Of high lows and low highs

The lady at the visitor center in Seia had said the day before, that it wouldn't rain the next day, as it had right then. 

She was right. It didn't rain. It poured! At around 8 o'clock the water came down in troves. But only for about an hour.

Once the rain had stopped, we made our way to the starting point for the trail up Torre. Which involved driving up that very mountain till almost to the top. For three quarters of the way the visibility was roughly 20 meters. Exactly what you want, driving up a windy mountain road. For the last few kilometers it did open up, though, and suddenly it was nice and sunny.

The small parking spot from where to start the trail is only about 2km down the road from the actual summit. You can see it very clearly and this is where you start feeling cheated. At least if you are into hiking. If you are not, keep on driving for three more minutes. Same difference.

See that white speck there in the middle on the ridge? That's me!!!

Having asked for a nice long, strenuous hike up the mountain, this was the suggestion my human had gotten. Turns out, it really is the only trail there is. She was told it would take her around 6 hours return. So after they left, I settled in for a little nap. Which was cut short dramatically when they got back after a bit over two hours.

My human was not impressed. The trail first lead down a bit, then up to a small lake, around that and then up to the summit plateau. Not a peak, a giant plateau. Well, she knew that before, but it still was a bit of a shock to find an aspiring Zugspitze up there. All of you who have been there can relate.

In fact, she was so pissed off having driven all the way up here, having gotten all the clothes and boots out, having looked forward to a good hike, that we left the park immediately, without stopping in another part of the park for the night to do another hike in the morning. Which had been the plan. And it would probably have been nice. But sometimes she is a bit irrational. And when she's done with a place, she's done!

After picking another spot for the night, more than half the way to Porto, that's where we went. Fermentelos, a tiny village, played host for us that night. We stayed there at a picnic spot with a little wooden tower looking out over a small lake/marsh.

On the way there we were stopped in a roundabout by the police, though. Not just us, but every other car. They checked the papers, asked what we were in Portugal for and for how long. Did we have a house here? After answering that he was looking at her house, he wanted to see the interior. "Nice", he said. "I know", she said, and on we went.

After some exercise and a quick shower in the morning, we were off to Porto. Or rather to Vila Nova de Gaia, which is on the other side of the river Douro, facing Porto. We parked a few kilometers down the river, pretty much where it meets the ocean. From our spot you could climb down over some large boulders and you would have been in the water. Less than advisable, though. This area isn't called Lavadores, washing machines, for nothing. 

Quiet right then, but you can see the potential

Since it was only early afternoon, my human went for a walk towards Gaia. She ended up walking all the way to the first bridge on which you can cross the river on foot to the Porto side, around 7 kilometers. It's a nice walk, always along the river, then through the touristy part of Gaia on the waterfront and across the Ponte de Luise I. to Ribeira, Porto's picturesque riverside neighborhood. 

Ponte de Arrabida

                                                               Looks like Eiffel, you say? Correct!

Ponte de Luis I. with the Mosteiro da Serra do Pillar

Here you can still wash your clothes like your grandmothers did

And then hang them up to dry for everyone to see

After enjoying a cold beer and some (semi-delicious) Churros, she walked all the way back, chatting to her parents along the way. 

The small parking spot was half filled with camper vans and half with normal cars. All of the latter ones took off after sunset and it became quiet. Besides the sound of the waves clashing against the rocks. Which was the sound that put us to sleep for the next three nights.

Never enough sunset shots

The weekend was spent exploring Porto. And there is plenty to see. As per usual, my human joined a walking tour of the city to get an overview on the lay of the land. Which once again was highly informative and very funny.

Before that, she joined the queue to get into the Livraria Lello. Which is a book shop. But it claims to be the most beautiful in the world. And they do have a point here. It's absolutely marvelous. Especially the staircase and the glass window in the roof. See for yourself:

The line at 9am

                                                            Yes, she did wait long to take that shot

You pay 5 Euros to get in, which will get discounted from the price of a book, if you buy one.  They open at 9.30, my human was there at 9 and after they opened, it took her a good 20 minutes to get in. That's how long the queue was. Worth it, though, if you like architecture or books. Or both.

J.K. Rowling was said to have taken some inspiration for her Harry Potter books from this book store. Until, a year ago or so, she said that during her two years of living in Porto, she had actually never visited. Take that, all you Muggles! 

She also got a ticket for a sightseeing bus with commentary, which drives you around the city on two different routes, in combination with a little river cruise under the six bridges of Porto and a port wine cellar visit with tasting at the Càlem Wine cellar. The guide there was really quite hilarious and made everyone's mouth water talking about a Port Tonic. Porto's version of a Gin Tonic, of course. A good thing you had to go through the shop to exit the place. So if you want to try this drink, we have the goods.

Of course you have to see the Torre de Clèrigos and the Cathedral, which is where the city originates. Porto has a long and interesting history and the countrie's name actually originates here. The word Portugal derives from the Roman-Celtic place name Portus Cale. Cale was the name of a Celtic deity and the name of an early settlement, pretty much where present-day Vila Nova de Gaia is. The name evolved into Portucale and then Portugale during the 7th and 8th centuries.

This name giving to the whole country is one big argument of the inhabitants of Porto when it comes to the question of the most important city in the country. There definitely is a healthy rivalry between Porto and Lisbon. Not only when it comes to soccer. Even Rio de Janeiro was the capital of the country for a brief period in the early 19th century, but Porto never was.

Just a train station

The Gaia side is where all the cellars are and from where they started shipping the port wine to England and also Brasil in the 15th Century. Subsequently, the Alto Douro, where the grapes for port wine are grown, became the first ever legally protected wine-growing region in the world in 1756 and was  listed as a UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2001. 

Here you can also visit the Mosteiro da Serra do Pillar (or just look at it from the outside, as my human did) and the Jardim do Morro, one of many great view points of the city and a favorite for sunsets. And if you are feeling lazy, you can even use a cable car to get up there. 

Another sight is the Palacio de Cristal. Well, there used to be a palace of glass. Now there is a multi-purpose arena, colloquially known as the UFO, but is actually named after Rosa Mota, a marathon runner from Porto. The surrounding gardens are still very much what they were back then, though. It's nice now, but I can imagine that in blooming season, it must be spectacular. And also a nice, shady retreat from the summer heat. 

Besides port wine, there is another local "delicacy" one has to try while in the city, Francesinha. Basically, it's two slices of white bread, layered in between are dried sausage, fresh sausage and some kind of meat. The whole thing is then topped with cheese, grilled for a moment and then drenched in some kind of tomato based sauce. 

You'll have to make up your own mind when you get there, but it wasn't the culinary highlight of Portugal. 

All the while I was sitting right next to the ocean, getting salty. Which, obviously, is great for my rust problem. I guess my human didn't think about that when we parked here. Only about the sun setting into the ocean right in front of us. Which was nice, I have to admit. And it was safe. I guess. At least I'm still in one piece. Which is nice, too!

No matter if you look at it from the river or from a high vantage point, this is a very, very beautiful city. One tip, though, if you ever make it here: pack your walking shoes. And be prepared to walk up-hill. All the time!