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| Skirt by Lufthansa |
While I had an amazing journey (and look forward to my next!) I got rather lonely at times, and missed everyone I left behind. I was so happy to see Kate at the airport to welcome her monkey home. <3
Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Home Without Pants But With Love
About a week before heading home, the zipper on my only pair of pants broke. This wasn't such a tragedy because it was generally warm enough for shorts, and I had several pairs of these surviving. However, a problem loomed on the horizon: what to do when I landed in a Boston November?
While I had an amazing journey (and look forward to my next!) I got rather lonely at times, and missed everyone I left behind. I was so happy to see Kate at the airport to welcome her monkey home. <3
While I had an amazing journey (and look forward to my next!) I got rather lonely at times, and missed everyone I left behind. I was so happy to see Kate at the airport to welcome her monkey home. <3
Monday, February 9, 2015
Trick or Treat: You Can't Go Home Yet
My five hostel roommates in Porto were all French women. Not all part of the same group, as I eventually pieced together. We started chatting a bit after I revealed that I could understand *some* of what they were saying. :) One in particular, Jennifer, really enjoyed practicing her English with me and asked me all sorts of silly questions about America. Four of us were in the room without dinner plans, so we decided to go out in our neighborhood. It was an area with lots of bars and restaurants, but so far a more laid-back vibe than Lisboa's Bairro Alto. Vaguely reminiscent of Camberville back home. But would this change, for it was both Friday and Halloween?
Do the Portuguese even celebrate Halloween? We saw many costumed revelers, but were they locals or visitors like us? At any rate, the party in the streets seemed to go all night. This was mainly observed from the bedroom, as I had had a long day and needed to get up in the morning to fly home. Leaving the hostel at 9, the area was filthy. In addition to the bottles and other detritus, I saw early morning shamblers still in costume. The gaits of these zombies seemed much less affected than earlier. After breakfast and a minor hassle involving my Andante card, I was on the way to the airport (which is sadly not named the Airporto) with exactly zero euros in pocket. I'm strangely proud of this. Jennifer and Estelle were with me in order to catch their flight back to France.
Ah. But. It was not to be.
I'd been hearing rumors about a strike for a few days. Nothing specific, and I'd also been hearing reassurances that it would be over by my flight, or wouldn't affect me for other reasons. Doing my own research to back this up wasn't fruitful, and I received no communications from my airlines about this either. What I did receive was the standard nag email about early check-in, however, so I assumed it must be fine. Even in the departures hall, there was no indication that anything was amiss. I had to check in at the counter before I heard the news that my flight was cancelled due to a strike. Sigh.
The next available flight was early the next morning, so they set me up in a hotel room with meal vouchers. It was easily the nicest room of my trip, because it wasn't like anything I would have chosen: a business hotel by the airport, far from downtown. The location was initially disappointing, as I was hoping to use my extra day to see a few things I'd missed. But then I realized I was close to the coast, which totally counted.
My first stop: Castelo Queijo. Cheese Castle. How could I pass that up? It's an old fort on the coast that's fun to poke around in for a bit but it's thoroughly overshadowed by the might of the sea. Waves are fierce here on the semi-rocky shore. A fair number of surfers at the beachy parts. Very interesting rocks here, and a helpful geology boardwalk to educate! A little further down, I walked out onto a breakwater where I learned another lesson: a refresher on the purpose of a breakwater. Thankfully my clothes dried quickly in the sun.
It turns out there's a very convenient bus downtown, so I headed back that way soon after getting friendly with the wave. I finally took the Gaia gondola down to the river side and then I walked back up the hill to another port house: Croft this time. The experience is remarkably similar to Taylor (which I would later discover is actually the same company) and I finished the evening at a cozy fado/port bar for additional tastings.
Do the Portuguese even celebrate Halloween? We saw many costumed revelers, but were they locals or visitors like us? At any rate, the party in the streets seemed to go all night. This was mainly observed from the bedroom, as I had had a long day and needed to get up in the morning to fly home. Leaving the hostel at 9, the area was filthy. In addition to the bottles and other detritus, I saw early morning shamblers still in costume. The gaits of these zombies seemed much less affected than earlier. After breakfast and a minor hassle involving my Andante card, I was on the way to the airport (which is sadly not named the Airporto) with exactly zero euros in pocket. I'm strangely proud of this. Jennifer and Estelle were with me in order to catch their flight back to France.
Ah. But. It was not to be.
I'd been hearing rumors about a strike for a few days. Nothing specific, and I'd also been hearing reassurances that it would be over by my flight, or wouldn't affect me for other reasons. Doing my own research to back this up wasn't fruitful, and I received no communications from my airlines about this either. What I did receive was the standard nag email about early check-in, however, so I assumed it must be fine. Even in the departures hall, there was no indication that anything was amiss. I had to check in at the counter before I heard the news that my flight was cancelled due to a strike. Sigh.
The next available flight was early the next morning, so they set me up in a hotel room with meal vouchers. It was easily the nicest room of my trip, because it wasn't like anything I would have chosen: a business hotel by the airport, far from downtown. The location was initially disappointing, as I was hoping to use my extra day to see a few things I'd missed. But then I realized I was close to the coast, which totally counted.
My first stop: Castelo Queijo. Cheese Castle. How could I pass that up? It's an old fort on the coast that's fun to poke around in for a bit but it's thoroughly overshadowed by the might of the sea. Waves are fierce here on the semi-rocky shore. A fair number of surfers at the beachy parts. Very interesting rocks here, and a helpful geology boardwalk to educate! A little further down, I walked out onto a breakwater where I learned another lesson: a refresher on the purpose of a breakwater. Thankfully my clothes dried quickly in the sun.
It turns out there's a very convenient bus downtown, so I headed back that way soon after getting friendly with the wave. I finally took the Gaia gondola down to the river side and then I walked back up the hill to another port house: Croft this time. The experience is remarkably similar to Taylor (which I would later discover is actually the same company) and I finished the evening at a cozy fado/port bar for additional tastings.
Sunday, February 8, 2015
Off-Season Misadventures do Douro
Don't visit the Douro valley in the post-harvest off-season, at least without both a car and an international roaming plan. They're clearly not expecting visitors. I had some lovely walks, but I had the hardest time finding information, and I couldn't book a cruise at all. I decided to go by train instead, as there is year-round frequent service. It was to be primarily a scenic journey, without too much thought as to what I'd do in the destination town(s). Maybe tour a vineyard or do a tasting?
A common destination for the cruise/train combo trip I'd hoped for is Peso da Régua, but I'd heard Pinhão upriver was nicer. My ticket was flexible enough for me to visit both. It amused me to notice that we went by a factory that processed wood, rock, and brick. I realized that I'd lose my undeclared game of Settlers of Catan against them and was about to give up until I spotted fields of sheep and wheat for me to claim. Otherwise I was disappointed with the journey: not nearly as scenic as I'd hoped. It could have been the hazy morning light, perhaps due to the smoke from the many fires we passed (??) or the simple fact that the grapes were no longer on the vines.
Arriving at Pinhão, I was one of the many disembarking with a clueless look. After a brief fruitless search for tourist information up and down the deserted main street, a fellow train passenger spotted me and asked if I knew where to go. Nope! No plan at all. (My research the previous night turned up nothing. I now understood why.) She at least had a printout of destinations and notes, and graciously allowed me to tag along. I wasn't entirely sure whether we were aiming for a vineyard, winery, viewpoint, or some combination of these. We asked for directions and got the answer "that way, 4 kilometers, uphill." Hm. Farther than we'd hoped but we had no better plan.
As we climbed, the valley opened up beneath us. This really was a beautiful place. Terraced vineyards in every direction, the Douro below. Soon, far below. Faraway signs touting Quintas (vineyards/wineries) or the port houses they supplied. My favorites advertized the ubiquitous Sandeman, usually accompanied by their logo, a vaguely menacing cloaked figure holding a glass. I wonder what the workers think with that image constantly looming over them.
About halfway toQuinta Godot our mysterious destination, my companion announces that the views we've already seen are quite excellent enough, and she's heading back to town. I consider it, but I've still got a minimum of two hours before my first train option arrives, so why not keep going? Before long, it gets considerably steeper in the hot sun, and I realize the wisdom of her choice. Fine. Back to town.
I'm in luck! Lunch is good, filling, and cheap, even in this ghost town. Some time remains, so I wander down to the river to find ... people! Restaurants! Even the damn tourist information booth. I guess they're expecting everyone to come by boat. Oh well. I find my new friend again and we compare notes on what to do next. Two basic options: directly back to Porto, or take another stab at this day by visiting Régua on the way back. We both pick Régua, her choice for a cathedral, and mine for wandering off at random again. Régua's a good deal bigger, so this idea seems vaguely plausible to me.
Lesson learned from Pinhão, I walk directly to the docks. A cruise director points me to tourist info across town. They are open! And have map handouts! With wineries on them! However, most are many km away. One that looks walkable is back by the train station, where I need to get to anyway, so my choice is made. Ah, but it seems to be deserted as well. I can just walk right in to a room full of vats. Olá? No response. I finally find human contact at the shop. There's no tour available, which I didn't understand at first, but I did stick around for a super-cheesy short film and a tasting.
...and then I missed my train. Curses! There was even a shortcut back from the winery that would have saved me, but it only became apparent once I was already in the station. But you know what? The sun was setting and there's an infinite number of less beautiful places I could have been. My unintended extra hour went to good use by buying a snack for a walk across a few bridges, including the wonderfully named Ponte Metálica. From there I saw that the Sandeman casts his shadow over Régua too.
A common destination for the cruise/train combo trip I'd hoped for is Peso da Régua, but I'd heard Pinhão upriver was nicer. My ticket was flexible enough for me to visit both. It amused me to notice that we went by a factory that processed wood, rock, and brick. I realized that I'd lose my undeclared game of Settlers of Catan against them and was about to give up until I spotted fields of sheep and wheat for me to claim. Otherwise I was disappointed with the journey: not nearly as scenic as I'd hoped. It could have been the hazy morning light, perhaps due to the smoke from the many fires we passed (??) or the simple fact that the grapes were no longer on the vines.
Arriving at Pinhão, I was one of the many disembarking with a clueless look. After a brief fruitless search for tourist information up and down the deserted main street, a fellow train passenger spotted me and asked if I knew where to go. Nope! No plan at all. (My research the previous night turned up nothing. I now understood why.) She at least had a printout of destinations and notes, and graciously allowed me to tag along. I wasn't entirely sure whether we were aiming for a vineyard, winery, viewpoint, or some combination of these. We asked for directions and got the answer "that way, 4 kilometers, uphill." Hm. Farther than we'd hoped but we had no better plan.
As we climbed, the valley opened up beneath us. This really was a beautiful place. Terraced vineyards in every direction, the Douro below. Soon, far below. Faraway signs touting Quintas (vineyards/wineries) or the port houses they supplied. My favorites advertized the ubiquitous Sandeman, usually accompanied by their logo, a vaguely menacing cloaked figure holding a glass. I wonder what the workers think with that image constantly looming over them.
About halfway to
I'm in luck! Lunch is good, filling, and cheap, even in this ghost town. Some time remains, so I wander down to the river to find ... people! Restaurants! Even the damn tourist information booth. I guess they're expecting everyone to come by boat. Oh well. I find my new friend again and we compare notes on what to do next. Two basic options: directly back to Porto, or take another stab at this day by visiting Régua on the way back. We both pick Régua, her choice for a cathedral, and mine for wandering off at random again. Régua's a good deal bigger, so this idea seems vaguely plausible to me.
Lesson learned from Pinhão, I walk directly to the docks. A cruise director points me to tourist info across town. They are open! And have map handouts! With wineries on them! However, most are many km away. One that looks walkable is back by the train station, where I need to get to anyway, so my choice is made. Ah, but it seems to be deserted as well. I can just walk right in to a room full of vats. Olá? No response. I finally find human contact at the shop. There's no tour available, which I didn't understand at first, but I did stick around for a super-cheesy short film and a tasting.
...and then I missed my train. Curses! There was even a shortcut back from the winery that would have saved me, but it only became apparent once I was already in the station. But you know what? The sun was setting and there's an infinite number of less beautiful places I could have been. My unintended extra hour went to good use by buying a snack for a walk across a few bridges, including the wonderfully named Ponte Metálica. From there I saw that the Sandeman casts his shadow over Régua too.
The Sandeman Can
 |
| Source: https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Sandeman_Port_2.jpg |
Who can take a sunrise
Sprinkle it with dew
Plant upon a hillside
With a rustic river view
The Sandeman
The Sandeman can
Cause he mixes it with brandy
To stop the fermentation
Who can take a grapevine
And harvest it by hand
Who's that mysterious figure
Watching over this land?
The Sandeman
The Sandeman can
Cause he mixes it with brandy
To stop the fermentation
And it's aged in wood
Cause the Sandeman thinks it should
Porto, Portugal, Home of Port
Porto is a beautiful city, and hilly, like most cities I've visited on this trip. I had difficulty figuring how the hills related to the street pattern, so I did a lot of unnecessary ups and downs on my first day and a half. Porto is across the Rio Douro from Vila Nova da Gaia, home of the port wine cellars. The Ponte Luís I connects the cities via two decks: one nearly at river level, and one far above. Navigation became much easier once I figured out the best routes to the bridge landings, and I crossed many times. Views from the upper deck are outstanding.
On arrival I ate a Francesinha, which has got to be the local answer to poutine. A sandwich made of meat, meat, and meat, covered in cheese and a heavy sauce. I decided that one was enough for the weekend, but it was highly appreciated after that initial walking around.
The next day I went to a few ticket booths to find a long cruise up the Douro but nothing was available, which in retrospect should have been a hint. Instead I booked a short one for later that day, and took a walking tour in the meantime. That was a lot of fun, and took us to places I wouldn't have found on my own, like the stairs to the top of the city walls, the market, and the cafe where Harry Potter was allegedly written. A good way to meet other travelers too. I declined the tour guide's suggestion of another Francesinha for lunch.
The mini-cruise was refreshing on that hot day, and it took us to the mouth of the Douro as well as a little bit upstream, under several of Porto's bridges. I also saw catacombs under a church museum, and then it was time for some port. Ample signage on the VNdG side of the river points the way to the many port houses, which typically have English names, due to the heavy involvement of the English in developing the port industry. The general rule is: the harder it is to get to, the better the port. Taylor was the hardest climb, so that's where I went. Giant barrels, a (corporate-approved) history, and tastings were my reward. Thanks to taking the last tour of the day on the offseason, I was treated to sunset views from their famous terrace across the Douro.
On arrival I ate a Francesinha, which has got to be the local answer to poutine. A sandwich made of meat, meat, and meat, covered in cheese and a heavy sauce. I decided that one was enough for the weekend, but it was highly appreciated after that initial walking around.
The next day I went to a few ticket booths to find a long cruise up the Douro but nothing was available, which in retrospect should have been a hint. Instead I booked a short one for later that day, and took a walking tour in the meantime. That was a lot of fun, and took us to places I wouldn't have found on my own, like the stairs to the top of the city walls, the market, and the cafe where Harry Potter was allegedly written. A good way to meet other travelers too. I declined the tour guide's suggestion of another Francesinha for lunch.
The mini-cruise was refreshing on that hot day, and it took us to the mouth of the Douro as well as a little bit upstream, under several of Porto's bridges. I also saw catacombs under a church museum, and then it was time for some port. Ample signage on the VNdG side of the river points the way to the many port houses, which typically have English names, due to the heavy involvement of the English in developing the port industry. The general rule is: the harder it is to get to, the better the port. Taylor was the hardest climb, so that's where I went. Giant barrels, a (corporate-approved) history, and tastings were my reward. Thanks to taking the last tour of the day on the offseason, I was treated to sunset views from their famous terrace across the Douro.
Monday, February 2, 2015
What I Learned at the University of Coimbra
Was there anything to do between Lisboa and Porto? Plenty, of course, but what was feasible? I had the dumb idea (or good idea, poorly executed) to spend a 4-hour train layover in Coimbra. Surely that would be plenty of time to see the highlights of this small city, right?
Things I know now that I did not upon entering Coimbra:
I'd recommend a trip to Coimbra. It's a lovely place. And now that I've been there once, I know the correct way to visit should I ever attempt it again.
Things I know now that I did not upon entering Coimbra:
- Trains between the long-distance "B" train station and the downtown "A" station follow a specific timetable, because they are normal regional trains, not a special intracity shuttle
- Station B is close enough to downtown that you shouldn't bother going to Station A
- The other reason to go to Station A - bag storage - is also irrelevant because the Cafe Cristal has closed
- Taxis are hard to find
- Admission to the Coimbra University Library requires a timed ticket
I'd recommend a trip to Coimbra. It's a lovely place. And now that I've been there once, I know the correct way to visit should I ever attempt it again.
Lisboa Endnotes
I ended my Lisboa trip with another tourist day. This one was more successful.
I started in the Alfama, the original settlement on a hill. I was in line at the Castelo São Jorge when it opened - a very good thing considering the crowds I saw later. This offers scampering opportunities similar to Sintra's Moorish Castle, with city views instead of forest. After that I walked back downhill to the cathedral (Sé) and returned to the metro system.
Later that day I visited the wonderful Gulbankian museum. An extensive collection of antiquities, as well as an exhibit on artist René Lalique, whom I had not heard of before. I really enjoyed how he combined different materials like metals and glass in his works. I also continued my aqueduct studies by visiting its terminus, at the Mãe d’Àgua (Mother of Water) building, a beautiful indoor reservoir now used as a function space. There's a walkway to the roof that allows you to look through the (unused) aqueduct itself.
Not a whole lot more to say about this day. OK, on to Coimbra and Porto.
I started in the Alfama, the original settlement on a hill. I was in line at the Castelo São Jorge when it opened - a very good thing considering the crowds I saw later. This offers scampering opportunities similar to Sintra's Moorish Castle, with city views instead of forest. After that I walked back downhill to the cathedral (Sé) and returned to the metro system.
Later that day I visited the wonderful Gulbankian museum. An extensive collection of antiquities, as well as an exhibit on artist René Lalique, whom I had not heard of before. I really enjoyed how he combined different materials like metals and glass in his works. I also continued my aqueduct studies by visiting its terminus, at the Mãe d’Àgua (Mother of Water) building, a beautiful indoor reservoir now used as a function space. There's a walkway to the roof that allows you to look through the (unused) aqueduct itself.
Not a whole lot more to say about this day. OK, on to Coimbra and Porto.
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