Sintra, Portugal
As charming as Lisbon is, like most large cities it has its fair share of danger. I had the unfortunate luck to stumble across a this violent struggle in the middle of a town square. With no regards to my own safety, I managed to film some of the altercation, which apparently got physical after a heated debate between the two men over which one of them was going to lose their virginity first. Sadly, as in most disputes involving sword play in today's world, there are no winners, only losers.
After seeing such gratuitous violence in the street which other passers by didn't even seem to notice, I decided that it was time to move on from Lisbon to a simpler town in the north, Sintra. So, off to the train station I went. I got to the station a little early, so I decided to run along the side of departing trains professing my love to anyone that was paying attention. It was a great way to pass the time, burn calories and meet Portuguese security guards who apparently have no sense of humor.
Portuguese law dictates that all towns have a castle looming above them. This is Sintra's. Pretty impressive.
Like many other towns in Europe that were designed for people the size of hobbits, Sintra has narrow streets, forcing local soccer moms to stuff their two kids into compact vehicles rather than the SUVs that are so popular in suburban America.
There are a few different fountains like this scattered around town. The water that comes out is from mountain springs and townsfolk can be seen filling water jugs during the day. After dark, townsfolk can also be seen urinating in the same fountains, so I am not sure how tasty it really is.
Sintra is located in the mountains along Portugal's left coast. Even in the middle of February, it was green, lush and flowery. The entire town smelled like shampoo, reminding me of the showers of my youth before my struggle with male pattern baldness started.
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