From Porto to Barcelos
Arrived in Porto by train, and found our pensao easily. We never stay anywhere that doesn`t require climbing 4 floors. Found the market and picnic supplies. The olives, the sausage, the things we eat that we can´t identify. Ate lunch near a fountain on the main plaza near the place that SC stayed with Patti and George 30+ years ago. He was still able to walk unerringly to the previously visited street of hardware stores just a street away, where with admirable restraint he only bought one semi-heavy item.
Did take an English speaking of the Casa de Musica. This is a prize winning design, a giant tilted, irregular cube of glass, aluminum,concrete, and architectual chutzpah. The core is a 1,200 seat concert hall, accoustically perfect we are told. Some of the other features were less than perfect and required expensive revision (like the bar suspended 30 feet over the main lobby, with a clear glass floor). Ladies beware.
Much of our time was spent walking around looking at the huge murals of blue and white ceramic tiles (alejulos) depicting grand historic and religious scenes. We walked across the bridge to Nova de Gia where the Port Houses have their tasting rooms. Kopke summoned us, based on our educational evenings with Bryan and Madeleine, and we entered the world of Port tasting. How sweet it is. Too bad we are traveling with just backpacks but we managed to get around that. More later on the subject...
We had wonderful meals of grilled sardines, a Portuguese specialty, and a mixed grill of beef, pork and chicken along with a very forgettable bottle of Vihno Verde Tinto. Our best meal was at very small outdoor cafe on the river, situated under a line of huge old Plane trees near the Port Wine Museum. For 4 Euros each we had hake battered and fried in the lighest manner, and a coussolet(?) type treatment of pork. The wine was homemade vino verde and arrived in a bottle recylced with half the label scratched off - just like home! This was made by the Grandfather of the waiter, who described his village in the Minho. We are clearly headed that direction.
Random thought: don´t drink too much Vino Verde before trying to remove all the little bones from your grilled sardines.
We took the train to Barcelos because we had read that the biggest market in Portugal occurs there every Thursday. Our hotel room was on the main plaza with a balcony that overlooked the giant city parking lot. Hmmm. But at 3am we awoke to sounds of stakes being driven into the ground between the cobblestones, and steel booth structures being assembled. By 6am we were out taking pictures as the market unfolded around us. The flowers and fruits and live animals and birds went up for sale first, then later the clothes, furniture, hardware, pottery. This involved hundreds of vans and trucks in a precise and choreographed manner driving in, unloading and setting up stands. It was fascinating. By 9am we were exhausted from watching and after a coffe and pastry retreated to our room for a nap. We spent the day wandering and making small purchases. Bottom line: next trip here, arrive naked and just buy all your clothes in the market.
CT and SC
Did take an English speaking of the Casa de Musica. This is a prize winning design, a giant tilted, irregular cube of glass, aluminum,concrete, and architectual chutzpah. The core is a 1,200 seat concert hall, accoustically perfect we are told. Some of the other features were less than perfect and required expensive revision (like the bar suspended 30 feet over the main lobby, with a clear glass floor). Ladies beware.
Much of our time was spent walking around looking at the huge murals of blue and white ceramic tiles (alejulos) depicting grand historic and religious scenes. We walked across the bridge to Nova de Gia where the Port Houses have their tasting rooms. Kopke summoned us, based on our educational evenings with Bryan and Madeleine, and we entered the world of Port tasting. How sweet it is. Too bad we are traveling with just backpacks but we managed to get around that. More later on the subject...
We had wonderful meals of grilled sardines, a Portuguese specialty, and a mixed grill of beef, pork and chicken along with a very forgettable bottle of Vihno Verde Tinto. Our best meal was at very small outdoor cafe on the river, situated under a line of huge old Plane trees near the Port Wine Museum. For 4 Euros each we had hake battered and fried in the lighest manner, and a coussolet(?) type treatment of pork. The wine was homemade vino verde and arrived in a bottle recylced with half the label scratched off - just like home! This was made by the Grandfather of the waiter, who described his village in the Minho. We are clearly headed that direction.
Random thought: don´t drink too much Vino Verde before trying to remove all the little bones from your grilled sardines.
We took the train to Barcelos because we had read that the biggest market in Portugal occurs there every Thursday. Our hotel room was on the main plaza with a balcony that overlooked the giant city parking lot. Hmmm. But at 3am we awoke to sounds of stakes being driven into the ground between the cobblestones, and steel booth structures being assembled. By 6am we were out taking pictures as the market unfolded around us. The flowers and fruits and live animals and birds went up for sale first, then later the clothes, furniture, hardware, pottery. This involved hundreds of vans and trucks in a precise and choreographed manner driving in, unloading and setting up stands. It was fascinating. By 9am we were exhausted from watching and after a coffe and pastry retreated to our room for a nap. We spent the day wandering and making small purchases. Bottom line: next trip here, arrive naked and just buy all your clothes in the market.
CT and SC
posted by Axolotl at 10:29 AM
2 Comments:
what was forgettable about the vinho verde tinto?
Maybe it's because the vinho verde is just everywhere? It's as forgettable as water?
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