Walking to the cento historico part of Lisbon today, Stefan announces he can count in Portuguese: onze, douze, thirteen-say, fourteen-say, fifteen-say…I think after Russian we all have this bizarre sense of being able to speak the language. If scuzi, isn't polite enough, how about, pardon? Limondada? Rosa? Grande? Beeg? Okay!
After touring like rock stars yesterday and going no where but the hotel bar and falling in love with boots at the mall, today we ventured to the old part of a very old town.
We saw a glove store that's been around a couple hundred years.
(That's Stefan wanting desperately to not go in.)
Then we went to a candle store that's been around since 1789.
Stefan says Lisbon reminds him of Portland + Budapest, I say add in a little San Francisco:
twenty-something years of "what have you been up to?" 
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