Portugillians

7-17-2010

After about 4 hours of sleep (apparently with vividly loud dreams, sorry Courtney) we awoke before the sun and headed out to the train station. We had no idea what to do when we got there so we waited with an unsuspecting Portuguese (fondly named a Portugillian by my precious roommate). we thought was waiting to get on the train but was really just waiting to smoke his last cigarette. Weren’t we so nice to wait on him? So we found our seats—they were initially taken by a woman and her little boy who we now think snuck onto the train because we saw them later being chased down by an official train personnel. There were such characters on this train: one guy in camo pants and an intense rain coat who was ready if the train happened to drop him off in the middle of the desert or in a boat in the perfect storm, some British guys who we named Johnny and Harry (Harry had a skunk like hair-do), and another guy who said nothing to us on the train but then we saw like 3 times in Coimbra and he was ecstatic to wave to us. So without any announcements of train stations we figured out where to get off through the disaster of triple translation (Portugueseà Spanishà English). Que dificil.

Anyways, the train station turned out to be in the middle of nowhere and they didn’t have any maps so we had no idea how to arrive in the middle of somewhere. So after a difficult conversation with the man at the train station and a collaboration of 2 taxi drivers, we decided it was best to walk for about 2-3km to the middle of the city. Some of the first words you should learn in any language are: Right and left. So when you awkwardly say the name of a place you can understand how they tell you to get there.

So as an act of God and no thanks to the 3 people we asked on the way, we weaved through the narrow streets of Coimbra to finally arrive at the main plaza of Coimbra, Portugal. By the way, plaza in Portuguese is more like Prasha. Confusing. Portuguese sounds like you’re talking to a drunk European who’s attempting to speak Spanish, French, and Italian all at once. I didn’t understand a word of it.

Since we got there around 9am, we stopped into the Santa Cruz Café that used to be a church and still has stained glass. It was weird asking for a menu in Spanish, as if that’s easier to understand. We had a really nice waiter and we had some muffins and coffee before searching out a map at the tourist center a few blocks away.

We found a great park that ran along the Mondego River. The city was so beautiful as the backdrop for the River. The University, cathedral, and tons of houses sat on top of the mountain. They were all packed in there, white with terracotta roofs, so picturesque.

We ran upon a huge grass bear in the park too. There were lots of pretty bridges too, I thought of you Michael. Once was strictly a pedestrian bridge and had water-colored sides that kind of looked like stained glass.

Coolest Pedestrian bridge ever. Michael, you should design bridges like this:

So after discovering a bit of the city and a local market, we started up the mountain towards the university. We stopped half way up and had lunch. We found the safe grilled chicken, soup, and café. The coffee was tiny and probably mixed with dirt. It was so strong I couldn’t even take 3 sips, and I really like strong coffee.

After surviving lunch, we hiked up the rest of the mountain and found the university and cathedral. They were both beautiful.

Portuguese nuns in baseball caps. You don't see that everyday!

Bank of the Holy Spirit: Storing up treasures in Heaven.

We also ventured across a different bridge to visit Dos Pequenitos, a complete city in small form. It cost money to go in so we just observed through the gate but it was precious. By this time in the afternoon we were exhausted from getting up so early so we laid under a tree and took a nap by the river for about an hour.

We eventually made it back across the river to buy dinner to go and headed back to the train station in a taxi because we couldn’t possibly physically walk any further.

We met some sweet Spanish ladies in line for the train and they must have told me 20 times that they were cousins that lived in pueblos right next to each other—25 kilometers by coche. But they were so nice as they later wished us luck 40 times as they got off. We finally made it back to Salamanca by about 12:30, satisfied with an amazing day and still not believing we just jetted on over to Portugal for the day. My life is so surreal right now.

My new favorite flower:

P.S. I'm apparently obsessed with sailboats, bridges, and shoes. Thanks family for rubbing off on me :)