J.K. Rowling, the author of the infamous Harry Potter book series and movies, once taught English in Porto and frequented the Livrario Lello, a bookstore in the town that goes back to the 1800s. She loved this bookstore so much that it’s been said it is one of her inspirations for Harry Potter. And you can certainly see the influences, from the stained glass ceiling above, the circular staircase that is in the center of the bookshop, to the old and classic facade. Once Harry Potter took off, the bookstore could not handle all of the tourists that came to visit, so it started to charge a small fee for entrance that visitors could use towards any book purchase. In a day and age when more and more bookstores are going out of business, this actually is a really good business model. People will come for the Harry Potter inspiration, and while they’re at it, why not buy a book and use the credit they paid to get in towards it?

It’s amazing that they were able to preserve the original look and feel of the bookstore so well, and continue to do refurbishments to keep the look the same. It’s one of the most unique and beautiful bookstores I’ve ever been in.

Our Thanksgiving meal in Porto last night was reserved months in advance. We had so many beautiful meals in Spain, Portugal’s neighbor, that I figured that Portugal would also have a number of fine-dining interpretations of Portuguese cuisine that would be interesting to try. One of the spots that was highly recommended and has a Michelin star is Pedro Lemos. It opened in 2009 by a chef of the same name, and this restaurant is a modern interpretation of the local Portuguese cuisine with some international twists. It’s located in Foz, which is a historic and very residential neighborhood in Porto.

All the dishes we were served in our multi course tasting menu were delicious, creative, tinged with Asian influences, and beautifully plated on colorful and ornate pieces of local pottery (of course, since we are in Portugal, all the ceramics are going to be stunners and custom crafted). We were even served a bottle of local wine that is two years older than me for a price that was so low that it would be unheard of back home. But one of the most interesting things of the night to me, other than the food itself, was listening to the dishes described to us in English with Portuguese accents, and noticing how certain things were said.

We’re really lucky that we learned English as a first (well for me, semi-first since I learned English and Toisan at the same time) language. There are so many nuances in this language that are hard to understand, from variations on pronunciations on certain sounds and letters to even sentence structure, that make very little sense when you speak another language first. When I studied French, I really struggled to understand when to use an article before a word or not (do you say “people” or “the people”?). There was a rule, but there were five million exceptions that “you just need to know and remember,” as my French teacher said. When you say “of the world,” do you say “du monde (which is “de” and “le” combined, or “of the”), or “de monde” (“of world)? It’s not consistent, and what is correct in this example varies depending on the exact use case. When I started to formally learn Chinese in college, I realized that the sentence structure is so simple, especially since there are no tenses in Chinese. But that makes it even harder to get English as a second language as a native Chinese speaker. For example, in Chinese, if you want to say “I like to eat Chinese food” in Chinese, it would be (in pinyin): “Wo xihuan chi zhongguo cai” (literally: “I like eat China food”). So when I learned this, I realized, ah, that’s why sometimes people who are speaking English as second language after Chinese forget to use articles in speech (“to”) or they say the country name instead of the adjective (“China” versus “Chinese”).

When the server was done describing each dish to us, she’d always end it by saying, “Enjoy it.” In the U.S. or any English-speaking country, you would know you’d never hear this. In fact, this short sentence is a quick giveaway that even without her accent that she speaks English as a second language. Instead, with a native English speaker, you’d hear the person say, “Enjoy.” But, when learning from a romance language, you rarely say a verb as a standalone and that’s it; you say the verb then the object, which is why our server said “enjoy it” rather than “enjoy.”

This reminds me to be more empathetic to people who are learning English as a second language, and of course, to remind myself that my own second language capabilities are so little in a country like Portugal, where it’s common for people to know two to three languages fluently.

After the last bits of gallivanting around Lisbon, we boarded a train that was Porto bound. In just a couple hours, we’d be in the city famous for port wines, or, really, old rich white men’s after-hour drinks.

While getting situated into our seats, I noticed a number of Americans on the train with us. One group was three generations of a family: a husband and wife, likely just a little older than us, with their five-month old son, their 5-year-old daughter, and the husband’s parents. We made some small talk; I found out that the husband and wife lived in D.C., while his parents lived in upstate New York. They loved to travel and didn’t want to stop when they had kids, so they’d bring their kids with extra gear with them to every place they wanted to go to. “It’s just a little extra to pack — that’s all!” the husband said to me, smiling, while holding his young infant son. He’d also sold his parents on the value of traveling during Thanksgiving given that many Americans get both Thanksgiving day and the day after off, so they’ve been using this time to explore internationally. And his parents seemed fully bought in. “In so many places, it’s low season, so it’s not only less crowded, but it’s cheaper!” the husband’s mom said to me. “I don’t know why we never thought of this before! But now we’ll be doing this more often.”

I did notice a lot more American tourists in Lisbon with us. While I’m all for the less common American route of traveling during Thanksgiving, I do not necessarily want to hear American accents and English while I am traveling abroad much. But I do commend them for taking the road less traveled and traveling, especially during a period when most Americans would never even think to do it.

Our exploration of Lisbon continued, and even more so of the divinities that make up Portuguese cuisine. While we treated ourselves to delicious local seafood on Monday, today, we tried the famous Portuguese egg tarts from Pasteis de Belem, famed for using the ancient recipe once used by nuns at the Jeronimos Monastery, Portuguese piri piri spicy chicken, Mozambican cuisine (given Portugal’s proximity to Africa, many Africans and thus their different countries’ cuisines are represented here widely), and Portuguese wine and cheese. Chris declared the pastel de nata (egg tart) from Pasteis de Belem the best egg tart he’d ever eaten. He rarely gets that visibly excited about anything, but after waiting in a short line (he absolutely hates waiting for anything), he purchased four egg tarts and said to me, “Okay, we’re getting four and then we’re leaving.” But I insisted we eat them there and take pictures. After taking his first bite, he exclaimed, “Holy crap. That’s the best egg tart I’ve ever eaten in my life,” then immediately and without hesitation made a beeline back to the counter to buy four more.

Chris grew up eating Nando’s piri piri chicken, so he was especially interested to try the famed Portuguese chicken while in Portugal. I’d enjoyed it with him a couple times during visits to Australia, and while I always thought it was tasty, nothing could have compared to the piri piri chicken we had today at a tiny hole-in-the-wall during lunchtime. We were served a little chicken (you know, the way they were before Americans decided to fatten them up and make them double the size of what they should naturally be), less than 1 kilo in weight, that was spatchcocked, marinated, and roasted over coals and a vibrant fire, constantly basted with additional piri piri marinade (the piri piri pepper originates in Southeast Africa, but was spread by the Portuguese to India). And finally, once the little bird is done roasting over high flames, the cook gives it one last brush with the piri piri oil glaze, chops it up ,and serves it to us on a long platter.

The smell was making me salivate as we waited for it. And when it arrived at the table, there was no mistaking it; it actually smelled and tasted somewhat like the Sichuanese (hua jiao) peppercorn chili oil I’ve been so used to having, just mixed with lots of herbs, spices, and the delicious smell of coal. The roasted coal flavor was evident, and the meat was moist throughout. This was probably one of the absolute best roast chickens I’d ever had in my life. In my humble opinion, this made Nando’s seem plain. The kicker really was the piri piri oil they brushed on at the end, which gave the chicken a slightly numbing and floral flavor. I was so sad when we were at our last bites. I kept licking my fingers and trying to mop up the remaining chili oil at the bottom of the plate with my last tiny bites.

The other delicious and surprising thing we ate today was at a random wine bar that we tucked into when the on-and-off rain came on again. It was a quaint little bar with no more than four or five small tables, a short menu of nibbles and local wines, and one server working there. We enjoyed two glasses each of local wine, ridiculously cheap for the quality and complexities, and since we were getting a little hungry but not too much from having two mini lunches earlier, we decided to eat a bit lighter and ordered a cheese plate, only 12 euros, which included five different local cheese, some mini toasts, and a little cup of house-made pumpkin jam.

I could honestly say that this cheese plate we ordered was one of my absolute favorite cheese plates I’ve ever had. I’ve always loved cheese, though I don’t really eat much of it, but this cheese plate really was the best and most interesting one I’ve ever had (and such a deal). Before we arrived in Portugal, I did a lot of research on the local food, and overall from food lovers who have visited Portugal, it’s pretty much agreed upon that Portugal is completely underrated for 1) wine, 2), olive oil, 3) bread, and 4) cheese. The cheeses of this multicultural and diverse country should be more known and celebrated, but I suppose they are like the Swiss with their delicious wines; they’d rather enjoy it and keep it to themselves rather than export it to other countries to make more money off of them; it’s a very anti-capitalist attitude, isn’t it? We enjoyed amarelo da Beira Baixa, a herby goat-and-sheep milk mix cheese, a cow’s milk cheese, two firmer sheep’s milk cheeses, and a softer goat milk’s cheese. They all went so well with the pumpkin jam, which I wanted to bottle and bring home with me. They were all a mix of grassy, vegetal, creamy, tangy, complex, and sweet. I looked back at pictures of the cheese plate when we returned to the hotel, and none of the pictures could do the cheese justice. they just look like cheese on a wooden board, but these cheese were truly spectacular.

It’s okay that we can’t get these cheeses as easily back home. I guess it’s one of those bittersweet things about travel; sometimes, it’s probably just better to enjoy the local foods and drinks in that area rather than trying to bottle and bring it back home. It makes it more special that way, and we’re then more grateful for the fact that we can be so lucky to travel to these lush regions with their incredible food.

Like many children probably did and still do, I used to tell my parents that I wanted to live  in Disneyland. Known as the “happiest place on earth,” with castles, oversized teacups, and song, Disneyland is the epitome of every child’s dreamworld.

I still love Disneyland and Disney, despite their artificial, commercialized creations of happiness and gender role implications, and the false idea that once you get married, it truly is happily ever after and smooth sailing from there on out. But what is actually even more exciting to me than Disneyland is the romance and enchantment that exists in real life, both in nature and what has been man made in history. Sintra, Portugal, is like the multicultural European Disneyland for adults, full of picturesque terrain, majestic mountains, and a large concentration of historical castles, palaces, and estates that have given the town its UNESCO World Heritage status.

We took a day trip to Sintra today, exploring the town, visiting three major sites: Quinta da Regaleira, the Palacio da Pena (Pena Palace), and the Castelo dos Mouros (Castle of the Moors). Quinta da Regaleira was an estate built in the 1800s and passed on from one wealthy family to another, but what makes it quirky is not its romantic palace and chapel, but instead its lush park filled with lakes, grottoes, wells, and fountains. The wells, called the Initiation Wells, are the strangest feature about it that seem like they came straight out of a fairy tale. It was known that these wells were never truly used as water sources, but instead as underground towers that were used for ceremonial purposes, including Tarot initiation rites. The windy and dark tunnels on the property connected the wells, in addition to other caves and grotto areas. Pena Palace, built in the mid-1800s, was one of the most eclectic and interesting castles I’d ever visited due to its unique mix of architectural styles, combining Neo-Gothic, Neo-Manueline, Neo-Islamic, and Neo-Renaissance. As soon as we got closer as we climbed the steep hills of the Sintra Mountains to get to the palace, I noticed many elements of the arches and the detailing of the designs that resembled Persian-Mughal architecture that we saw in Agra and Jaipur, India, during our summer trip. There was much in common with the detailing here, which I wasn’t expecting at all, but was a really pleasant surprise. It made the Pena Palace even more exciting in taking in all the different towers, arches, tiles, and pillars. It was like an intersection of culture being represented in the form of a palace.

One of the things that traveling has made me more aware of and want to learn more about is all the history I missed while I was in school. History was never that fun of a topic to me, but that’s partly because it was never connected to real life… or at least, that’s how I perceived it. There was no connection to real people or places for me. But it’s different when you’re learning history as you are traveling to different places. You’re taking these sights and sounds in and learning more about it by reading about how these places came to be. And that’s always going to fascinating if you really care about what is in front of your eyes. Sintra really is the fairy tale city that I never knew existed. It’s like Disneyland in real life, and not an amusement park.

We arrived in Lisbon just after midday today after a connecting flight from Madrid, and the weather was surprisingly holding up despite weather report threats of rain. Based on just a day here, it’s a lot like what I expected: hilly, colorful, lots of random street art, endless beautiful printed and painted tiles on buildings, both commercial and residential, and thankfully nowhere as crowded as crazy tourist magnet cities like Paris, London, and Venice. On certain streets, it just felt like it was us and a bunch of locals, leisurely strolling to get from point A to point B. Some hills were so steep that they required steps; it was like an older, more colorful and historic version of San Francisco.

The coffee and baked goods are as rich and delicious as I was expecting; the coffee was beautifully roasted, strong, and cheap at just 1.10 euros. The pastry we shared, a pao de deus, was thick crumbed, dense, moist, and topped with a large amount of sweetened and buttered coconut. We later had dinner at a restaurant that was recommended by a YouTube food traveler we follow and watch avidly named Mark Wiens, and we enjoyed their oysters, crab soup, sea bream fish, and octopus. Everything was so fresh and tasty; the octopus was Chris’s favorite octopus dish he’d ever had – thinly sliced, grilled, tender, and flavorful, not even a hint of rubbery texture. The fish was extremely moist and so good with the Portuguese olive oil it was served with.

I read a lot of different reviews for restaurants across cities we’d be visiting in Portugal, and it is always such a turn off whenever a review starts with a massive bias or outright disgust for some country’s food. One person who reviewed this restaurant started his review with, “Not a fan of Portuguese food and wouldn’t recommend it to anyone, but this place was an exception!” So what, are we supposed to respect this place even more now and want to try it because you are so bigoted that you would X out every single one of the dishes in this entire country of 10 million people? I just don’t get how people want to seem like they are cultured or well-traveled when they make such ignorant and stupid comments like this.

We arrived at JFK airport a bit early today to avoid potentially hectic Sunday afternoon traffic, and while Chris sat there enjoying his glass of French Bordeaux, I sat with my earbuds and listened to YouTube videos on my computer re-introducing myself to Portuguese. I actually learned a decent amount of Portuguese about four years ago when preparing for our Brazil trip. I even practiced my accent to get it more accurate. I had read that in many parts of Brazil, even in major cities like Rio, there were many areas where English wasn’t known very well, so it would help to at least know some basic Portuguese phrases. Remembering how fun it was, I sat and tried to re-learn some basic phrases today. Once you don’t use a language, you really end up forgetting it.

Voce fala ingles? (do you speak English?)

Ate mais! (See you later)

Muito obrigado! (Thank you very much – to a man)

But what I’ve read about Portugal, though, is that English is far more widespread, especially in major cities like Lisbon, the capital, and Porto. So while it would be polite to learn some basic phrases, it wasn’t as needed as in Brazil. Suddenly, the desire to practice started to die, and I just wanted to relax and think about all the delicious bread, cheese, and wine I’d soon be having in a country that is oftentimes seen as Spain’s less popular and more understated cousin, but probably is the sexier and more alluring of the two.

I legitimately slept 11 hours straight. Now, we know for sure my entire mind and body were exhausted, mentally and physically.

Then, I took a nap on the couch after eating breakfast. Still exhausted.

Chris is accusing me of having my favorite activity be sleep now. That is not always 100 percent correct, but for this weekend, it certainly is, though I am planning on fulfilling what feels like my “cooking debt” tomorrow by preparing fish curry and dal. Eating in Vegas was anything but healthful.

Flying during the day going west to east in the U.S. always feels like the biggest waste of time. You spend somewhere between four to five hours in the air, and then when you land, not only were you nowhere as productive as you would have been if you were on the ground, but you’ve also just lost three hours of time due to the time difference. That’s why ages ago, when I was more nimble (at least, physically seeming), I used to take red-eye flights cross country all the time because it seemingly “saved” time, or I would take flights later in the day when I didn’t need to be as productive with work (or simply chose not to be).

Today, the flight from Vegas back to JFK was only about four hours, yet I was so exhausted I slept about half that time, with the other half reserved for eating breakfast and catching up on a few work emails. I guess it just goes to show that staying out late for consecutive nights is really not something I can sustain for more than two days. Even that was trying on me. I anticipate much sleep debt being fulfilled this weekend.