Monthly Archives: May 2019

Day 45 – Bilbao Taster

We were torn – no two ways about it. The Picos de Europa caught our attention, big time. On the other hand, with ¾ of our trip done, we just could not muster the energy for a full day hiking day. Plus, ever since one of my friends came back from a weekend romp to Bilbao raving about it, it was placed pretty high on my list. We are city people, after all.

And so we waved good bye to the impressive peaks and valleys of the Picos and headed back for the coastal highway. I snuck in a brief detour via a particularly recommended beach in Eastern Asturia – but when we got there, pretty much everyone except myself was already sound asleep. Bilbao it is, then.

I don’t even know where – there were many beautiful estuaries up here

After a minor challenge finding a parking garage (google does not differentiate between the public and resident only garages) we were smack down in the old town ready to explore. Briefly, at least – as we were quite knackered and the camping situation for tonight was not fully resolved.

Lunch then: Here came the great hour of a local food culture institution. One that quickly won me over, second to only maybe Warung Makan in Indonesia. Pintxos (pronounced peen-chos) are two bite extravaganzas similar to tapas, but smaller and more elaborate. They are pretty much a standard in any bar or café in town. So we did as the locals, picked two bars we liked and had two or three pintxos in each. The Café Bar Bilbao (while sporting an excellent carnivore selection) had no vegetarian option on offer, but were quick to whip up deep fried vege for Nina. Not as good, but A for effort. The location was great, though, giving us flashbacks to Barcelona almost a month ago.

The second spot was chosen for the vegetarian option. Nina enjoyed her chance to join in the fun. The place, Irrintzi was more our vibe as well – a bit artsy, a bit alternative. After two bars, we were actually full enough for lunch time. Just great – a drink, some food, 14€ for two and off to the next bar. I can totally see doing 3-4 in a night and avoiding both a bit of the hangover and a late night food frenzy stop at the golden arches. I want this at home!

this time, with veggie options (burglar still afoot).

We wandered through the old town a bit more, enjoying the architecture as well was the vibe. But it was time. The next campsite was half an hour out of town, which sort of made the decision for us on how to tackle tomorrow. That was a bit too far for public transport, so we would camp for the night, come back into town to park here and move on towards the Rioja valley once we had our fill.

[Flo forgot the most important food selection of the day. I managed to talk him into going to Opila, a patisserie pretty much next to our parking garage and i.n.d.u.l.g.e.d. while Flo planned the route for the next couple of days.]

The camp was one of those we would always rather avoid – expensive, tiny parcels without shade and not quite in a nice location. It was the closes one, though, and given that it was almost empty and the facilities were freshly renovated, it was kind of ok. We did get a chance to see the sunset – at the cost of almost freezing our toes off (in 10° C).

We got some good views …
… even on our way out
could be ad shots, if not the manufacture of both the car and the rooftent recommend against the combination …
I don’t even know where – there were many beautiful estuaries up here
as I said, we were in the zone … no idea, still pretty
farewell, this was our last glimpse of the high mountains
pretty … but the lure of the city had us ensared
we really liked these windowed balconies
first round, meat monster pintxos (see the burglar?)
nice enough to wip something up
off to the next bar
this square reminded us a lot of Barcelona, hawkers and all
this time, with veggie options (burglar still afoot).
we both quite like turn of the century to ’20 architecture
the burglar has made it to the vault …
… he had help!
I think he got away with it!
sunset always takes longer than expected
time to finish with some blogging
geometrically, the sun had already disappeared by that point …
lit ships anchoring at dusk

Day 44 – Covering ground

We started the day okay, though Number 3 had some accidents while we were packing up. The first time, when he screamed as if he was really hurt, we ran to him and couldn’t really figure out why he was screaming so much. It just lay on the ground on his belly as if he had tripped…just…one of his legs was oddly twisted and…oh no…his foot was still pointing towards the sky. *shudder*

It turns out he was playing with a traffic cone when his sandal got stuck on a nail. He couldn’t get it loose and then fell… Luckily, toddlers are tough (and flexible). Once we had freed him and comforted him for about two minutes, he went off exploring again on his own.

So the second time he screamed like he really hurt himself, we just sprinted to him straight away. This time though, he hadn’t hurt himself at all. He had figured out how to turn on the camp ground’s tap for drinking water. What he didn’t anticipate was that he would stand in a stream of icy cold water afterwards. He was so shocked that he didn’t even move out of the way. He just stood there and screamed getting soaked from head to toe. Flo snatched him out of there but we both had to laugh really hard. Probably not smart to encourage him as he managed to do the same thing one more time before we left. *sigh*

Today was a driving day. We had to cover some ground on our way back so our next goal, the Picos de Europa, were a bit of a stretch for one day, with a toddler in the car. Guess we’ll see how far we get towards them. In an attempt to make stops as unnecessary as possible, we picked up bread around the corner from the camp ground and started on the daytrip.

Though one stop was a must. About 30 min from our camp ground, the cliffs of Garita de Herbeira beckoned to be visited. The cliffs are the highest in Europe, about 600 meters from where we stood into the ocean. We were lucky. The day was a bit of a rainy one and we timed it just right to be at the cliff when there was a whole in the blanket of clouds. Thus, we could actually see something.

Galicia is uncannily similar to Ireland or Scotland: Weatherwise but they also kept parts of their celtic heritage, including bagpipes. So we were standing at the rugged cliff, wisps of cloud drifting past, more fog coming up the cliffside, watching horses and their young graze around a stone building…and could have been somewhere different entirely.

Lunch was had on a motorway stop right next to wind turbine parts on trucks. It was a bit odd but luckily, the motorway was almost empty. Most of the afternoon was spent driving. Number 3 slept for a good while but started to complain once he was awake. Anyhow, Flo pushed on and we arrived at the Picos de Europa late in the afternoon.

The mountains of the Picos are beautiful. Definitely worth spending more time there than we have left. A paradise for hiking and rock climbing…and much less crowded than the Alps. Just driving through the first range to our camp ground was breath-taking already.

Super tired, we set up, ate dinner and put Baby into bed. Ready to go to bed myself, Flo suddenly found some energy to check out the camp ground’s bar. He said it was cosy and inviting, had some Spanish ham and desserts on the menu and really, we just should have one drink there. Which we did. Well, I had cheese cake which was nothing like German cheesecake but this rich, silky, yoghurt-y cream, topped with blueberry jam. It was well worth staying up for.

Ok, not quite here, but a good start
ok, even better!
So cute, he grabed Hubär to cuddle before sleep
Take a good look and hope the old people everywhere get it before they kill your future
three foals were about
Hi Mr. Horse
You sure, daddy?
long long way down
Ok, safer view
I wish the front would be powered by the back
fog came up, end of the world photo time
mommy, daddy is weird. Can I go now?
a lot of fog cam up
final viewpoint
just hanging out – is food ready?
wind power seemed the theme of the day
ok, good start
uuhh, cool drive
cool road rock fall shelter – plus intersting german tourist
I learned how this is called in Milford Sound – go me!
over 2500m tall, some of them
hmm … there would be mountains in the sky part, had I set the camera correctly …
the camp ground was deep in the valley surrounded by beatuies
almost ready for bed

Day 43 – By popular demand

Days feel like they are getting longer again. 36 hours after waking up, I can hardly remember all that has happened yesterday. That’s why we take thousands of pictures, I guess 😉

The night was calm, even though not quiet in the literal sense. I don’t know if the waterfalls steady roar helped, but we slept well. Not too cold and most importantly undiscovered and undisturbed. Breakfast was as lovely in this place as was dinner last night – although Nina might make an exception for the mozzies that came out in force while it was a bit overcast.

Number 3 dutifully obliged us on our drive to Santiago de Compostella with sleep. With the awkwardness of this being a place known primarily for being the foremost Christian pilgrimage destination looming over us, we decided to treat this as we would any other city. Sights, good food and a bit of walking to get the feel.

We did. The first thing we noticed was how much more familiar the old town felt. Heavy stone buildings that befit the Galician climate much better than would the more iconic Mediterranean and Andalusian styles of Spain and Portugal. It frankly looked a lot like home, or at least France. We decided very early on not to go into the Cathedral – we had seen our share and many more recently. The outside was … well, the usual. I guess the majesty of it all comes more to the forth after 60 or so days of pain to get here.

“The Camino” (spoken mostly in an obnoxious American accent) and general pilgrimage kitsch was omnipresent, even though not too many pilgrims arrived before lunch. On the main plaza, there were maybe 50 who just now had arrived, mixed in with a lot more tourists and people recovering. For some reason, and I will not muse too much about it out of respect for our friends who have walked the Camino themselves, I felt strong rejection welling up in me about this whole pilgrimage thing. Even though I know it is by far not purely religious (better, Catholic) thing anymore. Read up on it and make up your own mind, I guess.

We turned our attention to more relevant things for us: Food! There was a hip recommendation next to the city market halls. We headed there after a brief stroll over the market. We sat down with drinks, looking forward to some exceptional tapas but were disappointed soon after. Not a single vegetarian offering – fish, seafood or meat. I was OK to call it there, but Nina urged me to at least try some. So I went with cockles and the fish of the day offers. The portions were really no more than appetizers, but the quality was exceptional. The best clams I ever had were good enough that Number 3 helped me out quite a bit – to the surprised eyes of any onlooker. The seared fish filet was absolutely spot on as well.

After that brief delay, I was ready to go with whatever Nina would decide on. We stuck with our other choice, the one we had discarded earlier due to their late lunch hours. We only had to kill 20 more minutes, but then were the first in for lunch once more. The place was definitively more our vibe. Nina had homemade ravioli while I went with the waiter’s recommendation of pork in Galician cheese sauce without bothering with the menu. Actual lunch was good, too. We rounded the whole thing off with a sampling of the local pastry of choice (Santiago Almond tart) and the best coffee I’ve had in a while.

All that was left now was to make a bit of distance north, to end up in striking distance of our next goal, the highest cliffs of Europe. We reached our chosen camp by 4 and decided to push on a bit further and to stay on the coast for one more time. This time, everything worked out.

Packing up the camp site in the morning
Number 3 enjoyed our private waterfall
Everything needs to be packed
Goodbye campsite
Detail of a railing or fence of the cathedral in Santiago
Top of one of the towers
Gate of Santiago
A cool sign in an alley around the corner from the cathedral
Number 3 testing his strength again a small chain
We enjoyed the European flag flying next to the cathedral
He invented a game for himself: Pick daisies…
…run over to the fountain and put them up there
Urban explorer
Why does it have to be so hilly? I need a break!
A taste of great seafood
Must have been good. Baby ate six of them
Number 3 planning our next moves out of the carrier backpack
He pulled himself up on the bench
Footpath inscription
Hippie lunch place
Back at the ocean
A bit of a sunset
How we camped

Day 42 – Off the record

When we got up in the morning, it became clear: The trailer right behind us wasn’t abandoned. Oh no, we had camped right in someone’s “frontyard”. No wonder the voices seemed so close and also so amused last night. So far, nothing moved inside. We decided to pack up and have breakfast somewhere else, feeling very uncomfortable with staying in the spot we were in.

It took us until 8.15am to get ready to go…when we were halted by a closed gate, a closed reception and no one around. Flo suggested to leave 10€ as payment and then just go but the gate turned out to be locked. We couldn’t get the car out. A door for pedestrians was open however so we decided to wander around, looking for a café to have breakfast in. “Pastelaria da Ponte” was exactly the kind of thing we were looking for. It provided much needed coffee, treats and some space to get over the embarrassment that we invaded someone else’s sphere with camping last night.

We were back at 9am, sure that now we definitely could leave. The reception was still closed but miraculously, the gate was now open. Plus, a lady arrived at the same time as we did and she offered to take our payment. So we left. Having at least paid someone.

It was our last day in Portugal. Flo had picked a route through the mountains of the National park as our last bit of route and a pastelaria at the end as well. The drive was scenic and full of surprises. Suddenly everything seemed wetter, lots of green plants and waterfalls around. Number 3 slept through all of it so we just enjoyed the ride.

He woke up when we stopped at the pastelaria. I think, he’s got a motion sensor in his bum or something stupid like that. As soon as we stop, he wakes up. Flo had made sure that it was a decent bakery where we would buy our last pastel de nata but everything looked so good that we ended up buying a little extra as well as bread for our picnic lunch.

It felt like lunch time already so we had an eye out for a good spot. Flo then found a sign pointing to a picnic area. Following the road which turned into a dirt road and then into a rugged dirt road…we decided we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. But the landscape was beautiful just maybe a bit of shade would be nice for our break. Finally, we arrived at the picnic area which was by a stream with patches of birch trees and…cows. Well, young steers. Luckily, they were a bit away from the benches. I am not sure how interested they’d gotten into our lunch otherwise. We thoroughly enjoyed lunch, ending with an orange as dessert. Number 3 had a language update and does now repeat words. Oranges in particular seem to be to his liking so he often asks for them. For some reason he has decided that they are called “ayah” and cannot be dissuaded despite Flo’s and my best efforts of telling Baby that this is an orange.

Soon after, we crossed the border back into Spain. The border was ridiculous. Just a tiny, single lane bridge with the letter “E” carved into it. We are officially on our way back. It feels weird and also appropriate at the same time. Seriously going to miss pastel de nata though.

The camp ground of choice was close to a National park, not too far from Santiago de Compostela which we want to visit tomorrow. We arrived there at 3pm and looked forward to some planning of what to do on our way back. The camp ground was closed down. Not closed just now, not for the season, no just permanently closed down. The forest was very pretty though and a little river ran next to the road. We shortly discussed what to do and looked up the city camp ground in Santiago de Compostela which was the only other reasonable option. So we drove on for another 50 meters and then Flo turned around. It was 3.30pm now, the optimal time for coffee and tea and we even still had the last pastel de nata with us. So we stopped and had the best coffee break in a prime location just for ourselves. An hour passed, then nearly two. We kept finding reasons why we needed to stay a bit longer: It was so nice here, Number 3 needed to run around and explore a bit longer, the city camp ground was probably ugly and loud so it is better to spend some time here…

Finally, I stated the obvious thing. If we ever wanted to wild camp on this trip, this was probably it. We wouldn’t find a more convenient place or time to do it. It was one of Flo’s not so secret wishes that he wanted to wild camp as we had done on Home to Home. Here was the chance. Probably the only one I would grant him, so he leaped on it.

While exploring the track with Number 3, he came upon the picture perfect camp spot, next to a little waterfall. Other people had used it as a camp spot in the past as there was a little fire pit made of stones and a tiny play hut made out of dry branches.

So we stayed there. For one night off the record.

our gate crashing site
one of the two briges from here
just a great day
green all around, with springs to boot
down there, we camped
a great road as well
one of many waterfalls on the way
we actually crossed the border three times today – portugal – spain – portugal – spain.
more granite formations
reminds me of menhirs
views on the hilltops around, back in portughal
great road through the high mountains
final village in portugal
off road commuter car? Go go Blue George!
Nina loves cows 😉
no time to waste
everybody enjoying our lunch spot
right, finished
Number 3 testing his new skills
Who? Why .. this is for kids?!
I love europe. This is how we leave Portugal
perfect spot for a break, right?
first, some hot beverages
where might this track lead to?
the perfect camp spot!!
With our own private waterfall for the night!
almost cover shot material? It was a great spot, anyway!

Day 41 – Onward to the beginning

We did not find out the particular reason why this beautiful campsite was quite so abandoned. The flow of people confuses us. The price was ok – 22 € with power, so in line with other rustiek sites. Maybe it is our lack of preparation, so that we don’t quite now “where to be” and what to skip. I think we like it better that way – good things are better when they are a surprise.

There are a few more city destinations in this very northwest corner of Portugal that we can tick off, with the first one probably the highest on our list. The plan is to go to up to three of them in order and turn off east to a national park bordering Spain when it gets time to find a place to sleep.

With that, we set our sights on Guimarães – the first capital of Portugal. The way this works is pretty straight forward – Reconquista went north to south, so every 50 years or so the Don de Jour would move his seat of power a bit further down. But this is it – this is where the independent Kingdom of Portugal was sort of born. We liked it right away. In perfect weather, the medieval old town and 15^th century ducal palace were a delight. From afar as in close quarters.

We started with an overview, quite literally this time: There is another one of these steep granite hills just south of the city, with a cable lift and a road to the very top. From here, armed with ice cream, we had a great view of the city and the hills around. We took aim, both for the ducal palace and for a lunch place once we got a handle on Guimarães.

The lunch place was a revelation, maybe the coolest and most child friendly location in Portugal so far. That says something. And it was a vegetarian place to boot! Cor de Tangerine was set in a big beautiful merchant house dominated by granite features and creaky wooden floors right next to the ducal palace. The terrace had a view out over the palace and a park. The food was great, but the whole atmosphere of the location and friendly staff nudged it over the top. Number 3 got a blanket and some books draped under one of the trees on the terrace, in good view. After lunch, he even got a private tour of the kitchen!

The after lunch stroll through the old town was just the thing to round it off. The subtle difference in architecture made for an interesting change, especially with the dominance of the ageless grey granite on many buildings. After a round back to the car park (again, why would I not use them: 1.20€ for a safe and shady spot right in town) we were good to head to our next destination.

Braga, Portugal’s third largest city, had a very different vibe going, modern and lively. We timed it right for once and fell into an inner city set up for the Braga Romana festival: all the girls and some of the ladies were wearing flower circlets on their heads. Many wandering around in more or mostly less authentic roman drab. We, given that it was our tea time stop, were headed for another ice cream shop. A Lonely Planet recommendation, the ice cream was good and Nina did not complain about her chocolate cupcake either. We enjoyed the hustle and bustle around us for a bit, with more (Portuguese) kids than we had seen anywhere else so far around us.

We were good after that, decided to skip city number 3 and head for the hills. A good day was had with the drive towards a campsite at the Cavado river (which is actually a lake, due to the dam built further downstream) not disappointing either.

Things only started to turn weird when I decided to improvise at the last second. Instead of following the GPS to the campground I had picked from google, we turned into the first one at our destination. It had lake views, so why not? Well, it should have ticked us off that no one was at the reception, but rather the team doing some modernisation indicating us to “set right up, register later”. Well, we did, double checking the indicated spot with them: The site was 100 % full with permanent campers, but had a bit of space in front of a rather abandoned looking one. Yes, here … OK. I mean, the spot was nice and all, just weirdly right in front of this old caravan. Then the team started up again, dragging old caravans off their lots to a half-done area. Call for registration never came. Oh well, we’ll pay and leave in the morning then.

About 10 minutes after we went to bed, we heard what I thought to be the trash collectors. Odd, after 8 pm. Well …

And as we were about to drift to sleep, we heard cheerful voices of young men. Closing in. They started to laugh, somewhat disbelieving. Not us. Why would they? Now, they were very close, I had the feeling they were right next to us. But sound is deceiving in a tent. They might be one up, I think I saw people there earlier. Right about then, their cackling and chatting woke up Number 3, who let go a primal scream of fright. Things quieted down after that, but Nina and I were left a bit disconcerted after that. The night had just started, though …

What a lovely view to wake up to
Guess I have had my front seat stolen….
It was way steeper than it now looks
Guimaraes hilltop view
Number 3 wasn’t in picture mood
Cor de Tangerine
Cor de Tangerine menu
Number 3 was catered to…next level hospitality
The vegetarian food was good as well
Number 3 making friends
He just hung out there on the second level balcony
Life goes on in Guimaraes even if tourists take pictures
What a cute looking little house!
Guimaraes square
Guimaraes alleyway
Braga garden
This Braga dragon was just watching the crowds of “Romans” pass by
Music for the festival
Braga Romana
I’ve only ever been to medieval markets
Its all about moderation …
… but he is all his mom
see, surgar does not make them more active 😉
chill, relax … what could possibly …
… WOA … catch … ok, too late …. he was fine. bounced right up …
the “river”
why not add to the weirdness?
Mom teaching Number 3 how to use a swing. His first time on a big one

Day 40 – Good bye Douro

We had a lovely morning at the camp site and before we left we even got to chat to the owners one more time. Number 3 patted more dogs and then hung out on the swing for a while.

To make this trip east worthwhile, we decided to keep going for one more hour until Pinhão. It’s the second city in the region called Alto Duoro, the first one being super touristy. Now, we were in the wine region proper, even if we didn’t spot Graham’s vineyards. We did however see Sandemann and Taylor’s name pop up in the landscape.

I think granite formations are becoming my new favorite after …

Pinhão was “on the wrong side of Rüdesheim” to speak in Flo’s terms. Very touristy still, quite pricey and really just our point to say goodbye to the river Douro. It was lunch time though so we sat down to have an underwhelming, expensive meal somewhere at the riverfront (Flo: I know codfish is a national institution, but dry, overly salty grilled “cod-loin” is nothing to recommend).

From here on, we go north until, eventually, we leave Portugal and enter Spain again, in a couple of days. After lunch, we drove towards a camp ground on the other side of the Parque natural do Alvão. The park was super pretty again and we were glad to have come that way.

When we left again around 4pm, we found another cute café in Mondim de Basto to have pastel de nata. Again. We have to have them a couple more times before we leave. 🙂

Afterwards, we looked for the camp ground. It took us a while to find the signs leading us there as the navigation was no good in this case. The Quinta do Rio was probably the closest we have come to a DOC camp site on this trip. And we had it all to ourselves, no other guests had made their way here. Setting up our roof tent with a lovely view onto the river, we were wondering why. Is it because power is limited to solar energy and thus big camper vans are not allowed? Or simply the fact that you have to actively look for it to find it? Or is it too rustic for European tastes?

True hospitality for the whole family
Hmm, lemons fresh from the garden …
The road went up an down …
… allowing for some great vies of the valley
cool statue 😉
Almost gone …
the vinyards contiue far past the Douro valley, though
I think granite formations are becoming my new favorite after …
… so much limestone on our big trip
A little reservoir high up in the park
hmmm … I almost look human again after the Porto haircut (and some pastries)
he ate almost the whole thing …
Keeping wee one from stepping right in
I tried to force him to go barefoot again but stopped after stepping into thorns 10 seconds in …
just us – I mean even “full” this would be a great site
The pool was a spring fed old trough …
… just perfect for number 3 to explore

Day 39 – Watching the green grapes grow

To think that one minute earlier or later, we would have driven off again for another campsite. What were we thinking? A proper, do (almost) nothing rest day was the least we could do to appreciate the spectacular site.

This time we were armed with at least a little foresight and had restocked our pantry with fresh goods. Therefore lunch was an old summertime favourite: Potatoes with Tzatziki. I made it from memory, but I must have nailed it the way the rest of my family devoured it 😉

With that much time, there were, of course, some chores, but only the washing was much bother. We even had convenient washing lines already set up in the form of the supports for the vines all around us. We also got back up to date with the blog.

The day just flowed – with perfect temperatures and our prime spot on our terrace shaded by the huge awning for our Skycamp. If there were highlights, it would be the set of lovely encounters we had in the afternoon. We went up for drinks (and to sample the vino verde from this very vineyard) and as is sort of custom on these Dutch run sites had a good chat with first the owner and later with other guests. Number 3 got a good amount of dog training in with Moos and Monte, the two excellently trained dogs of the house. We learned a bit about the “green wine”, which is made from unripe or green grapes and reminded me a lot of Weißweinschorle. A dry white with a bit of sparkle. Just that here the carbon dioxide came not from sparkling water added but from natural fermentation – a bit like flat bubbly.

We also got to talk a bit to Tom – probably one of the top 5 nicest Australian I have met so far (dear Tom, be in a good mood when you read some of our Australia blogs). Since I still had a good half bottle of vino verde to finish, I invited him and his German partner back to our tent after Number 3 was put to bed. They came down, his partner Celine joining Tom. We had a good long chat, only slightly marred by Number 3 waking up around 10 pm and insisting on hanging out with us until we came to bed. He was pretty good when he was out, so we gave it a try. If he is anything like me, there will come the day when it will be pointless trying to put him to bed when company is around anyway.

Late and tired, but with some satisfaction we went to bed that night, wishing both Celine and Tom farewell (we were all leaving the next morning). Encounters like this, meeting what feels like good people (including the lovely owners) is right at the heart of why I travel. This is how we met so many of those we now call friends. First and foremost Peter and Leonie. We are really looking forward to those two in two weeks’ time as well.

Great light early in the morning
reason enough to open the window …
… and enjoy the view from bed
mist lay in the vally below us
I mentioned we did not a lot … oh, and Number 3 has a chair now
Flowers and Ants were the objects of todays study
.. oh, and dogs
not just the camps dogs …
… also the neighbours when they came over …
… to help out work the vinyard (and get distracted)
number 3 trying his skills

Day 38 – Out of steam

The last two days had been full of activity. We went to bed late last night and also after having had port wine so the morning was sloooooow. With Porto off the list, I ran out of steam. Sure, we still have a couple of days left in Portugal but what to do?

In the end, we decided to hang on to the port wine theme a bit longer. Most of the vineyards for port are in the east of Porto, up the Douro valley. The pictures we had seen yesterday were pretty, we were tired from walking around so much. The solution seemed to be a scenic drive along the Douro today.

With that in mind, we went to the first big supermarket outside of Porto that we could find and stocked up on groceries. Number 3 is not compatible with big supermarkets at the moment: He just walks around three corners and you have to search for him for ages. Thus, he was confined to the seat of the trolley this time and complained about it.

So it was noon when we actually left Porto’s vicinity. Number 3 dutifully fell asleep so we drove for an hour along the river before stopping for lunch. We actually found a picnic area this time with a bit of a view onto the river.

After lunch, the drive wasn’t nearly as pleasant anymore. Baby was not happy with only an hour out of the car and nowhere near falling asleep again. Thus, our nerves started to wear thin. Flo looked for a camp ground already. Just anything to get Baby to shut up.

Finally, finally, we arrived at the next rustic camp ground. It was 1 km over a dirt road to get to a gate that didn’t really look like a camp ground at all. It looked like a vineyard. We stopped, debated if you could stay here for a night. We surly needed electricity after Porto and this didn’t look like the right place for such amenities.

While we were sitting in the car in front of the place, a woman walking two big dogs came up the drive way. She looked at us inquiringly and we felt a bit stupid so Flo got out to talk to her. She said, she had some space for a car with a tent if Flo could check if he could get there with our car? 10 minutes later he was back and super happy. “We’re staying here. It’s the prettiest place we’ve stayed at so far. Right in between the vines!”

It turned out to be the best camp ground we have had so far. Plus, the owners are lovely, Number 3 loves the dogs and the dogs are okay to be manhandled by a baby. We even got an extension cable right into our tent for access to electricity. Set up like that, we spent the evening calling our German friends and playing some games.

Eat banana with fork, what else would you use?
Dad was super concentrated on something important … the bread
View down the Duoro – the main bit only starts about 100 km inland
we noticed now that we only took photos …
… of the steep but easy bits, not the hairpins 😉
well, alt least from positioning into our spot
two tired monkeys in the rooftop cave
No great angle to capture it, but the spot was spectacular
views all round and down to the Douro valley
hmm … I think there was chocolate on those cookies …
spectacular, even after dark

Day 37 – A fine vintage

Sleep was good – I think. Given our itinerary for today, I shall be excused if I get some of the details wrong. I had the presence of mind to make a reservation for our port wine lodge of choice last night, and the confirmation arrived this morning: 4:15 pm at Graham’s Lodge, English guided tour and tasting. We will get to that …

We got off for a really late start – first some catching up on the blog. Then, we had to wait 20 minutes for the bus (going every 15 minute …). At least it was really quick getting into town. Our starting point was right behind the train station. We figured we could use this to explore further out and up, away from the river, compared to our downward stroll of yesterday.

But first, pastries! We passed a set of the cutest shops, one with great mini versions of some of our favourite pastries. Nina went with mini-pastel de nata and mini-éclair de chocolat. Oh, and given the late start we decided to go straight from here to lunch! The stroll was once again pretty captivating – coming from the Sé (cathedral) down through the narrow winding lanes of Ribeira. There is a lot of construction, mostly renovations, going on all around. But decay is still a dominate feature of this part of town. Empty, half torn down houses and dwellings that evoke Cuba and other former colonial subjects. Ten or twenty years ago, this kind of neighbourhood would probably have been considered a slum. The pressure of money is palpable, but so is the spirit of an active neighbourhood resisting. For now it seems that a balance is struck, resisting total Disney- and gentrification.

Which leads nicely into our lunch spot: A super hip vegan buffet restaurant where the plate & drink combo costs roughly as much as the weekly rent of one of the places two streets over. Sue us, it was still pretty good and super kid friendly to boot. We appreciate a good vegetarian / vegan meal. If there was something to nag on then it would be the slightly too preachy vibe that too often comes with vegan food (the word cleansing was mentioned in the menu).

After lunch, we headed for a triple combo of hipster-geek-history charm. Ticket number 2 on the Lonely Planet for Porto is this neo-gothic bookshop in a very hip part of town. Ever since its rise to next level fame by inspiring J. K. Rowling with its eye-catching twisting staircase and taking some inspiration for the Harry Potter books while working as an English teacher between ‘91 and ’93. Nowadays, it is mostly a tourist attraction, although the 5€ entrance fee are still a valid voucher for any purchase from the solid inventory. We almost did not go due to the line, but once again were singled out with a triple insurance of “baby first” and strict instructions to skip the line. We even met our power-bank helpers from the campground and were able to pass that secret handshake on to them (i.e. use baby to skip line).

Finding a coffee and pastry stop before the tour proved to be a bit more of an obstacle, afterwards. We did however find a hipster enough place to finally get me that haircut that was overdue since probably a month before we left. It was the real deal, complete with other twisted-mustachioed patrons and two guys collapsing in to clean up after walking the whole camino. We also, kind of last minute, find a place where Nina could replenish on much needed sugar and black tea.

It almost got stressful then when we took the bus to get over to the port lodge, with the bus sitting in traffic for a long time. We started early enough though, and made it with 3 minutes to spare. In that excitement, picking the selection for the tasting was done pretty much shooting from the hip. Since I already tried my way all the way up to 30 year old tawny from Graham’s, I felt a change of pace was in order and went with the super premium vintage collection – and Nina with the considerably cheaper premium vintage collection. 60 € for six “shots” – this better be good.

Graham’s was recommended by the Lonely Planet and we noticed why. The whole Lodge was done up recently and just had the perfect feel to it. It was interesting and somewhat strange in a nice kind of way. It looked almost staged, but this was the place where Graham’s branded port is stored to age. 7 million litres of it, actually. I could touch a 100 year old barrel with 30 year old port in it. We were led through the vault, with the oldest bottle in there being from 1864! The guide was great as well. Our worries for going with the brand we knew best were quickly forgotten – and it turned out that most port brands are owned by the same family anyway.

We even managed to not get shamed into feeling too impostery by the well-dressed American tourists occasionally sneering at our hobo-with-baby look. Well, my bills are as green as yours, it turned out and we left half of them behind in the tasting room for the plebs. See, the choice of tasting menu decides the venue. We bought ourselves into the vintage room, sporting as the website says a “feel of a fine private club”. Not even Number 3 had the potential to bring that down all the way. I don’t care – we had an absolute blast, with a detailed introduction of each of or tastings. With the rest of our group sitting with us, we had almost all the offerings on the table. Ultimately, we were really happy with our selection. We would never have bought a bottle of one of these, but being able to sample them was great. The vintage ports are much more like rubys in their character. They are not aged in oak barrels like tawnys and thus retain a lot of their freshness. Yet one could clearly make out the effect of aging in the bottle between the lot we had (I had vintages from 1983, 2000 and 2016, Nina had an LBV, crusted and a vintage 2005). Maybe someday we will go for the ultimate decadence of vintage tawnys (single year oak barrel aged).

We had to buy at least one bottle then – given the extra 10% discount we got from our Porto card to boot. I went with a straight table wine from one of the owners’ vineyards while Nina struck a bargain with a 1982 vintage bottled last year. See, Graham’s is official supplier for the Queen and whenever there is a merry occasion they get a request to bottle some certain vintage. So the 1982 was bottled in 2018 in celebration of Prince Harry’s marriage. What a bloody weird thing to come from simple Portuguese grapes on bad soil.

Is anything after this really still relevant? We had a blast … (ok, one more thing – took the wrong bus and we had to walk off some of our buzz for 2 km to get back to camp).

View onto Ponte De Dom Luis I
Front view of the cathgedral
Seagull on a high perch
Top of a memorial column
Small plaza we stumbled upon
More cool street art
Cool little alleys, lots of decay
Flo really liked this building
What an amazing stair case!
And many people taking pictures
Looking at books to purchase
Glass-stained ceiling in the bookstore
Flo and Number 3 on the staircase
Graham’s lodge
In the wine cellar
Giant casks
Stacked barrels
Close-up barrels
Ledger in the cellar
The oldest bottle is from 1864!
Port wine tasting
Number 3 was very interested in the glasses but…NOPE
Ruby port
The oldest bottle on sale…for 8600€ or 600€ a glass
View from Graham’s lodge
Close up of the Ponte de Dom Luis I
View onto the South side of the river Douro

Day 36 – Booze town

It was Number 3’s worst night yet. I don’t know, he just woke up and up and up again. In the end, the app said, he had 4.45 hours of sleep that night. If he had that little sleep than I had as little as well.

Groggy, we climbed out of the tent and down the ladder in the morning. But we had breakfast booked at the campsite so we just had to survive packing first. We weren’t as fast as we wanted to be but still took some time to talk to the NZ couple on a motorbike a bit more. Then, we headed out for breakfast.

I knew my expectations shouldn’t have been high and I somehow still managed to be disappointed. Probably by the utter lack of jam for breakfast. Given the choice between cold meats and cheese, I choose something sweet. Thus, Flo was nice enough to get our own jam out of the car so I can have breakfast.

Today’s mission was to get to Porto. Portugal’s second biggest city is our last big ticket item on the list. Probably since Mat and Liz introduced us to port wine and Port Night, going to Porto and tasting port wine became a thing in our minds. And now was the time to do it.

Being so tired we couldn’t be bothered to find a way around the toll road and add extra time to the journey. We just paid the toll and were in Porto in under 2 hours. Before lunch, with a good couple of hours before we needed to find a camp ground for the night. Thus, we started to explore the city.

Parking somewhere on the south bank of the river Douro, we were in walking distance to the inner city. The first thing that we came across was a cable car up a nearby hill. A short check in the guide book told us that it’s a thing to do to get views over the city and river so we hopped into it straight away. A good start already.

From the cable car, we took the amazing bridge over the Douro. On foot. The bridge actually has two levels: The upper one is for the metro and pedestrians taking in the views nowadays, the lower level is for cars, buses and more pedestrians.

On the other side of the river, we realized just how much it reminded us of Wellington. The inner city is walkable without problems, everything is close by actually. It is rather hilly and you go up and down and back up again. And it was just…charming. And compact. Of all the cities we visited lately, Porto is probably the one we liked most. More than Lisbon and Barcelona. It’s just…nice to spend time here.

From the Ponte de Luís I it is about 50 meters to the Sé, Porto’s cathedral. It was lunchtime though and we were hungry. So we went to a hipster restaurant to enjoy some proper food. The waitress shook her head when I told her I’m vegetarian and I had to go with starters and side dishes. We thoroughly enjoyed it anyway. 🙂

After lunch, we stuck to our guns and decided to walk around for the first day as it had worked well for us in Lisbon. The Lonely Planet suggested a walking tour and we stuck to it. A detour to the train station was necessary to change baby’s diaper. So we got to see the artfully hand painted tiles’ in there as well. On Rua da Flores we ended up in a café with more pastel to eat.

But Porto is all about port wine, really. Vila Nova de Gaia on the south bank is full of wine lodges, each sprouting a big name in port wine. Tours and tastings are advertised everywhere, in every shop, every café, every bar. In the chocolate place, I ended up buying a dark chocolate filled with port wine ganache. Made with Graham’s Six Grape port wine.

At 4pm, we headed out to find a camp for the night. Preferably one with a bus connection back into the city so that tomorrow, we could visit a lodge.

The first one was already completely full. Flo dreaded the next one as it had bad ratings on the usual websites. They had space though. It’s a municipal camp ground and they were suckers for bureaucracy. It was the first place that Number 3 needed papers to be allowed to stay. Everywhere else, Flo and my national ID card was enough; here Baby needed his passport.

We rolled our eyes but it did it, went to a patch that looked okay and started to pitch the tent. We had booked electricity for the two compulsory nights so a staff member came by to connect us. When he saw that we wanted to have electricity in a tent, he outright refused to connect us. We never had a problem with this in more than a month of travelling…here, no way. So we were stuck here for two nights and a full day without electricity to charge cell phones, laptops and the camera. Our mood hit rock bottom.

Just when we were debating on leaving again, we got company. One of the fellow campers wanted to have a look into our roof tent. When he learned why we were so upset, he lent us his powerbank to charge our phones at least. Later, he also charged our camera battery in his camper. So kind!