Day 1 - Historic Porto

# Pasteis de Nata: 3, Distance Walked: 11.9km, # Floors Climbed : 46, Time Taken: All day

I managed to stay awake until 8:30pm last night and slept through until 6:30am today.  Not bad but I'm still a little jet-lagged.

I woke to the sound of pouring rain.  I was tempted to roll over and try to go back to sleep but I'd booked a walking tour of Historic Porto this morning with Porto Walkers.  Fortunately, by the time the tour started the rain had mostly cleared and it just drizzled on and off all morning.  The afternoon alternated between cool and sunny so I was forever putting on and taking off my coat.  Still, better than putting up and folding up my umbrella.

The tour was given by a young man called Alex who took up being in the tourism industry as he wasn't academically inclined and he felt this played to his strengths.  He was clearly the hyperactive class clown who would have been the despair of his teachers.  As a tour guide he was very entertaining.  He was knowledgeable and opinionated which is exactly what you need.

There were 10 of us on the tour.  Four Canadians, 4 Americans and another woman from Melbourne.  All of us on our first visit to Portugal.  I've noticed that Portugal doesn't seem to be that popular with English-speaking tourists.  There are many French tourists as well as those speaking Spanish, German and Russian.  Fortunately, in spite of this, English gets used as the lingua franca.

While on the tour we kept seeing young people dressed in formal black clothes with long black capes, strongly reminiscent of Harry Potter.  It is the time of year when the university students graduate.  Apparently JK Rowling used to live in Porto and took a lot of ideas for her books from Portuguese traditions.

One tradition she didn't copy - because it is really rather strange - is the annual ritual of the handing over the capes.  First year uni students, who have managed to complete their first year, pick a graduating student to be their "godparent".  This godparent then "baptises" the first year (in a rather filthly) fountain.  The 1st year then puts on a (padded) hat and is beaten (playfully) about the head with a cane.  Then there is something about burning of ribbons and/or bits of capes that I didn't quite follow.  I believe this all takes place on May 6 but of course the whole week is taken up with drinking and partying.

After the tour I had lunch at a place Alex recommended - Grupo Desportivo Infante Dom Henrique.  In spite of the grand name it was actually a casual bistro (for lack of a better term).    I had bacalhau (salt cod) fritters with tomato rice.   I'm not sure why Alex rated it so highly.  While the servings were generous and it was very reasonably priced, the food was just Decent.  I have no regrets about eating there but I wouldn't bother going back.  Perhaps I just chose badly.   The problem with bacalhau is that it is hard to get right.  If you don't soak it enough it is unbearably salty.  On the other hand, soak it too much and you don't just leach out all the salt, but all the flavour too.  One man ordered a sausage, which you had to grill yourself over a little portable grill.  Seemed like too much work to me.

After lunch I visited the Casa do Infante which is a museum of the history of Porto in the old customs house, which is built over the ruins of an old Roman building.  When I arrived I asked the guard where the ticket office was, in my best Portuguese, and was told entry was free.  He then asked me where I was from and only lapsed into English when he heard me say Australia.  All those Portuguese lessons paid off!

The museum had a model of Porto which clearly showed how steep the city is.  I'm not sure if it is visible from the photo but Porto is actually on the slopes of a very deep gorge.  I needn't worry about keeping in shape for the hike later this holiday.  I'm getting plenty of exercise just sightseeing.

After the museum I just ambled about.  I came across a group of drummers busking outside the cathedral - because why not?  They were very good but had a fairly limited range.

Next I had my third pastel de nata for the day at the place Alex swore sold the best ones in Porto - Manteigaria.  Many others agree - or else it is in all the guide books - because there was a queue.  I dithered about bothering to queue up but decided to do so in the end.  It isn't as if I'm busy after all.  Their tarts were perfectly Good.  The best pastry I've had so far - wonderfully light and crisp.  The filling was rich and creamy but not too sweet.  However, it just didn't blow me away.  Perhaps I need to sample a wider range of pastries rather than just restricting myself to one type.

(The other 2 pastel de nata I had today were 2 mini ones from the breakfast buffet (which I count as one full one) and another at a cafe we stopped at during the walking tour.  Both/all were Decent, verging on Good.)

For dinner, I didn't bother with any more recommendations but just randomly chose a restaurant near my hotel in a street one block back from the river called the River Douro.  I had bacalhau (again) this time fried along with peppers and onions and potatoes.  We would have this on Good Friday when I was a growing up.  It was too salty and too oily and the fish was full of bones (not unlike how I remember it from my childhood).  For dessert I had a slightly overcooked creme caramel.  Objectively, the food was Bad.  However, the waiters were friendly, cheerful and very appreciative of my attempts at Portuguese and the whole meal was so reminiscent of my childhood I enjoyed the experience.  Definitely won't be going back though.

At the end of my main course I wanted to tell the waiter we used to eat this on Good Friday when I was a child.  However, what I actually said was "When girl, we eat, Easter Friday" with suitable hand gestures as that was all the Portuguese I knew.  He understood what I meant.  I must remember that when I'm in Italy.  I get so worried about being grammatically correct in Italian I end up not saying anything.  I'm being much chattier in Portuguese even though I know so much less of the language.

After dinner I went for a wander along the river front.  I took a picture of my hotel.  It is the yellow building on the corner and the odd blue hut on the roof is my room.