Eating and Drinking our Way Through Porto

Wow, what a trip.  I seem to be paying for a full weekend of food, drink, and adventure with a wicked sore throat and cold, but it was so good that I want to write about it, despite my weakened weariness.

We travelled the 200ish miles from Lisbon to Porto on a speed train on Friday night.  It was sleek, clean, and nauseatingly fast (up to 120 mph at times).  Rolling in to Porto around 10pm, we got our first glimpse of the Douro River and the grand set of bridges that traverse its steep banks.  Too tired from the week of teaching and travel, we headed out of the station, looking to hop in the first taxi that came our way... until I saw that said taxi was being driving by a someone still smoking a cigarette.  Too nautious to want to to deal, I tried to make a beeline for the second taxi.  I seemed to have upset the natural order of things with this move, as the driver tried to steer us back towards the first, so I told him in broken port-anol (portuguese + espanol... it's what I speak these days) that I didn't want to go in the taxi with someone that was smoking.  The other taxi driver expressed his displeasure and dismissed us and T2 took us on, grudgingly.  At first, the ride was slow and calm... the radio hummed with recaps of the Portuguese national soccer match against Israel, the streetlights seemed low and warm, and the buildings stood quiet around us; and then the taxi driver took his revenge for our touristy pickyness with an all out drag race through the now-not-so-calming streets of Porto.  I motioned for him to slow down... he didn't... but then we arrived.  Not the best start, but it would get better with a good night's rest.

We didn't know much about Porto going in to the trip; colleagues at school told us to just walk around and enjoy the scenery and good food.  Although we certainly planned on doing that, my priority from the moment we woke on Saturday morning was to seek out what had been missing from my WI-born, CA-nurtured oh so spoiled life: good beer.  After extensive internet research I had found that one of the only craft brewers in the country of Portugal could be found in this radical northern city.  Long recognized as rabble-rousers with filthy mouths, Porto-ans (?) seemed like just the kind of people to demand more from their barley drinks than what the 2 huge breweries would provide.  After a typical buffet-style dinner at our perfectly adequate and reasonable hotel (strangely accompanied by a television with MTV style "Urban Beats" playing), Jyl and I ventured towards the address, and found salvation: brewing supplies and a full line of flip topped refreshments, running the gamut from Stouts to Ambers, with a refined looking IPA to boot.  The brewers were just the kind of folk you would expect from artists at the cusp: gracious, helpful, and happy to sell.  We loaded up our backpacks with brew gear and craft beer, and waddled to the hotel feeling victorious before we'd even begun to see the city.

 














After unloading at home base, we wandered out in search of whatever cared to come our way.  Porto quickly revealed itself to be even more grand, vertical, and spectacular than Sintra, which we had endeared itself to us the week before.  The air was cool and smelled of fall and old stone.  Decrepit buildings stood waiting to become homes again, while other had been kept and cared for.  All of it was beautiful.  After taking in the sights for awhile, it was time to find sustenance.  Co-workers had suggested finding the sandwich to end all sandwiches: the Francesinha (roughly: "Little Frenchie").  I dragged my meat averse wife (who wins the "good sport" award for the day) halfway across the city up 2 hills just to find the place that one blog claimed had the best in the city.  I think the pictures can tell the story better than I can: It's a sandwich that seems like it belongs in the Midwest, with several layers of different meat products (sausage, ham, beef, etc), big old pieces of Texas toast-style bread, an egg and cheese draped and melted over the top, and a hearty (but certainly not healthy) dousing by some sort of beer sauce.  Needless to say, I cleaned my plate, and am now several years closer to death.

From there, we were in need of a good walking, and the city obliged.  We stumbled down the steep gorge towards the Douro River and marveled at the beautiful view from the bottom.  Eventually we headed for a tour at the Offley cellars, one of the many port wine producers that is based here.  It was a quick tour, but a tasty one, which was much enhanced by an overly provocative and dramatic video of people drinking port in the room (lots of slow motion close ups of wine-soaked lips made it seem like porn for port lovers).  Regardless, and perhaps unsurprisingly, we left happy.  We strolled along stone-cobbled streets and meandered along the rolling river. 

Contented and feeling a little worn down from many hours of explorations (with a solid 7-8 miles under our belt already) we hopped onto a boat for a "6-bridge tour," which sounded like just the right number...  I couldn't have handled 7 (who could?).  Sunset was rapidly approaching, so it was the perfect time for peacefully enjoying the sites of ancient buildings roll by... until a well meaning Bulgarian man boisterously commandeered our ears with stories about different buildings (which we couldn't really understand), and demands that we kiss each other while he took our picture.  The moment he diverted his attention to another unsuspecting couple, we bolted for the bow, and resumed peaceful appreciation of the 6 lovely bridges.  

As twilight came up, we started to think about where we could sit down for another meal out on the town.  We headed towards the University to seek out a place that had been recommended to us.  On our way we happened across a small, well lit room with 3 tables and smooth tunes swinging out the open door as a young hip-looking chef worked casually but industriously at a petite, modern kitchen.  We did a double take... walked on... tried to argue ourselves out of it, but then Jyl turned us around and inquired as to what this little slice of heaven was serving, and if there might be room for us.  The young chef and one woman waiter said they had room for us (along with the 4 other guests that would fit) for the 5 course meal in an hour, at 8pm.  Another victory!  Wait, but "quanto custa (how much does it cost)?"

"For first time guests, YOU decide what you think it should cost.  Just come!"

It sounded dangerous, but as sure as the port still coursed through our system, we were ready for adventure.  We came back at 8, and thoroughly enjoyed an epic meal at the "non-restaurant concept" known as Pedro Limao (see my next blog post for more details and lots of pictures).

All told, our trip was great.  Porto is worth a trip for any lover of good food, strong drink, impressive architecture, history, or everyday adventure.  As the train rolled back south on Sunday, rain splattered the windows and we looked out at the bridges once more, knowing that it wouldn't be the last. 

Visiting Sintra: winding roads, old castles, and armored men

With a month of school solidly under our belts, we are committed to pushing ourselves to get out further from our cozy home to explore what this ancient country has to offer.  On a sunny saturday in early October, we decided to venture up into the Sintra hills (or mountains? At 1700 feet, it's hard to say) to see one of the most well known tourist destinations in all of Portugal.  We took the 406 bus out of Cascais, which took a circuitous route out to the West and North, out along the coast and around to Sintra from the north side.  The trip had the advantage of showing us new scenic areas, such as the "cabo da roca", the furthest point West in continental Europe.  Unfortunately, we soon discovered that it's hard to enjoy said scenery when you're near ready to lose your breakfast due to a combination of Portuguese racecar-style driving and hairpin turns.  We managed to keep the cookies down, but it's safe to say we won't be taking that bus line again.

Hippie-fairyland lunch spot

Once in Sintra, we were immediately struck by its elegance and regal charm.  It is perched halfway down a sweeping and rippled slope, so that the buildings seem to roll across the landscape, allowing many vistas and hobbit holes.  We strolled aimlessly, walking off the nausea, and came across a lovely antique market full of items that would make Oakland hipsters swoon.  We came across a sign for a vegetarian lunch, so we descended the adjacent steps into a what seemed like a little hippie-fairyland: a beautiful garden-swaddled house converted into a restaurant, decorated with plants hanging upside down from the ceiling, a bathtub growing flowers, and seemingly every surface utilized as a canvas for creative expression.  The food was fresh, healthy and organic, and it more than calmed our disgruntled tummies.  

The bathroom in the restaurant

Sated and ready to explore, we headed up (and up and up) into the more bustling touristy area of Sintra, where narrow streets climbed and twisted like a labrynth leading into older times (or at least shops selling the past).  We wove through them for awhile, enjoying the bustle, before continuing up up up towards what we had chosen for our ultimate exploration of the day: a 1200-year old castle built by the Moors (aka "the Moops" for Seinfeld fans) after they had invaded from North Africa.

Up the winding streets

On our way to the castle, we passed a church with a dozen or more men dressed from head to toe in medieval-style armor, complete with chainmail, metal helmets, and swords.  Naturally we assumed that either they really get into the history around here or that we had not adequately prepared for the Moorish castle experience.  Reaching the castle we were relieved to learn that you only needed to pay 7euros to enter and didn't necessarily need to lay siege to gain access to to the spectacular views afforded by the ancient stone walls.  We had picked a perfect, clear day, (it can often be significantly colder, wetter, and overcast in Sintra than in Cascais despite being less than 20 miles apart) so we were lucky enough to revel in the crisp, autumnal ocean wind as we gazed out over lands that must have looked very different in the 9th century.  A great trip and a grand day... it had us thinking that perhaps we should consider moving up this way for the second year of our contract... although we would probably have to buy some armor.

Nice view... and the vista too. 

View of Palacio da Pena, another one of Sintra's regal palaces

Portugal Photo Journal - Part 2: First Lisbon Adventure with our First Visitor

You know how people say that "the world is a small place?"  Despite the fact that we had moved ourselves across a continent and ocean, somehow we were able to give credence to that phrase when we found out that our friend Anders would be coming to Portugal on business in mid/late September.

Correction: he wasn't just coming to Portugal; he was coming to a convention center that happened to be 1 mile away from our school at the foot of the Sintra hills.  What?!  Crazy good fortune, to be sure.

Lisbon Expedition Phase 1: Find Good Drink
I took the visit as opportunity to get out into Lisbon, which as of yet we'd only explored in a brief sleep-deprived stroll the morning we arrived from the States.  First destination: to find one of the creature comforts I have missed much more than I could have imagined: quality craft beer.  Based on research from a fellow connoisseur halfway around the world (thanks Joe), Anders and I decided to head to an alleged brewpub known as "Republica de Cerveja" in a far flung and modern area of Lisbon called the Oriente (it was developed for a relatively recent world expo, so it has the eerily pleasant feel of a manufactured landscape... clean, precise, and with a decidedly forced character).    We pieced together a train and metro route that would get us there, and headed on our way.  The Lisbon metro was fantastic: fast, clean, and efficient, and we were only propositioned with drugs once.*  We rode 3 trains from Cascais to the Oriente and had to wait a total of 3 minutes inbetween them, and it popped us out short walk from our destination, on a promenade next to the Tagus River.  Favorite part of the Lisbon metro:  signs that seemed to warn against getting crotched by the doors.   

*The drug propositioning was a strange juxtaposition... while I have felt much safer in Cascais and Lisbon than I often felt in my dear old Oakland (and even San Francisco) there are undoubtedly rough edges that you brush up against.  Four times during our trip in four very different parts of the city someone walked up to us and began listing a full menu of illicit drugs that they had for sale, in nearly the exact order each time.  Before leaving for Portugal I had read that many of these substances had been decriminalized by the state, but hadn't heard, smelled, or seen any evidence that this had any effect on the culture until this trip. 


Although our train navigation was a definitive success, Republica de Cerveja was a flop.  First of all, of the 6 varieties on the menu, they only actually had 2.  Second, the beer was remarkably similar to the rest of the mass-produced Portuguese barley drinks: thin, tinny, and without much of a flavor profile to speak of.  The search continues.  The finally dagger for any repeated journeys to this Republica was the food.  When we ordered the hamburgesa, we were expecting something more in line with what we would experience at a pub back home, i.e. a beef patty with sauce, fixings, and bun.  As you can see, that was not the way of it... all we could do was laugh when they delivered beef patties swimming in the bowls of watery sauce.  Admittedly, they were much better than first expected, and we devoured every bite before moving out to the next phase of our journey. 




Lisbon Expedition Phase 2: Find Anders' Old Pad
This wasn't Anders' first rodeo in Lisbon... as a strapping young lad he had spent a month here with his family as they did language training in preparation for a move to Mozambique (one of several countries colonized by the Portuguese not so long ago).   As such, we wanted to track down the place where he had lived to see if the owners were still running things.  We headed down to the center of things, wandering purposefully from the tree-lined "Avenida de Liberdad" up up up into the beatnik "Barrio Alto" district where he had once resided.  We were warned that although this area is one of the hippest and most exciting areas to eat and frolic, we should also be careful about being there after dark.  We made our way through beautiful narrow old streets, took in a picturesque vista, and did managed to find the place he had lived (but no luck on talking to the old owners... it seemed to now be some sort of hostel).

Lisbon Expedition Phase 3: See some other beautiful stuff. 
We figured we had made a good enough go of it, and so we could walk back to the Cais do Sodre train station with heads held high, declaring the day of exploration as a big old victory.  We rolled down out of the heights and unwittingly came to one of the main drags, known as the "Baixa" district.  We strolled through a hotbed of activity where street performers played beautiful Portuguese melodies, shops sold everything from the elegant to the gaudy, and families walked hand-in-hand people watching and enjoying each others company.  We came to a street where Lisbon's iconic old streetcars rolled past us, narrowly missing an exceptionally long line of people that seemed to be eagerly awaiting their turn to go into a sewer.  I learned later that this was one of the few or only times each year that they opened up tours into the ancient Roman underbelly of the city (As these things often work in places with a long history of development, new structures are often built right on top of the old... modern Lisbon is built on foundations that go back thousands of years, as are many areas of Europe).

All told, it was a fantastic way to spend a day with a good friend.  We were so lucky to have him visit, and look forward to many future visits for those that want to see this beautiful and interesting part of the world (or those that have business trips that just happen to take them to our doorstep)