A continuation of shorthand memories from The Runaway Bride (and Groom): Our honeymoon this last November. Read the introduction and first three days here.
Had a late morning in bed. Watched news about Trump and fell back asleep waiting for Ber. Ber brought muffins and fresh rolls.
Rode bikes to the chapel “capelo” on the beach at the next village over.
Spent a lot of time watching the waves, taking pictures and making friends with Amadeu the dog who ate my yellow rose I had found on the ground, who then acted like we all had always been best friends forever.
Ber was mesmerized by the waves. His first time at the ocean! But I could have watched them for hours as well, and well, that’s exactly what we did.
In need of a bathroom we drank something at the closest hut and then rode the bikes a few meters away where we had more amazing seafood. Fried codfish and potatoes. Wasn’t AS amazing tasting as the other night but still amazing plus the presentation and cheesecake afterwards was superb. The rain came while we were there.
We left close to sunset and walked our bikes along the boardwalk watching the sun go down behind the chapel. Took lots of pictures. Thanked God together for the beauty and nice time.
Went back to “our” beach and sat in the dark awhile. Then went to the beach house around 6pm. Had a warm shower and climbed into bed, the warmest spot.
We woke up around 8. Went to the bakery to get breakfast to go. They said they could make the coffee to go (other places we asked in the fishing village had said no), and it was served to us in doubled plastic beer cups. Thanks to a miscommunication we ended up with an extra coffee (the burnt popcorn kind). Took our breakfast to the beach and enjoyed the sun shining for the first time since our arrival there. Ber put his feet in.
It was a busy Sunday morning in the village. Cafes were full and fresh fish were being brought in by the fisherman for the people lined up waiting for it. People eyed us and sometimes laughed when we ordered things. It didn’t feel too bad, they seem mostly entertained.
We went back to the beach house, packed up, cleaned up and said goodbye to our very sweet hosts. (Gave them some swiss chocolate). The beach house exceeded our expectations and the whole experince seemed very authentic.
The ticket machine stole 3.70 of our change so we got on the train back to Porto without a a ticket. Bought from the ticket man on the train. The price of one ticket for 40 minutes was 1.70 per person.
Had to explain to Ber that buster and bastard are NOT the same word. I think I had called him buster and then later he called me bastard. I assured him that is NOT what I had said.
Later on the metro Ber asked me if he should say he “crushes me” or “crashes on me” or “crushes on me”. The language barrier proves as entertaining as it is challenging sometimes. To be fair, I’m amazed at the English expressions he does know for it being one of his 4 languages :O (Swiss German makes 4 if you count it as one of its own and I DO!)
From the train station we walked to the cathedral for an amazing view of the city.
Then we walked to our next Airbnb. Arrived early so sat on the steps and ate sandwiches. Ber fed a seagull and suddenly there was with the seagull a multitude of heavenly hosts singing, “More crumbs, more crumbs”.
Suddenly there was also seagull poop on Ber’s leg. A HUGE spot of green and white. Luckily we had wipes with us. I rejoiced (i.e. laughed my head off ) at the much deserved consequences of his actions.
Got prettied up and went out again in the evening to a wine cellar. Chose Croft out of the many to choose from, because they invented the new pink port. Tried 3 kinds of port.
Woke up on our last day in our cute little Airbnb in the side of the hill. walked across the Douro River to see the Monastery.
Ate a Francesinha. A traditional smothered, cheese wrapped sandwich
Went shopping. Bought everything. It was so cheap and the day before my birthday. 🙂
Went for a romantic, beautiful boat ride on the Douro, going under all the bridges until the river reached the ocean.
Went back to our little Airbnb in the side of the hill to eat our last dinner in Porto in, but not before kissing one last time underneath the super moon.
Woke up at 3:30 AM to get to the airport on time. Got there with time to spare and even found shops open where we could buy some port to take home with us. Yes, we enjoyed our port. No, I’ve not become Hungarian in my drinking habits… But if I ever do, most of the Hungarians I know will want to take the credit for it, haha…
The details I chose to record both bewilder me and crack me up. If you survived the honeymoon details, maybe you’re ready to just have a look around Porto for yourself?