Portugal

So, I get to Coimbra, one of the oldest university towns in Europe and follow my hand drawn map to get to the hostel. I should have used a topographical map because I decided to just head straight through the town, past the university and head left. It turns out that straight ahead is also straight up. So I climbed a mountain and headed back down carried my 50lb pack on my back.

I’ve been in Portugal since Monday. Spent most of that time in Porto, a beautiful city in the North where, yes, they make Port wine. Place literally looks like people still live like they did 100 years ago. There is laundry hanging between the alleys and stray dogs.

The Portuguese are super friendly and nice, at least the ones who speak English. The food is great; lots of seafood and crazy meat dishes. They do have a special affinity toward bachalau which is salted cod; they put it in everything. Also, they have great coffee. They have the late night habits of the Spanish, which has always suited me as well. They seem to really like the lottery. Not sure what that means. Their churches are very dark in their imagery, a lot of blood and violence. A few cathedrals literally had bodies of Jesus after he came off the cross, not a statue but a life-like mannequin.

I walk around a bit and head back to the hostel to take a siesta. I had an early flight; they are not yet officially part of my routine. I wake up to Rob, some slow Aussie. He is cool and we make some plans to make dinner and get drinks. We also meet two American and British girls. The American from LA has this guy from home semi-stalking her around Europe. He, however, is very LA and only stays at nice hotels and wants to eat at the best restaurants. She is not into it. We get drinks, but nothing too crazy.

Next day we go sightseeing and Port tasting. I had like 10 glasses of port after never having had more than like 2 in my life. They were good, but after a while, I couldn’t get the taste of port out of my mouth. There was this syrupy aftertaste that wouldn’t leave. Pretty buzzed, we head back to the hostel and I make dinner again (getting good at curry) and more wine. We went out to some club where the average age seemed to be about 16. Pretty fun.

Irakerre - Bacalao can Pan (I know its Spanish not Portuguese, but I couldn't help it, they eat Bachalau all day here)