Saturday, July 14, 2012

Spain, part 2

Spain, part 1: My busabout tour.
Spain, part 1.5: Solo in Madrid
Spain, part 2: Traveling with friends!

Yes, I have friends. It all started one morning after a terrible nights sleep in a terrible hostel. I woke up early in a groggy state of mind to ride the Madrid metro at 6am. This is unheard of by a country that parties till 5am and siestas all afternoon. I stood outside the international terminal with a scrap of paper which read OSTROVA. Dasha's flight got in at 7am and she was feeling good despite leaving her new hat on the plane. We rented a car which we later christened Don Benz. Turns out I somehow rented a mini Mercedes instead of a Golf. He is a good drive even though the GPS cannot stick on to any surface besides the sunroof. Hrrm. We drove to Santiago de Compostela to pick up Melissa who had just walked for 15 days on the camino (a pilgrimage walk). I was exhausted but we made it safely. Melissa was staying at a gorgeous hotel but Dasha and I had to stay in a gorgeous hotel across the street. We had a lovely tour of mostly the old part of town and had a yummy dinner. I nearly fell asleep in my jamon but we pushed through.  Vino, octopus, enslada, jamon, queso, and mini fried peppers. Dang it was good. So was that nights sleep.

It was then time to lose an hour, change languages and drive to Portugal. Porto to be exact. We drove the long way and got lost in some coastal towns with breathtaking vistas. Portugal is instantly different from Spain. Shops are open more often, people work more, and the food isn't that impressive even though they have much more fruits and veg in their supremercados. Our first night in Porto we had a mission from Dasha, to find a Portuguese sandwich called a  Francesinha. Pulling from Wikipedia "a Francesinha (meaning a Little Frenchie or simply Frenchie in Portuguese) is a Portuguese sandwich originally from Porto, made with bread, wet-cured ham,linguica, fresh sausage like chipolata, steak or roast meat and covered with melted cheese and a hot thick tomato and beer sauce served with French fries." Sounds bomb, right? We were at the third most beautiful bookstore in the world and we asked the sweet worker there (whose main job was to say "no photos" in several languages) where to get dinner. We went to there. It was a tourist trap but it was too late. We had a terrible dinner. This place brewed their own beer and it was yucky. Dasha and Melissa got the Portuguese sandwich and they said it was the grossest  thing they had ever eaten. I had pasta with meat sauce and they surprisingly didn't screw it up. We followed dinner with filled churros which fell like a lump in our tummies. We swore we'd have a better night and not give up on Portugal yet. 

On our second day things went better. While Melissa went to the beach Dasha and I went on a walking tour of the city. It is a very hilly city. Sometimes more so than San Francisco. The tour guide was a sweet girl who recommended a place for a Francesinha. There were two accountant boys from SF who recommended a dinner place for us. Things were on the up and up. We even dodged a creeper guy who followed our tour group for much too long. Oh! I need to mention during out first night in Porto, while walking to the goss dinner, I fell on cobblestone and landed on my knee pretty hard. Going up and down the steep hills with a bum knee is a terrible idea. 

After a well executed siesta by Dasha we went to Agrade. She slept for almost three hours. Siesta is supposed to last 23 minutes. Dinner was down an alley then down another alley.  The food was great. I ate rabbit stew. Melissa had stewed meat (uncertain of which animal). Dasha had grilled cod. There was some salad and wine involved. Dessert too. And some homemade green wine which Melissa shot all three "sips." This dinner revived our faith in Portuguese food. We tried the Francesinha again. It is great on paper but isn't as good as you expect. Even after going to a highly recommended place by a trusted local. Plus it is a lump in your stomach for hours. I did not take the below photo but it is most representative of what we consumed.
 

Also, Portuguese is REALLY hard!! We knew one word and we used it for most everything despite it meaning thank you. Obrigada. May I please squeeze by you? Obrigada. Thanks for the check. Obrigada. How much for the fruit? Obrigada. You're cute. Obrigada. Obrigada? Obrigada. Eventually we learned out to say coffee with milk. Galao. Our most common phrase? "Un galao, obrigada". We still don't know how to say yes or no, even after three days in Portugal. 

Fun fact! A lot of the worlds cork for wine corks come from Portugal. /

OBRIGADA.

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