Corinne CrawfordI took the train from Evora to Lagos early in the morning but because of the timing of when it would arrive, I had to wait about an hour until I was able to check into my room at the Airbnb. I was staying at another place where several people rented the individual rooms but shared the common kitchen and outdoor area. This time my room had its own private bathroom right in the room. Again I chose this place based on my three criteria- distance from train/bus station; walkability to the main parts of town; and price. This place was very nice and the location could not have been better. I was super hungry and was a little bummed that I had to wait to check in and dump off my luggage before I could wander about and find some lunch. I slowly started lugging my things in the direction of the place thinking that if I just walked slow enough, I wouldn’t have long to wait and maybe there would be a place to eat near there. About halfway into the walk, I hear some good music coming from a café/restaurant as I passed by on the sidewalk. It also had the words “pray for tacos” on the window so I found where to spend the next 45 minutes. I ordered two tacos and a beer while listening to some James Brown.
I then met the host at the apartment, a chatty guy who then told me that he actually was born in the room I would be staying in. They had recently remodeled the apartment and it was clean and modern. I was also able to immediately use the washer as I did not have very many clean clothes left. I did that right away so that I could have as long as possible to try to line dry everything especially as there was rain in the forecast.
The next day I worked for a bit and noticed that all of my clothes that I had washed the day before were not even close to being dry so I decided I was going to need to go find a laundromat to use a dryer. I found one that was attached to a grocery store so I could kill two birds with one stone and pick up a few items for breakfasts and snacks and such.
After returning back to the apartment with dry clothes and some yogurt and such, I looked up some recommendations for dinner. As I headed out in the evening, it was pretty quiet in the old town but as I got to one of the main squares, I heard what sounded like live music echoing down the street. I followed the sound until I reached another small square where a busker was playing guitar with an amp and doing a great job with some standard American covers of the Eagles, John Denver, etc.
I watched for a bit then continued wandering to a place called PIE Lagos. It was in the main old town area upstairs with a nice rooftop terrace. I ordered one of the specials after a recommendation from the friendly waitress of a pulled pork sandwich. It came with fries and a salad and was delicious but the whole meal probably could have fed 3 people so I took some home. It doesn’t seem like taking leftovers home is super common and sometimes there is even a charge to box something up to go.
I got up the next day and decided to do another one of the Rick Steves City Walks from the Portugal guide book. There weren’t a ton of actual sites but Lagos is one of the many walled cities in the country that have a fully pedestrian old town with cobbled/tiled streets and lots of public squares so it is fun to wander around. Part of the walking tour included one of the churches that is now just a tourist site and an adjacent museum of all kinds of local and curious artifacts. It was not a huge museum and everything was donated and curated by one guy and it only cost 3.50€ to get in. I had to wait until it opened back up at 2:00pm as many places, both private and public spots close from 12:00pm to 2:00pm. The young man at the cash register where I paid my entrance fee was very serious and I had to give him my purse to put in a cupboard behind him and he attached a little tag to my purse and handed me a plastic tag with a number on it. He instructed me where to enter the museum (very clearly visible and obvious from the cash register) and was very specific on what path to follow which included grey plastic lines on the ground and he was very militant when he told me I should follow the lines exactly. OK. As I entered the first room, there was yet another woman checking for a ticket. Keep in mind that the cash register and the entrance to the museum was maybe 20 feet apart and I was one of four people entering at that time. OK. After I got to the very first exhibit following the grey lines, I realized that I left my reading glasses in my purse and if I wanted to read any of the placards, I was going to need them. So I went back to the register where the young man was slowly taking the money from three young guys and taking their backpacks to put in the cupboard. I figured that as long as he was opening the cupboard, he could grab my purse so I could get my glasses so I tried to get his attention as he was handling the backpacks. Well, he did not appreciate this interruption at all and snapped at me that I would have to wait. Keep in mind that I was just up there less than 5 minutes before. After he slowly gave the young guys their tickets and put their backpacks in the cupboard then handed them their tag numbers, he finally looked back to me with a look of “what do you want”, like he had never seen me before. I asked him if I could get my glasses out of my purse and he asked for my tag number. Remember, I was just here and there was only my purse and these boys backpacks in the cupboard. I got my glasses and gave him back my purse and he gave me back my tag. I again had to show my ticket to the woman 20 feet away at the entrance. Ok, these guys are serious about their procedures. She also explained to me to follow the grey lines on the ground.
So I did and as I made my way through the various rooms, another worker was at the threshold between two rooms and he instructed that now, instead of following the grey lines on the floor, I was to step everywhere but the identical black lines on the floor. Ok. I finally ended up in the church part and ended my tour thinking these were the most soft spoken militant museum workers I have ever encountered. I then visited the museum that was housed in the old slave market. Lagos was one of the first and largest ports that brought Africans into Europe for the slave trade. It is a disturbing part of the town’s history and they acknowledge it with respect and education.
The building is the actual original building from the slave trade days. I continued on my tour going out of the old city walls and towards the water and the beach.
I walked along the beach for a while and was charmed by the caves and tunnels and rock formations. After this walk, I went back to the apartment and ate the remainder of the pulled pork sandwich I brought home the other day. The following day was planned for a hike from Lagos to the lighthouse on the end of the point called Ponta da Piedade Lagos.
