A wandering Veronica has finally arrived to Lisbon.
From the Azorean green in Terceira to the colourful streets of the Portuguese capital.
Among cars, tourists, and pasteis de nata.
Leggi in italiano: Una Veronica Vagante – LISBONA, seconda tappa
Once again I stepped on a plane without having a ticket and without knowing what my next stop will be. But this time I have no fear. No anxiety – maybe just of just going too far across my limits.
A couple of days ago, a friend of mine advised me to take a break from everything, and to think just about me and to write down how I felt.
But I didn’t want to, I felt dumb.
I felt dumb writing how I felt.
How could this make sense?
And the moment I really took an emotional break, I realized.
The transition from the quiet, the silence, and the tranquillity of the Banana Eco Camp to a big city, together with the hectic rhythm of the hostel had an impact on me, without me being aware of it.
However, being in a big city has its advantages, too.
I can walk and reach a supermarket without walking for kms.
I can talk to anyone in English knowing that they will understand me.
And I can go out, have long, long walks, and make new friends.
But, Veronica Vagante, what have you seen so far?
Some of you already know this – this is not my first time in Lisbon, and when I came here two years ago, my sister and I had a real touristic marathon.
Thus this time I am still a tourist, but I’m skipping most of the main touristic spots.
This means endless walks up and down the streets and the staircases of the city,
looking for the hidden miradouros, the most typical spots,
and to leave the visits to museums and other places for the free days.
A sort of hunt more or less fun that somehow fits in with the hostel shifts and the chance to share part of the experience with other people.
This second stop of the trip without stops is sharing.
In the last post I was telling about how that was fundamental at the camp, and I must admit that here the concept of sharing has a similar meaning, but the way I feel about it is somehow different.
While back in the Azores I communicated with all of the guests, here I end up having contact with less people but for a longer time.
The last weekend there was right here in hostel a reunion of former volunteers, and they felt like they were a family. Their Portuguese but international family.
Here at the hostel the rhythm is super quick – the deal is to work for 20 hours per week helping with breakfast, bed-making, picking up guests from one hostel to the other one for the daily tours, support at the bar or for the dinner, with at least two days off per week. And in exchange you get accommodation, breakfast and free laundry (plus some discounted dinner or leftovers that you manage to get – super blink ).
But the most wonderful thing are the stories.
The stories of the people who are here, and of how with some of them there is a sort of special connection, that willingness to listen to what they have lived.
There are people who are like that and that’s all. There’s people you would ask a lot of questions to and whatever answer would just make you more and more curious.
See you there!