Monday and a Davidson Forced March through Porto

Dear Reader,  we are now ready to depart from Mira for a couple of days and explore the beauty of the more northern climes of Portugal.  I woke early this morning, and headed off on my regular morning walk in the woods near Mira.  I walked a total of 5km before breakfast,  and when I returned, Becky was up and ready to meet the day.  We ate the regular wonderful breakfast that is always ready here in Mira of cheeses, olives, sausages, and all manner of fruit, accompanied by the most wonderful aromatic coffee you could imagine.  After breakfast,  since out laundry was still on the line from the last night, and there was a heavy mist in the air,  we packed a small overnight bag from what we had left in the luggage,  and my friends at Mira said that they would bring in our laundry once it was dry.

After quick goodbyes,  and more directions on things that we absolutely MUST SEE while we are in Porto region,  we headed off on the highway north of Mira toward the river Douro and the region where Port wine has traditionally been produced.  Ny friend Silverio once again cautions me not to but from the cellars that I will find there,  as his friend knows the producers well, and when I know which ones I really like,  he will get it for me for far less than that charge tourists.  He says, go to the cellars.  Taste all the varieties,  but DO NOT BUY!!!

Leaving the beautiful friendly village of Mira

The GPS leads us to Porto

On the A20 North coming in to Porto

After about a one hour drive,  we found ourselves in Porto.  The Hotel was not exactly what I thought I had booked.  It was not a Hotel,  but rather a Hostel.  The room was nothing more than four bare was and a bed.  The man at the front desk was extremely grumpy, and had all the personality of a wet dish rag.  Still,  we were in this beautiful and historic city of Europe, the price was extremely good, even if the amenities were non-existent.  We would only be staying here for one night,  and it was clean, and the bed comfortable.  There are far worse ways to explore the world.

Once we had settled our things in the very small room, we headed off on the walking tour I had charted through the city.  About a kilometre from our hostel, there was a very famous cafe that Trip Advisor swore that no trip to Porto was complete without visiting.  Once we walked there, it was obvious for two reasons.  First,  there was a long line of people waiting to get in,  and second,  the architecture of this magnificent old place was so beautiful,  that one simply had to get inside to see the rest of it.

Awaiting a table at the Cafe Majestic

Looking through the amazing Cafe Menu

a little view of the incredible decor

Enjoying cappucino.

We waited for about 20 minutes to get a table,  and finally were seated. The young woman who served us was incredibly personable, and she spoke several languages, and spoke all of them VERY well.  She quickly arrived with both water and cappuccino,  and also brought a plate of tuna paté, virgin olive oil, and black olives.  Having to pass on the bread meant also having to miss out on the olive oil and tuna,  but the olives -- a guilty pleasure of mine -- were outstanding.

Lunch consisted of a sandwich for becky and a Omelette Zingara for myself.  Service was fast and very friendly,  and we were soon enjoying the fabulous food as well as the beautiful ambience.

A cup of cappucino

Beautiful and plentiful breads ... I only wish I could have tried them

My delicious omelette filled with cheese and pancetta Bacon and topped with mushrooms.

After the Majestic, we headed off in search of Livraria Lello.  This beautiful book store on the university campus was noted for the beautiful painted ceilings.  When we arrived there there was a two hour wait to get inside, and so we opted for a picture outside and carried on with our walk.

Livrario Lello 

Se Catedral

Looking down the busy crowded streets of Porto

Walking streets 

Ponto do Dom Luis

Along the river Douro in prime Port wine producing territory

After the Livrario, we were off to the nearby Cathedral of Porto.  unfortunately,  the Catehdral was closed to visitors on a Monday, as was the Clerigos Tower,  but it was still a magnificent and impressive building from the outside.

Next stop was at the Railway station.  Once again,  this station housed the traditional blue mosaics that tell the story of the people of Portugal.

Blue mosaics tell the stories of the people

More Mosaics

More Mosaics still.

When we had left the railway station it was further downhill to the river Douro.  There,  we came out next to the Ponto Do Dom Luis.  This bridge, as you can likely tell by the looks of it, was designed by the Eiffel, and looks very much like his tower in Paris.  At the time that it was built, it was the longest span of bridge in the world,  and had two levels to cross the river. The top one carries the city trams, while the lower one was for the car and foot traffic.  The bridge was filled with people walking and cars were bumper to bumper, but the slow walk was worth every bit of effort, as the are of the Douro on the opposite side was where all the Port wine cellars were located.  Becky and I availed ourselves of the opportunity to tour the Burmester Cellar.  In the interests of time,  we took the tour in Spanish, and i translated to becky after each segment of the tour as we walked to the next stop along the way.  We were well and truly educated in the science and the art of making beautiful Port,  and then taken to a tasting room where we got the chance to try several varieties.

Entering the very old Burmester Cellar

Tasting Ports

 My first hope was that since Becky has never been a big fan of sweet wines,  I might get to finish off the samples that she was given,  it seems that for better of worse does not go so far as "for sharing your Porto with your husband."

Leaving the Port region behind,  we once again crossed over the Dom Luis Bridge,  but now,  on the bank of the river, we had come down hundreds of metres from where our Hotel was situated in the city.  Neither Becky nor I was terribly excited with the prospects of climbing back up that distance after our long walking tour,  and so for 2.50 Euros,  we got into a Funicular that took us up from the river level to about half the level of where we would get back to our Hotel.  Once there,  we found a lovely place to enjoy a good yet inexpensive dinner.  We both enjoyed a steak with salad and the most delicious rice we had ever tasted.

On the Funicular riding back up the cliff away from the port Cellar region of Porto

Our wonderful steak dinner on the cliff overlooking the Douro river in Porto, Portugal

As we waited for our dinner to be brought to our table, I visited a little stand that offered the usual Vinho Tinto that has become such a part of eating and socializing here.  I inquired of the young woman about the various types of Red wine she had, and she informed me that it was currently happy hour,  and that until 7:30 when you bought one glass of a select group of wines for 2.50,  you got a second glass from the same bottle for free.  Of course that was good news after several hours of walking the very tough hilly terrain of this worm dry city.  I bought the original two glasses, and at about the time our dinner arrived, had to go and get another pair to enjoy with the meal.  So, it seems is life in Portugal.

This lovely young lady pours us the second glass of Vinho Tinto

Dinner was huge and there was no reason that we needed anything extra, and yet the same little place offered fresh homemade gelato, and that was more temptation than I could really stand.  I have often said, " I can resist anything except temptation."  We soon had a small dish each of beautiful gelato.  I had Port wine and fresh mint,  while Becky had to try the dark chocolate.  Having eaten my own, and sampled hers,  I would be hard pressed to say which one was better.  they were both delicious.

Port Wine and Mint Gelato

What remains of dark chocolate Gelato

With that extra fortification from our gelato, and with our rest sitting looking down the funicular tracks to the Douro river,  we were ready to walk the last 2km back to our austere place at the Residencia Bela Star Hostel.  Never did a bed look more inviting in all my experience.

Having said this,  I have not been in that lovely bed while I have written you this chronicle of a beautiful Monday in Porto, dear reader,  as the only place where one can catch the wifi signal in this lovely room,  is if one is sitting on the floor directly next to the wall by the entrance to our room, and so I have opted to go to the lobby to bring you all up to date on our adventures in Porto.

Tomorrow we will venture further north to explore Braga before returning to the home of dear Silverio and Lourdes.  Stay tuned tomorrow... who knows what might be ahead.

A quiet Sunday with friends, food and wine

It has been a quiet day today for the most part.  At Lunchtime, João and his wife came over and we enjoyed an extraordinary barbecued lunch.  Silverio cooked some beautifully seasoned pork chops over an open fire.  On the fire in the summer kitchen, Lourdes cooked some small new potatoes to create patates mourden. , which literally means punched potatoes.  This is because the potatoes when cooked are then hit to burst them open.  They are then laid in a dish and layered with fresh diced onions, garlic, parsley, salt and pepper and then sprinkled with red wine vinegar and beautiful fresh olive oil.  We also had fresh beans from the garden that were also dressed with red wine vinegar and olive oil.  It was an amazing dinner. Becky was not feeling very well, and so she skipped this fantatic meal.  João and Lourdes were very worried about her,  and so João prescribed that she needed green tea.  Lourdes made he a special green tea from the tea that grows in her garden, with zest from a lemon which also came from the garden.

After lunch, the festival began at the parish of São Tome across the street.  This is a feast that is held each year to celebrate the immigrants that come to Portugal and enrich the culture.  Brazilian dancers came to add their gifts, and traditional Portuguese music and dancing followed with the whole village joining in the fun.  When my friend João arrived, he insisted that Silverio’s Vinho Verde was not good enough and so he insisted that I follow him to the café across the block where he could get me a glass of his favourite. 

Upon our return,  it was time to head out for dinner.   My wife and I, Silverio and Lourdes, João and Maria, and David headed to a local restaurant for some very traditional dishes.  David is another neighbour, who moved here to live with his daughter.  Shortly after he arrived, she converted to the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and when he refused to join the Jehovah’s Witnesses with her,  she kicked him out on the street.  He is another good friend of Silverio and João, and so they try to make certain that he is all right. 

For dinner, I thoroughly enjoyed a dish of lamb and potatoes.  Becky and the other ladies had stone soup – which is very similar to Feijuada, and João, Silverio, and David had a dish made from white beans and a cow’s stomach.

As dinner began to wrap up, the men at our table began to sing a bunch of traditional Portuguese folk songs.  It wasn’t long before people throughout the restaurant had stopped what they were doing and were singing along.  We paid our tab eventually and headed for home, but as Becky and I were commenting on hwo incredibly full we were, Silverio said, we are going back to our house to eat shrimp and to sing more songs.

When we arrived to the house, the festival was still going on,  so the guys went to do a little dancing,  which gave Becky and I a chance for a few minutes, to recover from the huge meal before everyone came round and the food and the wine came out again.  It was a joyful evening with song and laughter.

What I will remember most about the time in this home in Mira is that there was always a lot of fun, food, wine and fellowship.

Friday Night and Saturday: Aguedo, Praia de Mira and Mass

Dear readers, I have gotten so immersed in the actual stuff of exploring this amazing land, that I have fallen woefully behind in my chronicles of this travel.  I have just come back from my Sunday morning walk in the forest.  My Fitbit says that I walked 6000 steps on this foray into the beautiful wilds of Mira.  Each day I venture a little further.  As I sit to write this morning, I am sitting beneath an umbrella in Silverio’s garden.  It is breakfast time, and a steaming cup of coffee is at my left hand.  Surrounding me on the table are the standards things that are always there in the morning.  There are fresh strawberries, fresh figs,  Big pieces of various cheeses, various sausages, olives—both green and ripe -- , and cold boiled eggs.  I hardly know what I will do when I return to my regular life, and breakfast consists of a dish of yoghurt and a coffee.  I guess what I will do is sit and fondly remember my days in Mira.

I guess where I left you; we had just finished at the Mercado in Portomar.  I had come home with even more cheeses and sausages that there already were in the house.  As well, I had bought little things for the children of the family that we had to leave home from this adventure. Before I return home, I know that I must also buy a gallon of pure virgin olive oil from the locals for my cooking, and a flask of Eucalyptus honey.  I am sure it will be incredibly healthy to have a spoonful all winter to fight off colds.  We came home to a lunch of roasted chicken and rice, which was incredible, and then, while Lourdes went with her daughter Maria to Coimbra to shop for her grandchildren in Canada, Silverio came with Becky and I to guide us through a visit to Aguedo.

The heat of the direct sun that beams down on them often overwhelms this lovely city.  Their answer to that is both beautiful and effective.  Above the streets, there hang hundreds of colorful umbrellas, which not only offer a very much-needed shade, but also give the entire town a look of joy.  All the benches along the narrow walking streets are painted in festive rainbow motifs, and local artisans have also decorated stairwells that run to either side.  When we arrived, we found parking close by, and began out walk.  Silverio said that we should stop and rest from the road at a local pub.  It felt great to get in out of the scorching sun,  and once again the wine bottle arrived,  and we enjoyed a glass of rich red wine.  The proprietor also came out with a big plate of mixed olives.  As inexpensive as olives are here,  the plate of olives cost more than the three glasses of red wine.

Refreshed and ready, we headed out to explore the city. It was a beautiful day of walking, as the pictures will bear testament.  Our last stop was in a beautiful little church.

After exploring, we began our journey home to Mira.  While we were in Aguedo we heard the sirens blaring calling the firemen of Aguedo to help with the forest fires which were then coming quite close to that city.  On the way home we saw the huge plume of smoke rising.  These fires are doing terrible damage here.  Silverio had to get all the dry weeds and dead fall wood removed from his properties to try to hold the spread of these fires in check.

On the way home, we stopped once again at João’s home.  As we have come to expect, our arrival meant that João would immediately pull out all manner of cheese and sausage and bottles of wine.  Becky asked João’s wife about her family, and her incredible pride in them shone through pretty quickly.  She ran and got books of pictures of the baptisms of children and grandchildren, and we were immersed in the story of her family.  We are already treated like we are a part of that family.

Upon arrival back in Mira, Silverio laid out his usual late-afternoon snack of cheeses and sausages.  And just when we were well and truly fed, Lourdes laid out dinner from the leftover chicken.  Tired and over fed, Becky simply felt that she could not face another meal.  She made her apologies and went up to bed to read.  For myself,  I managed to find a little space for food.  I fear I may return from Portugal having gained back some of the weight that I worked hard to lose. 

After eating, Silverio and I sat over a bottle of Vinho Tinto and discussed Theology and the life of the church.  Finally, I simply had to turn in.

The Saturday walk was 5000 steps of glorious exploration with stops along the way to pick the wild black raspberries that bring back so many great memories of my early years on the farm in Tilbury.

When Becky was up and had breakfast we sat and talked with Silverio and Lourdes until lunch.  After lunch,  -- a soup Lourdes made called Caldo dos Laboradores or farmer’s soup (a soup made by throwing together everything that you find in your garden that day) and a couple bottles of wine, we took Becky to Praia de Mira and helped her to set up in a perfect place on the beach.  After this, Silverio and I went to the local Nursing home where we did some Pastoral Visiting. We stopped to see João’s mother who is 94 and failing very quickly.  We also paid a visit to Lourdes’ aunt.  Along the way we were drawn in to many conversations with others who lived in that home. 

With our visits complete, we went back to the house to collect the cooler, and went and joined Becky at the beach.  The sand was very hot, but the Atlantic was still quite cold.  Both Becky and I ventured into the ocean for a short time, but the temperature soon changed our minds. 

After a little walk in the sand, Silverio opened up the treasures that he had packed in the cooler.  Lourdes had prepared Lupin beans, which are wonderful lightly salted, soaked beans.  There was a huge bag of peanuts in the shell, and prepared fruits.  Of course chilled to perfection in the bottom of the cooler there were a couple bottles of Vinho Verde.  When this “afternoon snack was dispatched, we packed up to return to the village and get ready to go to Mass.

The church is a beautiful modern church.  The clergy are very informal, and while they do wear alb and stole to celebrate, they only wear clerical collars on principal feast days.  The music of the Eucharist was lovely and well-sung. The preacher delivered a very strong but short homily.  Silverio – himself an Anglican Deacon – had informed the Rector of the parish that I was Anglican, and the Dean of St. George’s Cathedral in Kingston.  Usually this would have meant that I would be excluded from receiving the Eucharist, but the Rector of this parish insisted that I must come and join in the meal with everyone else.  Having been barred in many Roman Catholic Churches in my lifetime, this was an amazing sense of hospitality.

Following church we returned home to have a great dinner of the leftover farmer’s soup and a couple bottles of wine, it was off to bed.

This morning, my fitbit, as I said previously says that I have accomplished 6000 steps before this fabulous breakfast.  The plan for today is that Becky and I will do our laundry so that we can pack to go for a couple days to Porto for more explorations.  In the evening,  we are meeting with a few of Silverio’s friends at a local restaurant for a very traditional Portuguese dinner.  Through the day, there is a special celebration at the Igreja de São Tome across the street from us, which celebrates all the immigrants who come here.  They are barbecuing a pig, and there will be music and dancing in the streets.  It reminds me so much of the life I shared with the people of South America during my sabbatical, and with the Colombian congregation back in Kitchener, where every gathering somehow devolved into someone beginning to play music, and people dancing.  I expect this will be a quiet peaceful day for the most part.

When I returned from my walk, Lourdes had one new thing that she wanted me to try.  A year ago she started making a Liqor.  She filled jars with all the fruit from the garden that has a stone in it.  (Plums, cherries, peaches) These were then covered with white wine and sugar and placed in a nice cool dark place.  Lourdes had forgotten have made this, and today she opened it for the first time, and it was absolutely fabulous.  When I return to Canada I can see a recipe of this Liqor being started at Camden East.