April 19, 2017
April 19, 2017 - Porto: I like meeting my 2003 self
Hotel: Hotel Peninsular (right at the São Bento Train Station)
- Brussels, Belgium.
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FAIRLY uneventful flight from Toronto to Brussels, but I have to say that whoever created the Brussels Airlines marketing plan had a great sense of humour. Every bit of packaging had a witty line about its contents. Photos hopefully to follow.
Unfortunately, the packaging witicisms did not alleviate the discomfort of the crammed seats. Stretching out in airport benches and walking the terminals is getting the blood out of my feet and flowing again!
Almost no Douro dabbling til a saviour stepped in. But I am too tired to explain. Will fill in from Vila Nova da Foz Coa tomorrow.
Though a long bunch of travel legs to get to Porto, everything went swimmingly. The flight to Porto was amazing with its views across the Picos de Europa. Upon arrival to Porto it was no time at all to get to the baggage claim. Oversized had the bikes and all seems well.
A really nice aspect of the Porto airport is that the metro has a line that originates and terminates there. I did not quite get the ticket validation part right; nevertheless, the increasingly busy train headed into the city to the Trindade stop where the transfer quickly got us to Sao Bento and up into a sunny, warm, musical and people-filled area adjacent to the stunning Sao Bento train station. The one with the azulejos in the entrance.
Mr. GPS showed the way to this former nun's residence, azulejos-filled lobby now a hotel. I wanted the bike assembly done to make sure nothing was damaged or missing... all was fine.
Next stop - Sao Bento station for train tickets to Pocinho. 'No', said the information office. 'No bikes on that train.' I asked if there were options and he just shrugged his shoulders and repeated that trains along the Douro do not allow bikes. The same was true of buses. For a country that is opening up greatly to cycling with rails to trails and paths, it was mysteriously odd that this famed route is almost preventing them.
Despite having corresponded with the train people via email and having a local phone them to find that usually bikes are allowed now I was in the unusual, and unknown-to-me situation of having come for a bike tour only to find I have a string of booked hotels with no cycling means of getting to them.
Asking at the bus station, I found taxi estimates of from 200€ to 250€ for the one way trip. Way too much. Then another idea. Back at the hotel the staff said they knew people who have taxis. After 15 to 20 tense minutes (for me, at least) they had a 'yes' as well as a price. I was fearing 250€ but the amount was a heart-warming 150€ from door-to-door at whatever time was chosen, 9:30 am in this case. Whew! Dodged a bullet, here. No wonder another couple I read about headed north instead of east from here. They couldn't get on a train!
- Porto, Portugal.
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With my worries now dissipated, I was free to relax. And eat. And sip some Portuguese red wine. And so it was.
Around to the Ambassador restaurant then some APs (artsy photos... thanks to sister Shelley's and my trip to Extremadura, Spain, in 2001) in and around the Sao Bento area. Until the sky started to light up with lightning, boom with thunder, and sprinkle with some kind of wet substance that is not actually permitted on this trip!
- Porto, Portugal.
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It would have been nice to head to the riverside for touristic meanderings, APs, and general exploration. But tonight it was not to be. Rather, in a week's time, upon the completion of the Dabble of Douro, there will be some time to explore before heading south on the train.
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