Porto Parte Dous.

5/4/13

Hokai.  So.  Back to Porto.  Gotta wrap up this story so I can get back to talking about regular Lugo things.

I believe I left off at the end of Friday...

Saturday morning, we wrestled ourselves out of bed relatively early (especially after kinda sorta having gone on the hostel's pub crawl the night before, but mostly just going to bars).  Our French-Canadian friend Stef had decided to spend the day with us, and first on the agenda was the free walking tour offered by the hostel.  'Cause it was easy to see that Porto is a pretty place, but we wanted to learn something about it while we were there as well.  I had two things on my personal agenda: go inside the Lello & Irmão bookstore (because it looks like this inside), and buy some cheap new black flats (the pair I'd brought with me when I came over way back in October had finally bought it during the aforementioned pub crawl).  So, on our way to the bookstore, we stopped at a flea market that was pretty neat, and then went inside the bookstore.  You're not allowed to take photos in there; I managed to sneak one, but it's very blurry.  For a better view, you should look at the link above.  It is supposedly a place that inspired JK Rowling while writing Harry Potter!

Pretty flowers at the flea market; the orchids made me think of you, Gramma! :-)

And some fake flowers jeje.

Que colores!

I feel it's obvious even from the outside how this could have inspired a book about wizards.

And after that we fuimos a la Praça da Liberdade to meet up with the tour group.  The highlights of this tour were: going to a pastelería and learning how to order a pastel de nata and the equivalent of a café con leche in Portuguese, visiting a plaza where the revolution against the dictator Salazar supposedly started, seeing a bunch more students walking around in cloaks, visiting the lovely train station, and learning a bit about the history of the Ponte Luiz I.

Oh, also, we were ambushed by this group.  Apparently it was the International Day of Laughter.  We got lots of hugs and kisses and smiles and "bom dia!"s from these happy strangers :)

The plaza where the revolution debatably started.  Someone (wish I could remember his name...) made a speech and people gathered to here it (even though, under Salazar, congregating was illegal).

One of those was the pastel de nata I successfully ordered!  Along with a galão (café con leche). :D

Church with some really pretty tile.

This picture actually shows 2 churches-- one on the left, one on the right.  The two windows and door between them actually used to be a house!  Apparently you couldn't legally have two Catholic churches of different sects next to each other... funny people.

Inside the train station!  São Bento.

Apparently the blue tiles are associated with the monarchy, and the colored ones with the republic.

These scenes are supposed to depict the history of Portugal.  The Portuguese word for tile is "azulejo" (get it, 'cause they're mostly blue?).  And they're traditionally blue because the dye required to make this color came from far away and was super expensive (and therefore extremely hoighty-toighty).

Yet another group of wizards outside the train station.  (They were walking around like this all over the place.)

Cristine and I, on top of the Ponte Luiz.

We did some "off road" exploring on the other side. hehe.

And then did wine tasting, round 2!

Cornelius got a little drunk.

I finally tried bacalhau/bacalao (codfish) for lunch.  It was... salty.
(Which is apparently due to the fact that it is fished and preserved in like Norway or somewhere Scandinavian, and then shipped to Portugal... dunno why they decided to make it their national dish, but they're obsessed with it.)

Then we took a boat and a bottle of wine on the river with our friend Stef from the hostel :)

We saw all six bridges that cross the Douro.

On the way back to the hostel, these wizards (who I think were basically being hazed) performed a ridiculous song and dance for us (lots of stomping and booty-shaking).

And that night we set out with some people from the hostel to join the festivities!

And even got to meet and hang out with some students/Harry Potters! (mostly thanks to a Brazilian friend we'd made who told them I wanted a picture with them... hehe.)

And... I got to wear a cape.  For like a whole 30 minutes.  It was incredible. (This is the rest of the magic I was talking about haha.)

Whew!  Now you know basically everything.  It was a great weekend in a great place :)  I'd love to go back to Portugal someday... everyone in Porto said Lisboa is also amazing, and I'd love to see it!  Maybe by the time I go back I'll know some more Portuguese ;)

Also, holyyyyy cow I only have 5 more days left at my school.  Freak out!  Ay.  Wish me luck with job applications, and James&Sarah Euro Adventure planning! jaja.

Sorry, this is not Portugal.

5.16.13

*not* the continuation of my Portugal trip (hopefully that will happen mañana... sorry I procrastinate, guys :[ )

This post is here because there are two observations I'd like to share...

The first is about the galego phrase "e logo."
The second is about elevator culture.

E logo.  This phrase, literally meaning "and later" (y luego), is apparently extreeeemely versatile in galego.  I learned of 2 (opposing) uses for it yesterday, and my students led me to believe that there are in fact even more, but it would have been too hard to explain them to me.  It's all in the intonation (and facial expression), but "e logo" can be a way to avoid answering someone's questions and/or get them to piss off, and it can also be a way of reassuring/emphatically affirming.  (huh???) 
Evidently, Gallegos are known for being very guarded and not liking to give straight answers (stereotypically, at least... however, most of the Gallegos I ask pretty much agree with this perception).  So, if you're Gallego and someone asks you something,  (not even something personal, it could be totally innocuous, like: did you go shopping this weekend?), and you don't want to answer them, you say "e logo?" with rising intonation.  This essentially translates to you saying "why are you asking?"  I think this sounds like a recipe for some super awkward conversations ('cause it's kind of rude and face threatening, isn't it? Isn't it, fellow English-speakers and Americans?), but I guess it's pretty normal... Couldn't really figure out what you're supposed to do if a person says "e logo" to you in this manner... Drop the subject and try to carry on, I guess.
You can also say "e logo" in response to a question with falling intonation, and this supposedly means something like "claro," or "of course."  "Did you remember to get some fish for dinner?" "E logo." (DUH.)

Elevator ("lift") culture.
Ok, so, in the US, it's safe to say that we never speak to people in elevators.  We DEFINITELY never speak to strangers in elevators.  It feels practically taboo, or at the very least extremely uncomfortable.  You can ask what floor a person is going to, and that's about it.  Typically, anyway.  This is of course different if you're in the elevator at work/with people you know... but in public elevators, in hotels... anywhere where you're in there with strangers, it's like there's an unspoken (lol) agreement to just not speak till you get off at your floor.  Maybe(probably) because it's such a tiny little space, and it basically forces you into the personal bubbles/spaces of strangers (we are not OK with this, as a rule).  This has not been my experience in Spain.  Anytime someone gets on, it's always "Hola, que tal?" and then maybe a comment on the weather, and an "hasta luego" everytime a person leaves.  It's actually kinda nice.  Perhaps this is because most of the elevators I've been in have been in apartment buildings, and my fellow passengers probably assume I live in the same building as them... but now I'm wondering.  Are Spanish people not opposed to elevator interaction?  Is it possible that it's weird that we are in the US?  What about in the UK?  The amount of space around your body that is "your personal space" is definite not as great here as it is back home... It's a theory.  I dunno.  I feel like I want to go around asking all my friends from different countries what it's like to ride in elevators where they're from now... because I'm a dork. heh.

Mañana is día de las letras gallegas (Galician Literature Day); maybe if I can get my Porto post finished and up I'll try to find some excerpt of Galician literature to translate and share with you all.

...Woody Allen?

5/2-5/13 (Porto)

Ahhh, is it really already May 9th?!  PANIC.  No lo puedo creer.

When I first got to Spain, that afternoon of October 18th when I got my first glimpses of Lugo walking around with Ana, it felt like all the months stretched into an endless expanse in front of me.  It was scary.  Exciting, but scary.  And now it's already gone.  Oof.

I'm excited to go home.  I miss Florida and everyone in it.  I even just miss America, period.  And I miss calling it "America," despite that being a somewhat controversial name.  I'll be happy to get back.  But I'll also be sad to leave Lugo.  To leave Spain.. heck, to leave Europe.  There's so much cool stuff over here! haha.  That sounds juvenile and ridiculous... but it's true!  And normally I'm so far away from this side of the world.  I wonder if I'll ever see the people I've met here again.  I hope so.  I hope I'll see Galicia again.  I certainly hope I'll see Spain again.  GAH.  I need to stop worrying about the future, but my God, there are so many what if's... What if this, what if that, what if what if what if... So what!  Ok.  Moving on.

The point of this post, the exciting part, is that I spent last weekend in Porto (Portugal) with Cristine!  Yes, Cristine actually came to visit!  So fantastic.  I can't even tell you how surreal it was to hang out with my Tampa friend in Portugal.  All of a sudden, we were just in the same hostel room.  Magic.  (there will be more magic in this post, too... hehe. 'cause I'm kind of a nerd.)

The bus ride I took from Santiago was really pretty, too.  I got to see Pontevedra and Vigo for the first time.  Also drove by a town called Braga, which made me snigger ("bragas" means underwear/panties in Spanish).  I'd really like to actually go to Vigo.  With 3 weekends left and me trying to save up money, vamos a ver if that happens :p

Porto (Oporto in Spanish and English), is a neat little town in Northern Portugal on the coast where the river Douro (which starts in Spain) meets the Atlantic Ocean.  One the opposite bank of the Douro is the town of Vila Nova de Gaia (Gaia).  This is where port wine comes from.  There are 6 six bridges connecting Porto and Gaia.  Throw in a bunch of old Portuguese buildings covered in tile, a weekend full of sunshine, yummy pastries, and friendly people (Portoans?) and you've got a beautiful city!  Oh, also, JK Rowling was apparently living in Porto and working as an English teacher when she started writing the first Harry Potter book.  So there are wizards, too, as you'll soon see.

The first afternoon we were there, we stopped for lunch and then walked down to the river (with some accidental and purposeful wandering through the tiny residential streets on the way).  It was so freaking pretty down there, especially as the sun was starting to set, that we went and bought a bottle of wine and drank it on the wharf :)

First view of the river, and the Ponte Luiz I (the bridge)

The Praça da Ribeira.  Heart of the oldest part of the town.

What a place to reunite!

First glimpse of the cathedral, on top of the hill.

Wine = obtained ;)

Looking across the river at Gaia.

Watching the sun go down on the river :)

The next day, at the suggestion of the guy working at the hostel, we took a bus out to the beach, and took an approximately 5-6 hour walk back to the Ribeira area.  Of course, it would have been shorter, but we stopped for manyyyy pictures and also francesinhas!  Francesinhas are a type of sandwich that are famous in Portugal, and especially in Porto.  And it's not just a tourist thing.  One of the guys working at the hostel told us he meets his friends every Thursday to go eat them.  "Francesinha" (according to our French Canadian friend from the hostel) translates to "little French girl."  This makes zero sense to me, as they seem neither little, nor French.  Pictures to follow.

Forte de São Francisco Xavier.  Where our walk began.

So many pretty rocks!  And look at that water!

Foz neighborhood!

Kinda sorta like being back in Florida? jeje

Hola!

Boats!

And those (drum roll) are francesinhas!  Steak (I took that out), two types of sausage, ham, giant mushy bread, covered in melted cheese, with a fried egg on top, and swimming in secret sauce (yes, it is a secret).  And surrounded by french fries.  For good measure. (No, we couldn't finish them.)

After we and our food babies got back to Ribeira, we crossed the river to Vila Nova de Gaia.

With the purpose of going to a wine tasting/tour at Taylor's winery.

Me, standing in front of some decorative boats.  This type of boat used to be used to transport the port from the area where the grapes are grown to Porto/Gaia for the port making process to be completed and for the finished product to be stored and shipped.

We had to hike up quite a hill to get to Taylor's, but it was pretty.

When we got there, there was a rose garden, and they gave us our first port wine sample.

The Taylor's mark (4 XX).  This mark/company has been around since 1692! Holy wow, Batman!

Giant barrels of port wine.

One of the largest (the largest?) wine barrels in Europe.

Our other samples, that we enjoyed out in the garden :)

We walked across the top of the bridge on our way back to Porto.

If you look closely, you can see the names of a bunch of wineries in this picture: Taylor's (background), Calem, Sandeman, Offley...

Somewhat accidentally stumbled across the cathedral on our way back down the hill.

Another night spent down by the river, this time drinking vinho verde :) (yes, that means green wine... It's really just white wine, but is called that because of the region the grapes come from or something like that.)  Oh, and there was a man played guitar and singing softly in Portuguese behind us.  Pretty idyllic.

I've decided my blog posts tend to be way too long... so I'll stop this first part of the Porto tales here, and continue mañana.  Boas noites, everyone.

Oh, this post is titled the way it is because Cristine said something about feeling like she was in a Woody Allen movie on the first night.  After this, we turned to each other periodically throughout the weekend and just said "Woody Allen? What? Woody Allen?" jeje.  No tiene mucho sentido, but there it is.  It made us giggle at the time.  FUN FACT: "Woody Allen" is pronounced "Boody Allen" by Spanish speakers in Spain.  Everything sounds like a "b" in Spanish... b's, v's, w's...

Also also, the rest of the magic I referred to earlier will have to wait till the next installment.  hehe.