University

We had a late morning this morning, but couldn't sleep in. Jet lag is over (for now) but disordered sleep is not uncommon when moving from bed to bed, hotel to hotel, city to city. We were still awake early.

Our tour leader took us on a walk to an area of the city we had not previously been, near the university. After seeing some sites, we entered a cafe that has been traditionally popular with students. Here we met a young man who is a fairly recent graduate of a masters program in architecture.

Joao (pronounce ju-OHM) explained the tradition of students wearing black suits and capes when on and around campus. This medieval tradition was revived during the time of the dictatorship as a way of making students "invisible." Since all were dressed the same, they were harder for police to identify at protests or when seen meeting in groups.

The tradition continues as an ongoing symbol of resistance to any undemocratic tendencies in government or society. Also, J.K. Rowling, the author of the Harry Potter books, taught English here for a brief time. Students believe that the Hogwarts uniforms and the "invisibility cloak" in those stories were inspired by the tradition here.

Joao also spoke about the educational system and the "brain drain" facing Portugal since graduates can often find better jobs elsewhere in the E.U. than staying at home. He also mentioned challenges for students in finding housing near the university because of the gentrification of Porto and pressures on real estate due to tourism.

After this discussion our group dispersed. We walked a "garden" (city park) with beautiful views over the city. On a summer-like October Saturday it was full of locals enjoying the weather outdoors.

We walked toward the cathedral, taking a round-about route through the narrow residential streets where many buildings are not yet renovated.

At the cathedral, the line to buy admission was so long it wound around the block, so we decided to skip it. Instead, we walked back down hill through still more narrow streets until we reached the river. There we got a table at a sidewalk cafe, ordered drinks, and lingered to do some serious people watching. With tons of tourists here, there were plenty of people to watch!

Returning to the hotel we discovered emails informing us that our return flight to Minneapolis of tomorrow had been cancelled. We have to get up very early in the morning to fly to Amsterdam. From there, we're unsure what our route will be.

The day ended with our "farewell dinner" with the OAT group at a nearby restaurant. Now we'll try to get a little sleep before having to get up in the wee hours to go to the airport and on to destinations unknown.

Arouca

Once again we skipped an optional tour offered by OAT and opted for a day trip with a local company. Both trips were essentially going the same place, but the one we chose included a more active itinerary. A three mile hike in a river gorge is more than most OAT travelers wish to take on.

We had to walk about half a mile to meet our van. There were eight passengers (including us) with a driver guide. The group included two sisters from Belgium, a mother and adult daughter from the Netherlands, and a couple from Switzerland -- although neither was Swiss. The man was from Scotland and the woman from the Philippines, but they lived and worked in Basil. No other Americans.

Our first stop was the village of Arouca where we had a bathroom/coffee break. It's a cute village with a very large convent built by Queen Mafalda (who apparently was only a princess, and became a nun). 

We took a peak into the convent church. The nuns here became famous for making sweets that are called conventas because they came originally from the convent.

We drove on to a spot where we parked along a two-lane highway and walked into the woods. This was not what we were expecting, but after a walk of about a quarter mile we reached our destination: The Arouca 516 suspension bridge.

Suspended 175 meters above River Paiva, in the UNESCO Arouca Geopark (nature preserve) the Arouca is 516 meters long (hence the name). It is a pedestrian only bridge connecting two parts of the park across the Paiva gorge.

The bridge swings a bit, which makes for an exciting walk. But it's not as bad as many smaller such bridges we've been on. In our case, it was something of a bridge to nowhere. Nothing we were doing the rest of the day was on the far side. So after crossing it, we turned around and crossed back.

After the bridge, we started down the cascada, a series of wooden stairways down the side of the gorge. This is the beginning of the 5 kilometer (3 mile) walk through the gorge. It was a warm day, but the views were worth the trek.

By lunchtime we had earned our meal, so the van took us back to Arouca village for a traditional Portuguese meal of tiny fish, as well as pork, with rice and "green wine" (a white wine from freshly picked grapes that has had very little time to ferment, and thus has a fairly low alcohol content).

For dessert, we were served several of the local conventas. However, they now come from a commercial bakery and no longer from the convent.

In the afternoon we drove to Costa Nova. Until fairly recently this was a poor fishing village on a narrow strip of land between the sea and a salt water lagoon. Now it's being gentrified into a trendy and expensive location for vacation homes.

The fishermen painted their homes in black and white vertical stripes so that they could be easily spotted from sea on foggy days. The black stripes have been replaced by colorful ones, and no poor fisherman can afford to live here anymore.

Next stop with the town of Aveiro, which has been called "The Venice of Portugal." The old town is actually below sea level and crisscrossed by saltwater canals. Tourist boats on the canals have been made to look like the gondolas of Venice.

We were pretty tired by the time we got to Aveiro, so spent most of our time here sitting at a sidewalk cafe, nursing a beer.

Back in Porto, we met up at the hotel with our OAT group for an excellent evening meal at a local restaurant. Then we crashed for the night.

Porto

We arrived this morning in Porto and Gaia (the twin city on the opposite side of the River Douro from Porto) and promptly began a walking tour of the old city, beginning from the cathedral.

Porto Cathedral

Porto is hilly! Everything is built on a steep slope as the Douro cuts through the high hills on its way to the sea. The narrow, cobblestone streets are switchbacks that need to be navigated with some care.

View from Cathedral Plaza

A distinctive architectural element here is the use of porcelain tiles on the facades of many of the old buildings. The Moors introduced tiles to Iberia, and trade with China in the 16th and 17th centuries deepened the connection. So tile is used nearly everywhere.

One extraordinary example is the main railway station, very near our hotel, that is decorated inside with depictions of historical events all created in tiles.

Porto is also crawling with tourists! The old city is so crowded that it's difficult to walk the streets. Relatively few people appear to be locals. The citizens of Porto don't bother fighting the crowds in this old town area unless they have to come here for work.

We ate lunch at a nice restaurant along the river, which is prime tourist territory. The meal was very good, but had we not had the group reservation for this included meal, I doubt we could have gotten a table.

Old houses and warehouses along the river have been restored, and the walls designed to protect from frequent floods are no longer needed because of flood control dams upstream. So these areas are now mostly restaurants, with a few other tourist services mixed in.

In the evening we took a walk in the neighborhood around the hotel and crossed the Ponte Luis I. This bridge is constructed of iron by a protege of Gustave Eiffel and is the second oldest existing bridge in Porto/Gaia. The oldest was designed by Eiffel himself, but can no longer be used. The Luis I bridge carries only trams and pedestrians.

After our walk, many in our group went to a Fado Club to hear traditional Fado music. One of the singers was especially good, and it was obvious that she had a professionally trained voice.

Douro Valley

The bus took us on narrow, winding roads to the town of Pinhão on the Douro River. We got on board a wooden boat that was supposed to be reminiscent of the boats from 200 years ago that transported barrels of port wine from the "quintas" (wineries) of the Douro Valley down to Porto.

From Porto, the wine was shipped primarily to England, where it became particularly popular in the 18th and 19th centuries. Even though the city of Porto gave the wine its name because it was the shipping hub, only vineyards in this valley are allowed to make wine with the name. So no port actually comes from Porto. It's only shipped from there.

The steep hills of this valley have been terraced since Roman times for the cultivation of grapes and olives. Since the harvest is now over, things are quiet in the valley. Had we been here a month earlier we might have seen scores of migrant workers and lots of truck traffic. There are hundreds of quintas in this valley!

Once done with the boat ride we were driven back toward Lamego where we visited a quinta: "Quinta da Portela de Baixo." Here we were to have a tour, a tasting, and a light lunch. But the food kept coming and the tasting was full glasses of at least a half dozen different types of port. When we finished we were quite full and a bit tipsy.

Port is made from a variety of grapes. The distinctive process is that, when the grapes are crushed, some of the solids remaining are distilled into a potent grape spirit. At a very precise point in the fermentation process of the wine, a specific measure of the spirit is added back to it. This boosts the alcohol content of the wine to around twenty percent, halting the fermentation process as the wine is aging.

We spent the remainder of the afternoon sitting beside (but not in) the hotel pool, reading our books. This gave us time to sober up before dinner. Of course, wine was served with the meal.

Ponte de Lima & Guimarães

There are various routes for the Camino to Santiago de Compostela. From Bilbao, we have been following "The French Way." Now we are tracking, in reverse, "The Portuguese Way." Pilgrims walked north, but we are driving south.

Our tour leader, Marc, at a monument along
The Portuguese Way

We crossed from Spain into Portugal and our day immediately got an hour longer. Spain is on Central European Time and Portugal is on European Western Time, so it was suddenly an hour earlier when we crossed the Rio Minho into Portugal.

Our first stop involved crossing another river. At the town of Ponte de Lima we walked a portion of the Portuguese Camino along the Rio Lima. We then crossed the river on the old Roman bridge that gives the city its name.

Every ancient bridge here seems to have a fort or tower on one end, and a church on the other. The towns seem to have sprung up around these, but the bridge came first.

Legend has it that a Roman legion refused to cross the river here due to some sort of superstition. So their general crossed the river on his horse, then called across to let them know he had suffered no ill effects. That got the rest of the troops to follow. For the sake of tourists, statues of Roman soldiers are on one side of the river, with a statue of a lone Roman on a horse on the opposite bank.

Back on the bus, we drove on to the city of Guimaraes. The old town here is small, but nicely preserved. Lunch was on our own, but after a big breakfast we decided to only have dessert. A bakery here makes little pies with spaghetti squash and almond. This could become a favorite way to eat squash!

Guimaraes was the first capital of Portugal, after the nobleman born here defeated the Kingdom of Leon to declare independence and become the country's first king. Ruins of a castle and city wall, as well as a much later palace (now museum) are reminders of this history.

The longest stretch on the bus came in the afternoon as we continued south into the Douro Valley. The terraces carved into the hills above the Douro River have been producing wine grapes since Roman times. This is where Port comes from. We'll learn more about that tomorrow.

The small city of Lamego in the Douro Valley is our destination today. The hotel is new, very modern, and very nice. But unlike the other hotels on this trip, it is not in the city center. After checking into the hotel we had to take the bus once again into town.

At the top of a hill overlooking the city we visited a chapel where healing miracles supposedly take place. No one in our group appeared to be cured of anything. But most of us took the 690 steps down to the city center where we met the rest of the group for a nice included dinner.

Returning to the bus after dark, we noted that the church and stairway are nicely lighted.

Finisterra

Finisterra literally means "the end of the earth" in Spanish. Today we skipped an optional tour with OAT to book a day trip to the end of the earth.

This is a very different mode of travel. Our OAT group has 13 of us plus a tour leader. Our day trip filled a 48 passenger bus, and the same company had a second one right behind us. There were a couple other companies running nearly the same itinerary with similar buses. So everywhere we stopped there were about 200 people getting off buses in the same place at the same time. 

First stop was Ponte Maceira. Ponte means bridge, and the attraction here is a Medieval bridge that was rebuilt atop the foundations of an earlier bridge from Roman times. There are also a couple of ancient mills here that used water wheels as power to grind grain. These are ruins now.

Fortunately, everyone on our bus was prompt and no one kept us waiting. Our guide said everything twice -- first in Spanish and again in English. His English was good, but he spoke very fast in both languages.

Next stop was the seaside fishing village of Muros. Mussel farming is big here. There are platforms out in the bay where mussels are grown. We watched a boat unload literally tons of fresh mussels onto a semi truck, and that was just today's catch!

We walked along the promenade and saw businesses beneath stone arches. These were previously homes of fishermen who used the arches as "garages" to park their boats at high tide. Boats have gotten bigger since then, so the spaces are converted and protected from the tides.

At the village of Carnota we stopped to see examples of "hórreos" or hoards which we were seeing all over as we drove along. These structures are built in the yards near houses to keep food dry in this damp climate. They are on stilts with discs or plates to keep rodents out, and they are ventilated to let the air flow through while keeping the rain out.

You couldn't prove it today, since the sky was clear and the temperature unusually warm for October, but this area gets lots of rain coming in off the sea, So a local church here built a community horreo -- the largest in the area.

The same church also had a very large cemetery. We saw more than a dozen like it today from the bus, but had the opportunity to get close to this one.

Down the road a bit, The Ézaro Waterfall is one of the few in Europe that empties directly into the sea. There are many more impressive waterfalls in the world, but it was nice enough just the same. The surrounding area is quite beautiful.

The town of Fisterra is simply "the end of the earth" in Galician rather than in Spanish. It, too, is a fishing village, but commercial fishing stands beside tourism as drivers of the economy here. Across the bay one can see the "pink mountain" -- a large block of pink granite that the pre-Roman Celtic inhabitants believed to be the dwelling of the gods. Thus, it's sometimes called "the Celtic Mount Olympus."

We enjoyed an excellent seafood lunch at a very reasonable price at a restaurant right along the sea in Fisterra. We then had time to walk it off a bit before we had to be back on the bus.

A short distance from Fisterra is the Cape of Finisterra which is the real "end of the earth." There is a marker here for "Kilometer Zero" which some pilgrims consider to the actual end of the Camino trek. All of the tourists come here to look at the lighthouse and gaze out to sea.

But this point isn't actually the farthest west in mainland Europe (that's a place up the coast a bit from here). And the west coast of Ireland is farther west by one full degree of longitude.

Another point that isn't the actual end of the earth, but should be if you were making a movie (such as the 2010 Martin Sheen film, The Way, which has its climatic penultimate scene here) is Muxia (MU-she-ah).

Here, even on this calm day, the Atlantic waves come crashing against the rocks. It's like watching fireworks. The crowd oo's and ah's with every wave.

A chapel built here features several hanging ship models -- just like a Danish church, except these aren't all sailing toward the altar. Prayers for sailors here go back into antiquity.

From Muxia the bus brought us back to within a few blocks of our hotel. Still full from lunch, we celebrated by going to "dinner" at a very good ice cream shop.