Date: Apr 13, 2010
And now for our laugh of the day
There are about 75 emails on the list to which these little ditties get sent, and I send them in groups of 25 or so since Hotmail limits the number of recipients at any one time, and I’ve had problems where some servers just see them as junk mail (which they may well be, anyway) and bounce the letters. So I have multiple “Sends” for each posting. What with the glass of cherry liqueur, the port, and god knows what else I’ve imbibed, mistakes happen. The letter “Grapa Revisited” is a prime example. One grouping went out empty. Nothing in the text area, just a list of names in the TO: box and the subject area filled in. Now please, I’m not fishing for compliments here. Many of you have been quite generous in letting me know that you appreciate receiving them, and I’ve always said that I write these for myself. These are my journals and if anybody else likes them, that’s great, but the letter went out and nobody wrote to tell me until last night when I got an email from my son who informed me of it. Who knows, maybe that was the most interesting of the bunch--)
I really had to laugh. Talk about the deflated balloon. It was definitely my humility lesson for the day. To top it all off, I'm having problems with this server, so I'm not sure if you will receive this one twice. Ah the joys of the cyber world. Oops. Excuse me, that was me tripping over my ego.
Our time in Porto was really quite nice. One section of the city down by the river is a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Filled with narrow alley ways which wind and weave their way always down to the river, the area is a microcosm of old Portugal. Little boys play soccer in the streets and yell at pedestrians to stop their ball from heading to the river when it gets away from them. Laundry hangs from the balconies, and neighbors gossip and chat across the balconies where their families have probably lived for generations. Old men sit in chairs by the doorsteps with little to say to anybody, much less to visitors who pass in and out of their lives as quickly as the little boys soccer balls heads inexorably downhill. But even in these narrow streets there are the requisite pastry shops, the coffee bars, not to mention the bars themselves.
We passed through the area several times as we explored the city, but we were told not to go to the area at night, and while we have a tendency to view such advice with skepticism, it seemed like it would be a good idea to heed it in this case. On several corners were groups of men, looking like they had been on the short side of law on many occasions. Drugs were exchanged and purchased openly and thuggish-looking individuals stood watch at the juncture of several alleys. I heard some music coming from a bar and stuck my head inside to see if it was live and there were several obvious prostitutes sitting at the bar waiting for clients. We never felt threatened nor uneasy, but caution and common sense seemed to be the order of the day and we avoided it after dark.
This morning we got up and were on the road before nine. We worked our way towards the Douro Valley where the actual vineyards are for the Port wine Distributors we visited in Porto. It’s a beautiful area, and the Douro itself very picturesque. Guess what, they also have vineyard tours with…. Ta Da, free tastings, but that’s for tomorrow.
We purchased food for our picnic. Bread, cheese, some chorizo, fruit and juice made for a nice lunch. I didn’t have any mustard, and Carol informed me that we were “Roughing it.” Certainly any lunch without that stately condiment is roughing it in my estimation. The roads were narrow, surprise, and we couldn’t find any place to pull out and get a panorama of the area, so we ate our lunch with a view of the supermarket parking lot. A white cat came by, so Carol was happy. We parked next to one of those Smart cars, there are tons of them here, and Carol said if I felt I was too close to it, I could kick it and it would move out of the way. When we were in town we had to be careful crossing streets because as Carol said: “If it hits you, you could damage it.” We’re driving a Renault Clio, and while she’s a gutless wonder, I have appreciated her small size when negotiating the small city streets and alleys, parking, and, in particular, while the oncoming drivers feel their share of the road includes a sizable portion of my side of the white line.
We’ve yet to see the big vineyards but they’re getting bigger as the soil improves. They started out in the rocky outcroppings with nothing more than a good-sized back yard at home. Just a few rows and no more than 100 feet long. Soon however, they began to get larger as the owners had terraced them on the steep hills, looking much like the rice fields in Asia as they worked their way up the side of the hills. The Cherry trees are in bloom and with the green hills of Spring made for some grand photo ops. They looked like a snow fall had left the flakes on the trees but nowhere else. We’ve been amazed at some of the plants. Camellias grow to be more than 20 feet high. They’ll plant several together and then entwine them so that the trunk is more than 2 feet across. We saw this amazing azalea plant more than 7-8 tall pruned like an upside down flower pot, and absolutely awash in color. Every inch of it was a bright magenta and in full bloom. Collards grow 6 feet tall on a skinny stalk. They just keep picking the new leaves, and the plant keeps producing. They’ll plant new ones so that when the old plant finally goes to seed, they have new leaves already producing.
The driving was its usual nerve-wracking adventure. I think the Portuguese must have invented the term “Tail-gating.” And I don’t mean the sports arena type. Get get so close and they drive so fast, I pulled off several times to let them pass so I could drive in a more leisurely manner. I did get tail-gated by an Alfa Romeo which was pretty cool, but big trucks and vans wore on my nerves. They obviously don’t have any “5 cars behind” laws like they have in California. Nobody, except tourists I guess, pulls over and lets others pass. Long lines snake their way up the serpentine roads when stuck behind a laden truck. When the Portuguese get frustrated at the slowness of the pace, they’ll begin to pass, one car at a time. They do this when there’s no room to do so, and therefore, force their way back In line often forcing the oncoming traffic to move over and there’s not that much room. The cars in the long line are forced to let the car back in line, often creating a dangerous situation. The thing about it that I can’t figure out is that they are an otherwise very polite and generous people. We’ve been treated with nothing but kindness during our stay. People have gone out of their way to show us complicated directions of how to get from here to there and always done so in a pleasant manner. But get them behind the wheel of a car and all bets are off.
The hills are absolutely dotted with housing and construction. New houses abound, really pretty ones freshly painted white or peach. They look to be growing right out of the rocks. A huge boulder seems to form the back wall, while smaller ones form the basis of the foundation for the front of the house. For the most part, they are 2-3 stories high, and everything is built in a vertical manner so houses tend to be high rather than long.
Food continues to be excellent and, with a little searching and help from Lonely Planet, not too expensive. Portions are VERY generous and excellently prepared. Tonight Carol had Grilled Squid, boiled Potatoes, thank you Dan Quayle, and mixed veggies. I had a savory combination of pork chunks and clams stewed/simmered together to form a really nice broth and french fries. A half bottle of very nice house wine for $2.50 brought the bill to $27 with tip. The good news/bad news about the french fries is that they are the most common way to serve potatoes here. The second most prevalent would be the plain, boiled variety. While it’s not my favorite way to have spuds, with apologies to O’ Brady’s, they are the best french fries I’ve ever had. They are always fresh, never frozen, and the variety really lends itself to making fries. They love their potatoes and sell them in grocery stores in 100 pound sacks.
The weather has been truly great in the 80’s, but it seems we’re in for some days of rain ahead. If it rains too much, I may have to watch it from a bar with a tall glass of port in my hand just watching people. Life could be a lot worse.
I have such sweet memories of all of you on my list. You wouldn’t be on the list otherwise. You’d be amazed at how often each of you crosses my mind and brings a smile to my heart. Please take care of yourselves,
Carol and Jim
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