Portugal

After a night in Viana de Castelo, we headed to Leixoes, from where we visited Porto, Portugal’s second largest city, on public transport driven by budding Formula One superstars. Corners in the roads apparently only exist to add excitement to the journey and allow the driver the chance to throw passengers from their seats as he speeds over cobbled streets that have the added benefit of rattling every bone.

Porto climbs up steeply on both sides of the Douro River. The north side is crammed with houses, cathedrals, churches, shops, cafes and bars. Ornate buildings fill the city. Streets are dirty though and we felt the place could do with a good spring clean.

On the south side are the Port wine lodges.

Parked between the two are the sailing barcos used in olden times to transport the barrels of port to their final destinations. Now they decorate the river and are raced once a year for fun displaying on their sail the advert of the wine lodge to which they belong.

On hearing that the lodges offer free sampling, Dave challenged his fear of heights, braved the 100m high iron bridge

and we crossed to the south side to partake in this offer. It would have been rude to refuse. Perhaps after our visit to the third lodge Dave was being a little cheeky when he asked if they had any stilton to accompany it.

The Portuguese coast line has not been as scenic as Northern Spain’s. In fact it is quite uninteresting. One long flat sandy beach seems to run its length. We by passed Aveiro, following the advice of our pilot book, and visited Figueira da Foz, a town with the largest beach I’ve ever seen and not much else apart from a wonderful covered market selling all kinds of fruit and vegetables. It was here we experienced Portugal’s novel way of roasting chickens. They are laid completely flat, sandwiched between two wire trays and roasted over charcoal. Even though they resemble the world’s worst traffic accident we thoroughly recommend them.

Next stop Nazare.

Philippa and Dave