Passing Through My Memories

A little grocery store near my house

Best Little Pastry shop in Antas

Today was a day to visit various places in Porto that were an integral part of my life some 23 years ago.  Some have changed drastically, others are exactly as they were.  I will let the pictures speak for themselves and to those who will recognize them.

Be sure to check out all the photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/jroberts.px/Europe201002#

Portuguese Fast Food - Bifanas, Pork Sandes & Chicken

Many a Package Sent home in the Mail

The road back home

The Dom Luis I bridge at Night

The Caldas Clan

Back: Carla, Claudia, Cio, Vanessa / /Front: Mario, Gloria

After returning from the market with our various sundries, we had a nice lunch of cheese, salpicao, chourico, and broa bread.  I was able to spend the rest of the afternoon and evening at my in-laws home getting up-to-date on all the latest happenings here in the neighborhood, in the city and the country.  At the end of the night we finally got everyone together for some family photos.,

The Rooster Crowed at Midnight in Barcelos

Thursday morning can only mean one thing - the Barcelos Market.  We got up early and headed to my in-laws house to pick-up my father-in-law to go with us to Barcelos. My wife has a "slight" preoccupation with driving and would make an excellent driving instructor, as she continually comments on everything surrounding the car and how I should drive.  I could probably drive blind-folded with her, since she tells me where every other car is on the road, to continually slow down, when I'm breaking the law, or on the wrong side of the road.  Since she's my wife, I keep my mouth shut and only say "Yes, dear." every now and again.  But today was different, Claudia was in the back seat and her father in the front with me.  Every time she would start to complain, her father would tell her to shut up and that I was driving perfectly well.  Ah, the wisdom of a father, telling his little girl that which a husband dare not say.

We got to Barcelos in the late morning and even had the fortune of finding an open parking spot near the market.  This is one of the largest markets in the area and you can find practically everything here.  The obvious fruits and vegetables, but also clothing, furniture, cookware, farm implements, plants and seeds, and small chicks for raising your own chickens.  Kind of like an Ikea before they moved into a large blue building.

Of the course the crowning glory of this market is right in the center where they sell the Barcelos Roosters, a symbol of the country that has been tacked onto anything possible.  Besides the statues, you can also get key chains, cork screws, napkin holders, toothpick holders, wine corks, fridge magnets, etc, etc, etc.  Since I went there more for the experience of the market, we ended up getting just some of the basics offered there - fruits, broa bread, salpicao sausages and regional cheeses.  What a lunch we'll have today.

Be sure to check out all our photos at http://picasaweb.google.com/jroberts.px/Europe201002#

An Unexpected Reunion

My wife spent the afternoon with her mother, and I decided to venture out on my own.  Now, it has been 3 years since I last drove these roads, so I was a little anxious about navigating on my own.  Fortunately, I only got caught in one rotunda as I missed my exit and had to make another go around.  I visited a local mall to have lunch and see what new stores had opened.  I ended up in the local bookstore where I found a good book by Jose Saramago (the Portuguese Nobel Prize winner who passed away this past year).  I also found a book on the calao (slang) of Porto.  Perhaps now I can understand my wife better.  To finish the day, I wanted to go to the Continente super market, kind of like a Super Walmart here.  An odd thing they do here is lock all the shopping carts together and then you have to put a 50 cent coin in the lock to separate the cart from the others, but you get the coin back when you are finished shopping and put the cart back with the others.  While I was trying to figure out this complicated system, I suddenly heard someone calling my name from above.  I looked up to see a young woman with a little girl coming down the escalator.  She said, "Jeff, is that you?" and I said "Yes, it's me" while thinking to myself "who in the world is this".  It took few seconds, but I finally placed the face as that of my friend Catarina Morais, who I had last seen in Porto in 2003.  Since that time she had married and had a little girl.  What a surprise and a pleasure to see her again and make that small connection.

I continued on inside of the Continente where large signs proclaim it is illegal to take pictures or video.  I have never understood this signs here in many markets and malls.  What are they afraid of?  And this was even before 9/11, so I can't believe it is a terrorist thing.  Others have suggested it is so that someone can't copy the design of products or how they are displayed.  But I threw caution to the wind, and figured if anyone asked I could say I was making a phone call.  Besides, the layout of products and variety in these stores is a unique experience that you don't see in the states.  Open areas of the super market, full of salted fish, stand ready to assault your nostrils.  The choices of fresh cut meats, hams and cheeses seems endless.  And the bakery offers no less than small plethora of breads and pastries to which the States can hold no candle.

A Visit to the Ribeira

Wednesday morning we got up early and decided to visit the Ribeira, the area right on the river front of Porto.  This is the place for that picture perfect post card photo - the famouse double-decker bridge of Porto.  We started down towards the river, where an area of small apartments rise up off the water front, clinging to walls of the river valley.  Narrow winding streets shoot off from the main walkways into a series of back alley mazes.  Upon arriving at the water front, we were immediately assaulted in english by a boat captain selling cruises under the six great bridges that cross the Rio Douro in this zone.

Instead, we took the opportunity to fully consume this cornucopia of sites, smells and sounds that is Porto, sitting at a small river front cafe and watching this mesmerizing scene flow before us.

We visited some of the many small shops selling to tourists, but the best experience by far was an Olive and Wine shop that we entered.  What a marvelous experience, to enter this small shop and be overpowered by the strong aroma of brining olives, olive oil, wines and cork.

All I could think was a picture can do this no justice.  How can I record the smells that so strongly define such a wonderful part of this culture.  We passed some time in that shop speaking with the proprieter, sampling the olives and tremocos, and perusing the hundreds of wine bottles along the walls from many past decades.

A Great Gastronomic Tradition

We spent the day trying to get everything in place at the house, seeing what needed to be cleaned and arranged at home.  We ventured out to the local markets to get the essentials and "matar as saudades" of the city (alleviate our homesickness).  That night culminated in the great gastronomic tradition of Frango Assado and Batatas Fritas (roast chicken and french fries).  What a meal, we had two chickens, one regular and one spicy.  I don't know why no one can copy this chicken in the states, probably because there is too much KFC.  It was topped off with a Sumo de Laranja to drink and a Bolo de Bolacha e Chocolat for dessert.  This is the kind of experience one can only have in Portugal.

From the Porto Airport to Our Home in Canelas

Since we learned our lesson about trying to get from the airport to our destination via subway while carrying 3-4 suitcases, we took a different route in Porto.  We arrived to rain and overcast skies and called my wife's uncle who works near the airport, who took a short break to meet us and put our suitcases in his car.  He then returned to work, and we planned to get our luggage from him later in the day after we had our rental car.  We were then able to get on the Porto metro right at the airport and take it all the way into the city at Campanha where we had reserved our rental car.  Unlike my previous post, I would highly recommend Interrent for car rental.  We have used them for the last few years, and there is no where else you can get a rental car for such an economical price (we're talking less than $10 per day).

We headed for our house in the Canelas area of VN de Gaia, and finally got to our home.  We had to start up the electricity, water and gas, since the house had been closed up for nearly 10 months.  We stopped by a little cafe just down from our house where I got to have my first taste of home, a Francesinha com Ovo - Beef, ham, sausage and cheese, between two slices of bread, covered with a exquisite Portuguese sauce and topped with a fried egg.  I was in heaven.  The aromas from that little cafe, along with the continual rain outside, brought many memories rushing back to my mind of my first days in Portugal more than 20 years ago.

Beware of Little Jets in Sheeps Clothing

Today we got up early to leave for the airport for our morning flight to Porto.  We had reserved a Taxi for 6:00am and surprisingly enough he showed up 5 minutes early.  I was in the front seat while Claudia was in the back, with her eyes closed and head down, hoping that we didn't get in an accident as the driver weaved in and out of traffic like a Rally driver going for the gold.

We checked in our luggage at the counter, but that's where the little difficulties began.  I had scheduled one suitcase for myself and two for my wife, for I had understood that EasyJet would allow 20kg per bag when I purchased tickets at their website.

Turns out it is 20kg total, regardless of the bag count, even though they charge you extra for each bag.  They wanted to charge an outrageous fee for each kilo over 20, so I asked if I could purchase a second ticket, so that I could have two seats for me, and then I would put the second suitcase on that ticket.  Nope, once again in their warped system, it was 20kg max per person, not per ticket.  So even though I could have purchased 5 tickets for me, I could still only bring a max of 20kg with me.  So beware gent, the quicky flights in Europe for EasyJet and RyanAir, that advertise for $20 between cities quickly add on lots of fees to make their profits.  You end up paying extra for each suitcase, if you check in at the airport, if you use a credit card, if you want a drink on board, and now even if you want to use the restroom on board.  Take my advice, don't go with the discount airlines, they ain't discountin' nothin'.

Adventures on a Paris Subway

We finished our stay in the Pigalle area by having lunch at an outside cafe, ham and cheese omelets with french fries (but here they just call them fries).  I had heard that it would cost more to eat in the open air in front of a cafe, but so far I have seen no difference in price no matter where we sit.  The other nice thing is that you don't have to worry about tipping here, since it is not common.  But the pricing is weird, since some things are the exact price shown, and others have a tax added.

Speaking of which, how they hell did I get over 20 euros worth of change in my pocket already.  Not only do they have 1 and 2 euro coins, they also have 50, 20, 10, 5, 2 and 1 cent coins as well.  And even though they have 5 and 10 euro bills, they love to pay you change in all coins.  I feel like I'm carrying around an extra 5 pounds in my pockets because of all the coins.

We got back on the metro at Pigalle to head for home, and I used some of my coins to pay for the tickets.  However, it took me nearly 5 minutes to feed all the individual coins into the ticket machine and I kind of held up the line of people wanting to get home.  Unfortunately, in the rush to try and get to metro after the ticket delay, I hadn't notice that two different subway lines crossed paths at this stop - one running East and West, the other running North and South.  I knew where we didn't want to go, so I followed the other sign and it took us to another line.  It wasn't until we were already on the subway and riding to the next stop that I realized we were on the wrong line.  At this point, the "rats caught in a maze" experience began.

First we had to get off at the next stop, then we had to find out how to get to the other side of the platform.  We took that subway back to the Pigalle stop, then we had to get off again and find the other level with the correct subway that would take us back to our apartment.  This was quite the journey as you have to cross up and over the tracks and then back down to the platform on the right side.

We finally got to the right side and the right subway and started our trip back to the apartment.  We survived the trip on our own, didn't have too many problems, and I bought a really nice hat at a little souvenir shop in Pigalle.  Now we have to pack up everything and be ready to leave at 6:00 in the morning for our flight to Porto.  We're almost home to Portugal.

Pigalle (Pig Alley), Paris - A Real Classy Neighborhood

Since we didn't have our bus passes today, we decided to be brave and try out more of the metro system to go visit some other areas of the city.  We decided to visit the seedier underside of the city near the Moulin Rouge, known as Pigalle (or Pig Alley as the WWII American soldiers called it).  I guess it is sort of a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah on the north side of Paris.

However, they also try to keep it classy by putting a Museum of Erotica in the center of all this unabashed publicity.  It had a red velvet rope entry, they charged money for entrance, and it covered seven floors worth of display.  However, unlike the many other museums we passed here in Paris, this one did not have any line to get in.

Another odd thing to note is how many small restaurants, souvenir shops, pastry and cafes are right next door to these assorted businesses, since the area covers quite a few blocks and the number sex shops probably outnumber them 2 to 1.  I guess the curious tourists have to eat as well.  Even funnier was the Super Market (Super Marche) that we passed, but it wasn't a food market.