observations of Portugal (and Spain)

The Spanish label their railways, so when you drive over a railway line it says which line it is, much in the same way that rivers in the UK (and elsewhere) are labeled. Whether this is for the benefit of lost travelers or train spotters isn't clear. But it´s probably comforting to know that the train passing beneath you is the 10.45 to Madrid. If you're a train spotter, well that knowledge is clearly invaluable.

The Portuguese have lots of rocks. They are everywhere. You wouldn't think they'd need to bother quarrying for stone seeing as it seems to be pretty much the only crop in some of the fields, but there are loads of quarries anyway.

Whoever decides where to put road signs in Portugal seems to take great delight in misleading would be picnickers, as there were a plethora of "picnic-table-under-shady-tree" signs on the way to Porto that lead instead to baking hot service station car parks.

After a schlepp of a drive yesterday, powering (ahem) Sheena up the highest mountain range in Portugal, we are now in the lovely city of Porto. Portugal's second city reminds me equally of Newcastle and Zanzibar, in the way that high, beautiful bridges span the Douro river between castles and cathedrals, while the old town is full of cramped, tiled, slightly decrepid, but nonetheless attractive buildings. There's a heat haze over the city, but with the breeze from the Atlantic it's cool and pleasant. The lower bank - a separate city called Gaia (more parallels with Tyneside) - is full of Port distillers and wholesalers, their signs dominating the bank. We'll probably head there after we've finished rinsing the various wireless networks we've managed to find while Kate samples the best coffee in Europe.

Later note from Kate:



We certainly did sample the the local tipple shortly afterwards. We deliberately chose the Ferreira tour and degustation because of its strong Portugese connections and spent an enjoyable hour in the company of a couple (Argentinian and Brazilian respectively, but currently resident in the UK so with very good English) being taught all about Port wine by the guide, then an even more enjoyable time sampling the different types and vintages, with the conversation becoming more convivial and extravagent with every sip. By the end of it all, we were firm friends with Cecile and Guillermo, so went and enjoyed some "pingos" together (glorious shots of wonderfully smooth-roasted espresso coffee with a drop of milk...Theo had hot chocolate) at a cafe back in Porto itself before parting company with fond regards all round. We then came upon an uproarous student graduation parade, which put the English graduation tradition of hats in the air to shame. Ah, this is indeed a fine city. And that's not just the Port talking.