4. 25, 26, 27 March Obidos, Porto, Vila de Conde

25 March 2019

Drove from Lisbon to Porto yesterday. Short cab ride to the airport to pick up rental car then 180 miles north to Porto on stellar highways with almost no traffic. Very calm drive except for all the Audis blowing by us at Autobahn speeds. Well maintained Interstate type highways were almost empty and I was reminded of the almost unnecessary Interstate 91 which runs through northeast Vermont. One the way we stopped into Obidos, a “thoroughly charming” (as the guide book put it) town for a short walk and lunch.

Obidos is a very well preserved medieval village surrounded by the original wall from the 14^th century. Back in the day at least one king of Portugal was married there although nowhere in the town are there signs of extravagance. The area of the town is not much larger than a football field but I counted six churches with most of them out of commission and probably unnecessary since this town couldn’t have many residents other than those selling tourist tchotchkes. Narrow streets, white walls, orange tiled roofs, ancient fortifications and, of course, tourists. Jason and I broke off the downtown street and made our way to untraveled upper paths where there were some apartments and small houses in various states of occupancy, disrepair or rehabilitation. There were great views into the valley that Obidos sits over. One end of the upper street emptied back onto the main street where we found an old church that had been converted to a book store. Regardless of the language, I will browse any bookstore. In this one I found David McCullough and Phillip Roth titles in Portuguese. Phillip Roth is read in Portugal? Is it possible Portuguese have read “Portnoy’s Complaint”?

Had a bland lunch in Obidos and after a day in Porto, I’ll have to summarize our culinary experience here. Hits and misses.

Another two-and-a-half-hour drive to Porto with Jason at the wheel and me co-piloting with Google Maps. Jason had learned that ~30% of Portugal’s population live in the Lisbon area and I believe it since the three to four hours we’ve been on the road up to Porto has been very rural. Although Porto is Portugal’s second biggest city, we blew into town quick and easily.

Our Porto hotel, Pestana Palacio do Freixo, is on the banks Douru River and as fancy as it sounds. Maria, who designed and booked the entire trip, was expecting a river view but our rooms face the other way towards an enormous liquefied gas storage facility. Still, a very nice place with a staff that hello’s you and have a nice day’s you to death. One huge upside of this place is the pool which is big enough for Maria to get some laps in. As her husband of 52 years, I can attest to the improvement of Maria’s overall view of life that results from a swim. The day was a long schlep so we just hung out at the hotel and planned our next two days here in Porto.

March 26^th

Porto is one of those postcard-worthy dramatic European cities. The old city slopes up from the banks of the Douru River with palaces, churches, fine old buildings and occasional traffic-free streets. The architecture of old Porto is astounding. First thing this morning we took a short boat ride along the city’s energetic riverfront and then spent the day touring one area to the next and all were breathtaking. One odd head-shaking stop was a large new colorful storefront in which the only goods sold were cans of Sardines and a few other types of canned fish. I could not resist buying a can of sardines and a can of smoked trout. Maria, not much a fish eater and a hater of sardines, looked like she was going to gag.

Every corner we turned in Porto revealed another ancient vista which propelled us further into the old town. But by late afternoon we were spent and flagged down an aggressive cab driver who barreled us back to our hotel. Along the way, two ladies rightfully flipped our driver the bird since he’d almost killed them. Crazy cab drivers notwithstanding, if I had to pick between Lisbon and Porto, I’d pick Porto. I think we all were in agreement on this one. Porto is certainly one of my favorite European city stops – and that’s saying a lot since cities wear me down pretty quickly. I don’t know how people live vast worlds of concrete and granite.

If I had to pick a country for culinary delights, Portugal wouldn’t be my first pick – but it would not be last either. We’ve had a couple of great meals here, but also some humorous misfires. When we were checking out of our Lisbon hotel, the concierge told us Porto was his favorite city and I can see why. It’s amazing. He also recommended his favorite Porto restaurant, but on this one, his pick left us suspicious. He recommended “Francesinhas Al Forno da Baxia” because of their wonderful “Francesinhas” meals. A Francesinhas meal, at least at this restaurant, consists of a bit of every meat available in Portugal slipped between two pieces of what we think is deep fried bread. The whole contraption is then topped with melted cheese and then buried in and covered with a Poutine like gravy. All four of us ordered one version or the other of their Francesinhas but it turned out that one Francesinhas would have been enough for all four of us. Even then it might have been too much for a number of reasons.

The very weird thing about this culinary experience is that Maria booked reservations on-line and the only time available was a relatively early 6:30. When we arrived the 40 or 50 seat restaurant was completely empty. By 7:30 the restaurant was mobbed with the four of us and one other patron – seriously. I am not exaggerating.

27 March

After breakfast Jason drove us downtown and found a rare parking space along the banks of the Douru River under the Porto Douro, a very high bridge across the river to the southern side of Porto. From the river we took a funicular (elevator car) up to the second level of the bridge which has nice pedestrian walkway with fantastic views of the old city. Once over the bridge, we headed back down to the river bank on that side where multitudes go to taste the Douru region’s famous Port Wine, which is far too sweet for me. But the view across to the city was well worth the hike.

Since we wanted one look at the coast before we headed inland tomorrow, the concierge thought we should drive a bit up the coast and visit her home town of Matoshinos where we’d find beaches and great seafood. We probably didn’t communicate with her well since what we ended up finding was something akin to an industrial park near the ocean. But we soldered further up the coast to Vila do Conde, and nice seaside town with a beautiful coast, a non-touristed downtown and a wonderful sandwich shop that hit all the right notes. Laurie took good care of herself at lunch by ordering a huge chocolate crepe. It was a serious chocolate crepe but Laurie is a serious chocoholic.

Almost never made it back to our hotel when both Jason’s and my GPS would not wake up. We might have found our way anyway, but it would have been tough. After ten minutes back on the road, the GPS’s woke up and we arrived back in Porto alive.

Fellow traveler Jason, whose last name is Lamanna, always assumed he had Italian heritage even though his father was adopted into the Lamanna clan. He and Laurie had one of those DNA tests recently and he found out he has no Italian genes whatsoever. He had been in a funk about this but now that he’s in Portugal, he’s pleased to advertise his newly discovered Iberian background which did show up in his DNA screen.

A word about dinner napkins in Portugal. They are maybe four square inches, which is the size of a few postage stamps. They are abrasive and non-absorbent. Wax paper might be a better choice. We have been laughing at them the whole trip.

Tonight we had our best meal on the trip. The Riberia was down on the waterfront and was just top notch. Grouper, Tiger Prawns the size of right whales and salted cod along with some delicious seafood soup. We struck up a conversation with the two young American couples next to us and it turns out one couple had just arrived from Oregon and were visiting the other couple who now live in Porto. He’s a professional basketball player for Porto and his wife played basketball for UC Santa Barbara. I blew his mind when I told him I went to high school with Kareem Abdul Jabbar.

After dinner we strolled the waterfront and it was beautifully lit up on both sides. Maria and I almost never go out at night so this was a reminder of what we miss with our hermetic life.