You have ascended almost to the top of one of the world's tallest skyscrapers, and what's this you've discovered—an astral capsule? Or maybe an adrenaline-fueled reality show is being staged up here and the task is to replace a jumbo industrial lightbulb? (Be careful, it might be your turn next to inch out on the ledge and lay hands on that glowing glass.) Either way, your best bet is to perform a one-eighty and hightail it back into one of the pressure-controlled elevators that rocket up and down at forty miles per hour.
Your descent will allow just enough time to master some fast facts about this edifice. With eight tiers culminating in a spire that's made to resemble a grass known for its great tensile strength, it has an elegant design which reflects the local aesthetic. It's sunk one hundred feet into the bedrock and is equipped with a 1.6 million–pound pendulum that dampens the impact of gale-force winds (you can watch the steel orb in action while you dine in the eighty-sixth-floor restaurant).
You are at the northern tip of an island-nation whose people an eighteenth-century British sea captain described as "purely Pagan. They all worship the Sun and Moon, and the Stars their Children. Some worship the first living Thing they see in the Morning, except a Lizard." He was referring to the original inhabitants, most of whose descendants now live in the mountains (recent DNA analysis suggests that they are the progenitors of seafarers who spread out over the vast ocean surrounding you). If you came of age half a century ago, you heard your sixth-grade teacher refer to the country by its Portuguese name. While the Lisboans never stayed long (nor did the Dutch, who passed through as well), people from the nearby mainland settled here in droves.
If this tower leaves you with a real fondness for heights, you might want to hike in a gem of a mountain range. You have arrived during the mildest season, perfect timing for trekking from the subtropical to the alpine zones of the main thirteen-thousand-foot peak. Back in the capital, stop by the national art museum to see treasures plucked from the west. A museum in another town is devoted to an anorexic plastic doll (perhaps the one you used to play with was molded in the factory here).
Today, the country is done making mere trinkets and recently hosted techies at an online group's annual meeting (it was wicked, no doubt). Maybe they can tell you what you need to know about this building.
Where are you, anyhow?
http://www.concierge.com/cntraveler/whereareyou/october2007
