There are ceramics everywhere in Lisbon, but many are churned out for the mass market and did not appeal to me. I bought my pottery at a little shop that has been making their own ceramics by hand since the 1700s. (She said smugly.)
Later, Seamus and Brigid and I walked to the Museu Art Antiga. Here is some of what we saw.
I liked this statue, but neglected to write down which saint it is, thinking it would be obvious to me later. Well, it wasn't. Sorry.
A detail from The Temptation of St. Anthony by Hieronymous Bosch c. 1500
More from The Temptation of St. Anthony. This was our favorite painting.
St. Jerome in his study by Albrecht Durer
All I remember about this painting is that it's a portrait of a sculptor.
Detail of a Persian carpet
Our landlady told us about a Tuesday flea market that's sort of a local secret. It closed at 6:00pm. At 5:00-ish, I glanced at my map and predicted that it would be a fifteen minute walk to the market. Forty-five minutes later, we arrived, somewhat fretful, at the market, which was just shutting down. Many of the tents were packed up already. What we did see was piles of random junk--old cell phones, CDs--the sort of trash you wouldn't bother to garbage pick if it was out at the curb for free. It reminded me of the Porta Portese market in Rome, which the guidebooks say is the ultimate flea market experience, and which turned out to be miles of tables on which were dumped made-in-China tee shirts and other items too downmarket for a bargain bin at Wal-mart. Then there was the forty-five minute walk home. The experience wasn't entirely a waste, as spotted the domed edifice that popped up in most views of the east side of Lisbon, but that I'd never been able to locate. It's a church--I believe construction began in the 1700s, but the dome was not complete until the 1960s, so it has become a symbol of projects that take way too long to complete. We didn't get any closer, because it was getting dark and we were tired.
For our last night, we went to our favorite restaurant--the one with the amazing tapas. Mine was the lone vote for the other tapas place with the waiter who looks like Gael Garcia Bernal, but I was overruled.
Speaking of restaurants, we saw the word "farta" associated with a few restaurants in the area, which made us giggle. In Portuguese, it means abundance.
We have come to the end of the Lisbon tales. With Ian and Brigid so grown up, this may be the last trip we'll ever take as a family, although all the kids have asked if we can go to California and see the giant redwoods, and I'm tempted to try to bring that off some day.