, utilization of properly trained professionals and equipment can help minimize the chances of an incident. We always look to the police to deal with criminality and to ensure public safety. While it is their responsibility, having well trained and competent private security firms will help complement the efforts of the police and enhance the general security environment.
The local security industry is not without professionals who know the business and have the proper background and training to provide security services of a high standard. Perhaps it is time to start placing focus on this aspect of the industry, to start listening to, and provide industry leaders and professionals the opportunity to raise the standards of the private security industry in the country.
(Note: A blast from the past during our diplomatic posting at the Philippine Embassy in Washington DC. I wrote this in 2011)
After three years driving the same roads every week you would know your way around, correct? Well, I don’t.
Like I need any more “idiot me” moments, right? However, in my defence, I’m referring to a particularly nasty piece of road known as Dupont Circle in Washington D.C. Anyone who has ever driven in it would probably understand where my confusion and distress comes from.
The Bermuda Triangle of Roundabouts
Whoever decided that a roundabout with ten—read that, ten!—exits was a good idea should be back in school, relearning how to design roads. There are also two segregated lanes in the roundabout, just in case you decide you don’t feel like getting off the Merry-Go-Round for a while and instead want to kick back, relax, and listen to the music.
If that weren’t confusing or challenging enough already, the centre of the roundabout has a nice little park with trees and a fountain. It is also full of people and has got a number of crosswalks. So while navigating the maze that is Dupont Circle you must be on the lookout for pedestrians as well as your intended exit of that roundabout. I get this sense that in their eyes are looks of mirth, as if they know I’ve travelled this road every week and still have to call my husband for directions because even my GPS is befuddled by Dupont Circle. At least I’m not the only one.
I work at the Philippine Embassy, WDC. As if I’m not already late enough, I have trouble navigating the roads outside the Embassy. There’s this one time I saw Resty, a colleague of mine, and then I realized “Oh, God! This is already near the Ambassador’s residence.” A second and closer look at the surroundings confirmed my belated realization. This was the other side of the diplomatic enclave called Embassy Row. Our Embassy was in the opposite direction across Dupont Circle. I was supposed to exit Dupont Circle towards the South but ended up going North, the merry-go-round from Hell had got me disoriented again. Needless to say, I don’t tell my colleagues about my fights with Dupont Circle. I’d never hear the end of it. The forthcoming jokes would have been relentless.
My husband offers a chuckle every time I call him. Those chuckles were sounding a bit forced after a while, but there’s nothing I can do. When my mechanical GPS fails me I must turn to my human GPS. He’s gotten used to it, and he would say the same thing every time. I think he had the directions written down, a little sticky note in his wallet. He’s used to communicating with people and being patient as he tries to reach a consensus on difficult issues. In this case, garnering his wife safe passage to work.
While I’m driving in circles trying to figure out the right exit again or how to get back to the proper lane within the roundabout, peering at the roads that all look the same with their asphalt and sides of buildings and trees and cars, my fingers hit the speed-dial. My husband had learned to anticipate my calls in that he always picks up on the first ring and automatically asks which building I’m near at to serve as a reference. I describe it and he tells me the next time I pass it to go a certain number of exits in order to get out of the right one. I haven’t the faintest idea how he knows which exit I should be taking by my less-than-impressive building descriptions. I have a hard enough time recognizing the building for my next loop around the Merry-Go-Round.
I don’t know how Washington D.C. locals do it. Dupont Circle isn’t the only roundabout in Washington D.C. It is the worst though. I guess once you’ve conquered the worst of roundabouts the others are like mere pebbles on a pathway.
Soccer is a game that evokes a lot of passion, for its legions of followers (that includes me) it is more than just a game but also a part of culture and to certain degrees, a way of life. There’s nothing like watching a game live where the people are very passionate about the game and their teams. That’s why when I found myself in the following countries – Madrid (3x), Sevilla (2007), Russia (1997), Portugal (2007), Switzerland (2007), Germany (2000), Rome, Singapore (1993), Argentina (1999), Chile (2000, 2004), Mexico (1997, 2002, 2004), World Cup 2002 in Japan, etc. I took the opportunity to squeeze in time for a live soccer match to enjoy high quality soccer and revel in the spectacle and pleasantly intoxicating atmosphere of the stadium. So here’s a modest expression of my feelings about the world’s most beautiful game:
It is not just a game;
It is an expression of life.
It is sweat, pain, struggle, and suffering;
It is grace, unity of effort, creativity, and beauty.
It is triumph and it is defeat.
It is community and family.
It is sadness and it is joy.
It brings out the best, shining and aglow;
It sometimes brings out the worst, violent and cruel.
For all our differences, our varieties, and incompatibilities,
It brings us all together,
One heaving, chanting mass of humanity,
Celebrating life, celebrating artistry in motion,
Celebrating soccer football.
Heart rate data from a male Aston Villa fan during the first and, as a Villa fan, rather torturous, half of the game at Villa Park against Newcastle United in 2008. Study conducted by Social Issues Research Center (SIRC) based in Oxford, UK.Percentage agreement concerning comparison between football and religion. The most religious in this sense are the Portuguese fans, followed by the Belgians and Norwegians. Study Conducted by Social Issues Research Center (SIRC) in Oxford, UK.
Live match at Estadio da Luz, PortugalLive match at Estadio da Luz, Lisboa
A homage on the occasion of World Ocean Day. Millions of years ago life sprang out of the oceans, let us do all that we can to make sure that the oceans continue to live and we along with it. Save Our Seas!
Scuba diving at El Nido Resorts, Palawan during the visit of Filam Hollywood celebrities Lou Diamond Phillips and Tia Carere
A child bobs and weaves in the swell of the powerfully gentle ocean. The spray wets his face and the smell fills his senses. Peace, tranquillity, beauty – this is my favourite memory. Mother Earth’s blue blood wraps her shores in mighty oceans and beautiful seas, Bringing life and sustenance and travel and trade and security and serenity to all who walk her lands. A complex web of life untangles effortlessly in a grand design surpassing any human mind. Ancient pioneers sailed her endless seas to find distant lands, They lived and thrived and learned and developed and respected the genius of her biodiversity. A mutually beneficial symbiosis respected a grand design surpassing any human mind. Then we grew and grew and forgot what we knew and fished and ate and pillaged the oceans which asphyxiate as our devastation began to accelerate and generation by generation we underestimate the slow inexorable truth of how we untangle a grand design surpassing any human mind. Sustainable fishing, educated waste management, respect for her trade routes, cleaning her shores, fighting endless carbon emissions and global warming, respect for the delicate balance of marine life… grand ideas surpassing any human mind? A child bobs and weaves in the swell of the powerfully gentle ocean. The spray wets his face and the smell fills his senses. Peace, tranquillity, beauty – is this is an extinct memory? No! No! No! Run through the streets and shout it from rooftops! For a new generation is born! Mother Earth is forgiving and loving and able to regenerate, She smiles as a new generation spreads the word… A simple word And action And respect And love And a global effort that will breathe new life into our mighty oceans and revive a complex web of life that untangles effortlessly in a grand design surpassing any human mind.
Diplobugs 
