Two nights in Porto

After exchanging big happy hugs with the attendees of the Longing Retreat in the Algarve, Kevin and I loaded in our dusty rental car. (Everything in the Algarve is dusty. Beautiful and dusty. Thankfully the rental car warned us and said as long as the inside of the car was clean we're good!) Kevin and I had been thinking through what to do after the retreat. We loved the Algarve and somehow had managed to see most of it in the week! We could certainly spend endless time in southern Portugal but we found ourselves curious to see more of the country.

We decided to basically drive the whole thing.

We set north for one of the northern-most coastal cities, Porto. It took about 7 hours to drive up there from Carrapateira. As we told people our destination they were aghast! What a journey! We're like... we're from the US. We drive these kind of distances all the time.

The Portuguese generally do not.

Having spent about four (magnificent!) days in Lisbon prior to the retreat, we decided to skip a stop in Lisbon on our way back north. Instead, we opted for Coimbra for a lunch break.

The hilly, sober city of Coimbra is only about an hour and a half north of Lisbon but it's totally the anal, high achieving older sibling. Coimbra is the intellectual capital of Portugal and home of its oldest university. In Lisbon, Fado is working class music sung mournfully by both men and women, and exuberant applause is expected from the enraptured audience. In Coimbra, only men sing Fado. Traditionally, celibate male students sang doleful Fado beneath women's balconies. As such, to this day applause is uncommon. Instead, polite coughing acknowledges the music.

Coimbra is intellectual, repressed, and super weird.

Students still wear robes, which inspired JK Rowling who wrote Harry Potter in this city. Coimbra is Hogwarts.

Kevin was obviously ready to enroll in a course in medieval studies, given he could basically live quasi-medieval. I urged us back onto the road.

We arrived in Porto around rush hour. Kevin navigated the traffic and a European stick with aplomb to get us to our little airbnb flat in tact.

After settling in and making out with a big fluffy cat, we headed down to the river.

Porto is fun! From the banks of the river the city sweeps up two steep cliffs. Porto felt more British than other parts of the country. This could have been in part due to the noticeably cooler climate 7 hours north of the hot and dry Algarve. I think it's also simple British influence as Brits have long come down to Porto to enjoy Port.

Along the river banks, tables were set up by big heaters, musicians played music, and magicians entertained. Big, whole fish were served up after appetizers of olives and crusty bread. Barrels of port and olives were hidden in the stone caves along the river banks.

We wandered through the cool night before returning back to the amorous cat at our flat. We slept long and well before venturing out again. We went back to the fun river banks and climbed higher into the sleepy city. Portugal does not do mornings. In the mornings, most Portuguese seem to want only coffee and quiet. It took some searching but we found a little cafe that would prepare eggs. Everyone else in the cafe was British. Go figure.

We climbed the steep cobblestone streets finding tons of art, cafes, bookstores, and of course, churches. The city definitely has a distinct personality from its southern neighbor, Lisbon. Maybe something like Lisbon is San Francisco to Porto being Seattle. The more northern city being less obvious but very cool in an underground way.

Anyway.

We loved it.