the ocean

Porto was a lot different from Lisbon, I think in part because it wasn't hit as badly by the 1755 earthquake. They rebuilt Lisbon on a squarer grid with more uniform designs, but Porto is still a jumble of twisted streets and stairs that you kind of always worry will end up being dead ends. 

The waterfront is really vibrant with lots of shops and restaurants, as well as this giant bridge. We walked across the bridge and back, as one always must.

More blue tile! This was in the train station, which also had trains. 

This is Clerigos Church and Tower, which are like, really old and stuff. I can't tell you how many times we walked into churches in Portugal and found out a mass was going on. At like, 3 PM on a Tuesday. So I guess it's a pretty devout country?

This sandwich is my religion now. It's called a Francesinha, and it has like six kinds of meet in it, with a thick coating of egg and cheese on top. Traditionally it is served with a defibrillator.

This ornate old church was kind of a like a holiness explosion. The saints seem so dynamic in 3D. Even though, let's face it, some of them are kind of lame.

They have a palace that was designed for the merchants in the area to do business and sue each other and such. I feel like Mitt Romney would have loved it here.

The palace has this cool Moorish-themed room, which is not cultural appropriation, because the Moors actually lived here. I mean, not in this room, but in the area.

This poor bookstore is now constantly mobbed because its ornate architecture reminds people of the Harry Potter series. But don't feel too sorry for them, because they do charge for entry now. All in the game, people. All in the game.

Pena Palace is the one highest up in the mountains, and for some reason they allow you to go scrambling over the castle walls freely. Liability laws must be different in Portugal

How did they know when they started building this palace back in 1854 to include a selfie balcony? I'm assuming there was time travel involved.

I mean, come on. It's just pretty. Though I imagine a nightmare to keep clean.

The Moorish Castle is a lot older, from the 8th Century, per Wikipedia. Apparently there was lots of interest in invading Portugal back then? I'm kind of glad we live in an era where invasions seem by comparison a bit less frequent.

Ian had a bit of a fall as we were climbing along these walls, and I had visions of an international incident. Thankfully, he was fine, and the consulate did not become involved.

This is the National Palace, because there were otherwise not enough palaces. The two conical towers turned out to be smokestacks for the kitchen. In case they were like making a brisket or something.

This was the best room at the National Palace. I think it was largely used to store their VHS collection.

Quinta de Regaleira and its extensive grounds were built later, in the early 1900s. It nearly became the site of a murder when we were stuck in the ticket line behind a group of "influencers" who made everyone wait for twenty minutes while they tried to convince the staff to let them in for free. 

So yeah, this is apparently becoming a travel blog. I've got a lot of content from Portugal! Let's start with some pictures from Lisbon.

Colored tiles are big in Portugal. Also in preschools, but these are a lot better. If we're being honest, your kids' artwork sucks.

We're back in our own house again for the first time in nine days and it feels amazing. I am super pumped to pee outside the presence of a bidet and eat a breakfast that doesn't offer olive loaf again. But it was a great trip, truly. Lisbon was sunny and stately and we were randomly offered drugs at least six times while walking down the street. Sintra was beautiful and quaint and so hilly that a tuk tuk ride ultimately seemed very plausible, if still potentially deadly. And Porto was cool and craggy and full of sandwiches covered with cheese and egg. I will have more to say about all of them in the future, I am sure, and not just because I rarely if ever have anything interesting to write about here. (But mostly.)

Of course, the reason for the trip was my friends' wedding, which was at a hotel that also happened to be a vineyard in the Douro wine valley. It was basically a series of Instagram perfect events, up to and including pink fluffy clouds at sunset and a private fireworks display. The hotel was run and owned by a salty older lady who kept bringing out food and barking commands at the staff in Portuguese, and I'm told a woman sometimes referred to as the Portuguese Oprah was staying there at the same time as us. It was admittedly a bit isolated at times; I had to go to the main lobby to ensure solid internet service and to a BP a mile and a half away to buy cigarettes and Red Bull for the assembled guests. But I think it was honestly good for me to be in a world without Facebook for a bit, and not just for the few hours this week it was down for everyone.

Taking a car ninety minutes each way to visit said winery is a whole other story; I did have some fear of being left for dead in a picturesque arbor somewhere. But I am not dead, so I guess it all worked out. Well, I'm somewhat dead; I'm hoping a good night's sleep will somewhat cure me. 

We made it to Lisbon. Barely. We had a five-hour layover in Toronto, where I got so bored I actually chose to do work, followed by a six-hour flight best characterized by the anti-mask shenanigans of one particularly drunk old man in a vest. I genuinely feared they might turn the plane back around, and I had no desire to attend my friend's Portuguese wedding remotely from Toronto. But we got through it, and did a full day of tourism on two hours of sleep and no shower.

Portugal is pretty, and they have lots of cool old castles and such. They don't always seem thrilled when you speak English (and I don't blame them) and they have an intense aversion to anything over a 20 Euro bill. We had to go to four different stores to get a 50 broken, while our mini-cab driver followed us disapprovingly. They also hide their bathrooms zealously and on some occasions even charge for the privilege. While I don't love to pay, I can't deny there is value there.

More to come. Maybe not until I get back, but we'll see. I have to rest my feet occasionally.