Winter Train

Excerpts from my journal...

I'm on the way to Sintra! My hand shakes, partly because the trains sways and jolts as trains do, and partly because what I'm doing is kind of illegal, but my nerves become less and less while I write.

Traipsing across districts in Portugal is only allowed for essential purposes, and I'm not exactly sure how I would explain that hiking up a mountain is essential, but... Yeah, let's hope I don't have to. I'm not even sure if the Sintra line is running, or if I have the right ticket to board... I guess I'll see when I disembark off of this Linha Azul!

I'm on the Green Sintra line! The grass is lush and green as we steadily glide through the misty morning. I love winter in Lisbon. It's borderline dull and creepy, yes, but also dreamlike: the deeply-browned branches glittered with bright orange leaves decorate my view of romantic architecture enfolded in the grey blanket of the morning.