Into Portugal

A text arrives from James – just GPS co-ordinates – Google Maps shows nothing but blue.   Shortly before that, a Facebook posting showing James as a very salty sea dog, vaguely like the character Das Gespenst from Das Boot.   Thinking I’ll need to find a dingy I guess.    Flight from Stuttgart, via Lisbon to Vigo, Taxi to the marina, and as I drag my rollaboard along the jetty, left, right, straight I see the GPS location getting closer and I haven’t gotten wet yet.  Turns out Google Maps doesn’t track pontoons – time to leave the virtual world and get real.   I’ve passed the replica of the Pinta ( the harbor is Baiona  – the departure point for Columbus ).  There ahead of me is James, repairing the dingy, Toby – and Nicky.  And the Sea Star.   This is great.    Welcome aboard, with a beer.  James – recently at a barber – is looking way less scary than the Facebook image.   Nicky is clearly enjoying the boat life,  Toby – practically attired with a halter – a dog with a handle – has a new buddy.   Life is good.  Settle into my wonderful berth, all the comforts, we need to go see the Pinta, and find a bar with a sunset.    Sunset over the Atlantic, then a wander thru the old town, looking at all the potential dinner options – it’s rather warm even at night, so all the restaurants have spread  tables out onto the sidewalks and streets, we find a simple place with lots of locals and order.   Sauteed Peppers, Baby Calamari, other dishes to match and local wine.  We finish and continue to wander from pub to pub.  Waitstaff and bartenders are friendly, multinational, and life is good.

Perfect night of sleep,  breakfast, and we set out for Viana Do Castelo – Portugal.   Easy sail,  Toby is clearly not happy on the water, he looks for and finds a compliant human-of-the-week to attempt to dig a hole under – so cute.   This boating life is easy to adapt to.   Once we arrive, find our slip, and set off to explore the town for the purpose of inspecting and rating each place for dinner – looking for the right mix of locals, busy and optimally on our scale of dining – closer to dive but with something that shows potential for really good eating.   With luck, we find just the place, with a super friendly restaurant owner with limited English, happy fellow diners and local wine.   We are not disappointed.   We are now in Vino Verde country.   We are enjoying Portugal.

We spend the next day exploring the sight of a Techno Festival being set up, the sounds of which we had heard miles away over the water already yesterday.   Across the street is an ancient Church in a little neighborhood.   The Portuguese walls are covered in tiles that are weathered and imperfect and make the facades of the building feel human scale and to this American, the romanticism of old stones to walk on, and old buildings to fantasize moving into and preserving, makes these old port towns a joy to see.

Our third awesome meal – we decided to step down another notch on the Michelin scale and discovered even more friendly service, even better Vino Verde great fish and more reasons to consider Portugal as a permanent residence.    Next morning – back to the same Cafe for more yellow bread stuffed with ham and cheese, good coffee and yet more friendly service.  Then a sail down the coast to our first port of call on the Atlantic coast just north of Porto, a beach town with beach bistros – and an easy Uber ride into Porto itself for sunset on the iron bridge, and I know I am repeating myself, but yes, another place with friendly owner/waitstaff/family and fish and Vino Verde.

Wandering around Porto everything is good – and for one last snack we stop into a hip new place a step up on the Michelin scale – a sad move, unfriendly, bad wine, a good way to appreciate better all the other places and people we have seen.  Note to self and others – avoid the Mercado Ferreira Borges, as great as this 138 year old building looks – forget eating there.  Back to the Marina – still feeling like another round is due – up to the little village near by, yes of course a pub is open with sausage cooked table-side by 50 cm high open flames – this would just not happen in the USA, and something called a Francesinha – makes the scottish egg look low calorie and healthy by comparison.

We decide to move the boat – and leave the Atlantic harbor and move to the Duoro Marina closer to town – and the port warehouses.    The Ponte Luis 1 iron bridge is only about 25 ft above the river – our mast is 55 ft – so there is a clear end to our journey – but as you can see below – all smiles as we cruise into Porto in the most dramatic way – we see other tourists stuffed into large motor boats for package tours – they are waving.   We turn around and sail down river to our new anchorage.    One last fish barbecue on the banks of the Duoro – Jennifer has flown in to take my place, then I am whisked away by Uber into a different world.

Bad wifi at the Marinas – there plenty of room for improvement – means the work and world was mostly left behind for 5 days of easy times with 2 awesome people and a cuddly dog in friendly ports.  Time in the Airport to catch up on Politics – ugh, then the flight to the Azores, with an evening walking along the port in Ponta Delgada – filled with people eating and talking until way past 1 am – the ferries to the other islands coming and going at all hours, lots activity topped off with a few heavenly bursts from the Persiedes Meteor Showers that evening – all magical.   Good hotel but not as comfortable as the Sea Star.   10 hours later – I’m in an Uber/Lyft – driving back to home in Austin – missing the colors, the water, the fish, and the good company.    A wonderful time.