The path to the top is rarely straight. Creating something special, putting it on a hill all bright and bold and ridiculous, and then climbing, really climbing, to find it...well for that - the journey is the reward. The beauty is in the struggle. The way up, the long breaths, having imagination guide expectation towards the truth, calibrating, re-calibrating, earning it.
Here at the top, just outside of Lisbon is Sintra Castle, we climbed to get there.
Sometimes it starts with a sign and an arrow, unknown to the reader the meaning
A hill to climb, but first lets find food
We saw a man cooking ribs by the road on a grill, here is his dining room
Tender delicious Portuguese ribs
Port Sausage hit the spot and got us ready for the journey
Up passed the city
Passed improbable garages and bright building we climbed
It got greener and greener as we walked up steep cobbled streets. We hoped it was the right way. Sometimes it just feels right. Sometimes you just know.
Summer homes for Lisbon's old wealthy
Getting older and mysterious
Quiet up here
Nature takes back a side yard
A welcoming front door and magical courtyard carved into a hillside
An inquisitive gatekeeper, but this was not our gate
It smelled delightful, but the path seemed more and more unprobable - could this even be the right way?
A strange door in a rock leading, somewhere
And we climbed above it all, still not knowing
We passed a noble castle
But not the right one
Warmer, the cobbled roads returned
We passed many doors that begged to be opened
But we were on a mission to find the colorful castle
We found it
One of the stranger castles