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Published: November 27th 2008
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(November 17th - 19th) On the short and very fast train ride to Porto was a chance to finally view more of the coast and countryside of Portugal. I plugged into Chrissy’s mix of Portuguese music from Brazil and enjoyed the sights. The west coast of Portugal is just beautiful, and it made the journey go by quite quickly. One quick bus ride from the train station and we were at our newest temporary home.
Porto is famous for pretty much one thing, its port wine. So Brian and I planned on taking our two days here to relax, recoup, and indulge ourselves in all of the sweet delights Porto had to offer. Porto is an interesting layout, more of what I picture Brazil to look like than anything. Many many stacked houses that look as though they were built a century ago and haven’t been touched up since. Paint peeling or non-existent, windows broken, and structures that looks as if the big bad wolf would blow them over on an exhale. That’s on one side of the river. On the other side of the river are hundreds of wineries going deep back into the hills. The entire waterfront is
lined with wine boats carrying multiple barrels of oh-so-delicious port wine. And in between the two sides is an enormous bridge that towers above the water. We actually enjoyed the rougher side better. Our first night we walked around and met four of my five favorite people in Porto.
The first person, was the patchmaker of Porto. On my neverending quest for a patch in each city we visit, we stumbled across an actual artisan who sews flags and embroiders patches for a living. This tiny little man dug deep into his pile of precious patches to find one he had lovingly put extra time and care into for my personal souvenir. I think most tourists go to the other side of the river for their Porto patches. Seeing as the patch was only 2 euro and we had a 20, we were in a bit of a pickle. Brian decided to run up the street to grab a soda and get change. Unfortunately all he could find was a fruit vendor who wouldn’t charge him for the one orange Brian decided to purchase. While Brian was gone, I stood there as the tiny little man tried to make
conversation with me. He started by saying things in Portuguese louder and slower, I feel like an idiot for ever having done that to anyone in English. Then he tried a different tactic, “Liverpool?” he asked me. I smiled and replied, “Manchester United.” He smiled even bigger as he stated, “Cristiano Rinaldo!” in the same loud voice he tried minutes before. Just then Brian walked in, successful with his mission, to find the two of us laughing. It was fantastic!
The second person we met in Porto was the woman of the olives. She had a tiny little shop right by the waterfront where she sold a few bottles of port, some fruits and nuts, and all the possible kinds of olives you could imagine! Garlic olives, olives soaked in wine, olives stuffed with nuts and cheeses, olives with various spices tickled over their precious skins! My favorite, by far, were the jalapeno soaked olives. I ate them all the way through Barcelona!
Now, in order to meet the third person, we had to do a bit of searching. Lonely Planet had once again told us of a fantastic find that we decided to search for, a tiny
little bar where we could wine taste on the rough side of the river . . . Las Maisons des Porto. There are about ten tables in this dimly lit bar and two wine maisons on staff at a time who speak several languages and know everything there is to know about port wine. Filipe served us glass after glass with chocolate, fruit, or nuts depending on the exact flavor he wanted us to extract from the wine, and each glass was delicately served with a story of its birth, development, and now resting place upon our lips. We told Felipe that when we eventually opened our bar in the city, he was hired! (Currently we will have a staff of employees from almost every country we’ve visited including Paul and Daithi from Galway, the waitresses from Madrid, and now Felipe!) We started the night as beginners and are now deemed “intermediate” port drinkers after our extensive interactive lesson. Thank you Filipe!
Before meeting the fourth person, we had to find our way home. Felipe warned us of the “many bads” in various areas of Porto, and gave us directions that would take us through safer, well-lit neighborhoods. Holding
true to form to getting lost in every city we’ve been in so far, we got lost. Now, those of you who know me probably think I was leading. Yes I have no sense of direction, but on this trip I let Brian lead and I try not to argue. Pretty much anytime I offer a suggestion, he does the opposite and we find the fastest way home. On this night we missed our turn by inches and ended up walking around the entire city rather than the fourth of it we had stuck to earlier in the night.
Upon arriving back in the neighborhood of our room at Duas Nacoes, tired and a bit defeated, we stumbled up the road praying a market was still open. Everything was closed being that is was 11:30 at night, except for one tiny restaurant, Casa Viuva. There were about eight tables, one chef, and one waiter. It looked like a brother and sister owned the place with the sister cooking and the brother waiting tables. Again, we were back to pointing as I studied the menu and looked for anything that looked remotely familiar. I was able to pick out the
potatoes, rice, tomato salad, and pork of some kind, so that is what we ordered. Our waiter kindly brought us one of the most delicious meals I’ve ever eaten for so little expense. Brian indulged on four helpings of the escalopes porcos in the 48 hours we were in Porto because they were so delicious. All of the food was clean, came fast, and cost next to nothing!
The second day in Porto, Brian got sick, so rather than push our luck we only ventured out for a brief period of time to get more escalopes porcos and otherwise confined ourselves to the room.
The last day, Brian was feeling better, so we walked to the other side of the river, found it to be nothing special and definitely nothing more than what we could get on a wine trip to Sonoma or Napa, and so we went back to the rougher side once again. Although our favorite restaurant was packed to the rafters, we found another little spot to eat, relax, and meet the last of our favorite people of Porto, Adriana. Adriana provided us with free internet, beer for 1 euro, and kind service when the
other waitress assumed Brian and I wanted two of everything and brought us a boatload of food! And Although I protested, Adriana made me promise I go to her homeland of Romania and visit Dracula’s castle in Transylvania. Looks like I will be facing more fears on this adventure than originally anticipated! Love and monkey kisses to all of you back at home!
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