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Writer's pictureLisa Tisdale

I Had a Meltdown in Castelo Branco

The heat of August finally pushed me over the edge


After living in Lisbon, I am spending the next year in different towns in Portugal. I want to get to know this country and its people better. I am eager to see what the next chapter of my life here might look like…and where it will happen.


 Screenshot of the temperature forecast showing 105 degree fahrenheit heat
Hellscape in Castello Branco (screenshot by author)

After all my exploits on tiny mountain roads, all I could focus on as I arrived in the center of Castelo Branco was parking the car. Things went off the rails shortly after.


I Forgot Why I Came to Castelo Branco

Given all the stress of the past few days and the fact I'd booked this I part of the trip almost a year ago, I could not recall why I was there. I did recall that I chose it as a good base for exploring the area, but what I was supposed to see eluded me..


After parking the car on the street and making sure I did not leave anything in the direct sunlight where it might be incinerated in the 105 degree fahrenheit heat, I headed to confirm the air conditioning in my apartment worked well. After punching in the key code that was texted to me, I opened the door to a cool room, and promptly warmed it up by having a toddler-like meltdown.


The "apartment" I'd seen in the pictures when I booked this spot for a week, was spacious with a desk in a separate work area, perfect for the mobile worker. While I was prepared for a studio apartment, the room I was standing in was at best, a hotel room. I was not sure I'd need to put my feet on the floor to move from the bed to the desk which on the bright side would be my shortest work commute ever.


 View from a table on the sidewalk with a blue-checkered tablecloth and glass of red wine
Wine With a Street View (photo by author)


I Had a Bit of a Meltdown, Followed by Dinner

Perhaps due to a combination of the nuclear heat and the frayed nerves, I morphed into a three-year old version of myself as I texted the lady who had sent me the room access code. I angrily typed, “I am here for a week! Is this really the best you can do?” Almost immediately, she responded that while she could not move me now, she would have a new place for me tomorrow.


"Well that is more like it!", I thought at the moment. Later, I would feel the shame I should have for not speaking with a touch more respect to this woman who was probably making a crap wage to kindly put up with my cranky arse.


After unpacking enough to get me through to my apartment change tomorrow, I headed out into the cooling temperatures of the early evening in search of dinner. I walked to a place nearby that I read was popular with the locals. Apparently this is not hype as the restaurant was already fully booked for dinner. However, most of the tables were still empty and a kind waitress gave me a table on the sidewalk and in return I promised I would eat and not linger long.


There is a Time Limit for Waiting on a Date

As I enjoyed sliced steak with mustard sauce and sauteed veggies that were both hitting the spot, I watched a pretty, young girl wait by the entrance for someone, somewhat patiently, somewhat impatiently. As she cycled through various stages of pissed-offness, I considered explaining to her that if she was waiting for a date, it was long past time to either head out or just sit and order dinner, depending on her mood.


As I pondered whether or not to insert my opinion into her life, I recalled a similar situation when I was back in NYC. A date left me at a restaurant table while he went outside to take an “urgent” call. When he returned, I asked him how the call went as I finished my wine while the waiter cleared my dinner plate.


Paved over square with restaurants all in the same sized buildings
Mini-Storage Square in Castello Branco (photo by author)

First Impressions of Castelo Branco

Fulfilling my promise to my kind waitress, I finished dinner and moved to a table outside a wine bar for a bit of people watching. As I enjoyed my after-dinner wine, I tried to discern the vibe of the town. At first glance, there seemed nothing remarkable about it. The main square was a sea of asphalt lined on one side with restaurants and bars in buildings of the same size and height. It looked like a re-purposed mini-storage facility.  


As I considered my first impressions of Castelo Branco, I could not say I was excited about the upcoming week I was to spend there, sweltering in the summer heat. Maybe Castelo Branco had more secrets and was playing coy with me. 


I knew it had secrets. Every town does. I just had to have patience and keep exploring with an open mind and I was sure to uncover them.

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