Perfect Porto

So, our six days in Portugal are nearly over. A day on a bus. A day in our room. A day on foot. A day of going separate ways and a dead phone which makes for great drama. A day at the airport. (We tried to fly standby home today, but the flight was full.) Poor us. Another day in paradise.

Fortunately, we left the airport by 1:00 pm and the Urban Sketcher Symposium is still going strong so Skip was able to rejoin his friends and is now blissfully sketching City Hall at the very top of Praça da Liberdade.

I am sitting under cover at a nearby McDonald’s sipping a quite nice, albeit tiny, cafe latte. And writing this post.

Porto is probably the most beautiful city I have ever seen. I believe I can say this without hyperbole. It’s clean. It’s historic. It sits on a mountain near the ocean AND a river. It’s beautifully manicured and life is in order here. The climate allows for the abundant growth of pretty much every plant I can imagine.

There are no words to describe this place.

We toured a port wine cellar on Thursday. It was a very nice presentation of the history and process of wine making, the differences in types of wine, white, red, rose, and tawny (which I had never heard of) followed by a tasting. But I particularly enjoyed the cool cavelike rooms they store the casks of wine in.

This one is older than me.

We walked down a hill that was SO STEEP I was clinging to the walls. I am not kidding!

I don’t know if you can tell from this picture but that’s pretty much straight down. We prevailed. It was the only thing that was between us and Starbucks and we were not backing down.

So. Come to Porto. Try the food with an open mind. Bring your walking shoes. And sign up for Uber. Uber has saved me. Thank you, Uber. I love you.

Porto. A Preliminary Report.

PORTO, Portugal. A place I have known little about until now. It wasn’t necessarily even on our list. But my husband is an Urban Sketcher and they’re holding an Urban Sketcher Symposium in town this week so here we are. And it’s slightly out of our comfort zone.

Between the language and the food, we have been a little lost. Lol. Do you know that the Portuguese language is extremely similar to Spanish? Yet ask any Portuguese person you meet and they will tell you they’re nothing alike.

Yes. Sí. Sím.
Why. Porque. Porque.
House. Casa. Casa.
Dead. Muerto. Morto.
How. Como. Como.
You get the idea.

Anyways, Spanish, which I have been vigorously studying, is no help.

The food, which literally everyone has told me is the best in the world, has been unusual. Of course! It’s Portuguese! It’s completely foreign to us. I enjoyed my Francesinha (hubs did not) and he ordered the cod (bacalhau) last night which was almost like tuna tetrazzini and I thought it was great, him not so much.

Francesinha- sandwich with cheese & sauce
Bacalhau (cod). Possibly served other ways too.

We ate lunch at a lovely seaside café yesterday and I ordered shrimp and quinoa paella which was delicious, but he ordered a hamburger and was unimpressed. I think maybe he’s getting old and cranky.

Shrimp and Quinoa Paella. Very good.

Also, we are both getting old and CREAKY. Things crackle and pop. This place is built on a mountainside. I look out our (third floor with no elevator) giant 18th century apartment windows and the young people are practically running effortlessly up this hill outside that I will have trouble going down. Porto is not for the old, weak and faint of heart.

Having said all that, THIS PLACE IS LOVELY BEYOND YOUR WILDEST DREAMS. It’s amazing and we love it. Haha. Had you going, didn’t I?!

The Pointe de Don Luis I Bridge

Yesterday we did the Hop On Hop Off Bus Tour and it was fabulous. The weather here is as close to perfect as weather can be. I’m a little sunburned, but I don’t care. I enjoyed the cool breeze in the bright sun for about three hours (we circled the city twice) and I have no regrets.

Don Pedro IV, Praça de Liberdade, Porto, Portugal

Today the conference began so my husband has been gone since about noon and I’ve chosen to stay close and rest. BUT TOMORROW I’m taking the train tour, the river tour, and two wine cellar tours. So expect to hear all about it on Friday… when I will probably need another day of rest!

La Paz Waterfall Gardens

The 15 passenger van is careening around curves and buses and school children and parked cars and hairpin turns. Oddly, we are careening UP the mountain. The roads are two lanes: no shoulder, no guard rails. We are traveling at maintained speeds of at least 40 miles per hour and only stop when we are impossibly blocked by other vehicles. The van is cool; the air conditioning is on full blast the entire two hour trip. This is a good thing, because I am getting a little nauseous and if it were warm in the bus there may have been an incident.

We are heading to La Paz Waterfall Gardens, just north of Alajuela in Central Costa Rica. Just a little day trip. My driver, Ray, is competent, even skilled, and the danger I sense is real, but no worse for us than any other vehicle on the road. Our guide, Arlin, and the other passengers, a mother and adult daughter from Mexico and a couple from Argentina, are relaxed and talking, seemingly unaware that the edge of the road drops directly into a deep ditch which would flip us over and send us hurling down the beautiful jungle mountainside should our driver miss the road by anything more than 12 inches.

My husband and I are in San Jose for a sketch workshop he is attending. So while he is walking the streets of San Jose, I am taking this tour alone. The traveling together is fun and good, but he loves to sketch and can spend hours doing so. I ultimately end up entertaining myself for several hours at a time or sometimes full days. Today is one of those days.

Recently I’ve been working intensely on my Spanish. I spoke Spanish fluently as a child because I was raised with a Spanish speaker in my home. But as I grew older I used it less and less and I’ve spent more time trying to get it back than it took me to lose it -many times over. Sometimes I can barely remember English words, lol, so remembering Spanish words can be a challenge. But fortunately I understand it better than I speak it. Since the entire tour group (besides me) were Spanish speakers, we got this tour in Spanish. All day, for ten hours, Spanish in the jungle. I had told our guide that if I missed anything I would ask questions and it worked out wonderfully.

Upon arrival at La Paz Waterfall Gardens, we were treated to a personal tour of the animal sanctuary. This is a beautiful place with photo ops galore. It’s like a small San Diego zoo… only the zoo is exactly where the animals would have originally been found. Lush and green, lovely walkways and enclosures, the nature park and animal sanctuary is a perfect place to spend a day.

After a buffet lunch of local cuisine and typical American fare, we headed toward the falls.

I was a little concerned about taking this trip because I don’t get around as well as I used to. Warnings abound on the tourist sites mentioning the level of difficulty. Not for the first time, I found the warnings to be overstated. In fact, all I had packed for our trip to Costa Rica were some heavy-soled flip flops and that’s what I wore. I was fine. My takeaway is wear whatever shoes are comfortable to you and you’re good to go.

There are a LOT of steps. These warnings of internet lore are true. The upside is most of them are downward. You start at the top, walk down, and a shuttle takes you back to the top of the park. It’s really not too hard and there are handrails the entire walk.

We didn’t experience any rain (yay!) but it is typical for it to rain at some point, so bring along a raincoat or poncho.

This is a perfect trip for people like me, who are not hikers and backpackers, to get out and experience the jungle in the mountains. Don’t let the internet tourist warnings about the difficulties put you off. I saw lots of people older than me and dozens of school children taking the walking in stride. Unless you’re in a wheelchair, you’ll be fine!

My warning to you is this: the ride up and down the mountain is the hardest part. If you are prone to carsickness, don’t stare at your phone or read, try to get a seat towards the front of your tour van or bus, and keep your eyes on the horizon! You will pass coffee plantations, strawberry fields, cow pastures, cute villages and school children walking along the road. As hard as the ride was, the ride was almost my favorite part. I highly recommend this tour.

¡Pura Vida! 🇨🇷

Traveler or Tourist?

We’ve been traveling more in recent years and eventually we decided to be more intentional about our travels and really see as much of the world as we can. And as a result, we decided to start this blog.

Of course, one of the first things you do when you start a blog is come up with a name. You’ve got to have a brand, a handle, or something that folks can refer to when they’re looking for you and (hopefully) telling others about you. We discussed options for hours, pros and cons, is it clever, had it been used, and finally came up with Tumbleweed Tourists. Love it. It suits us.

Imagine my surprise when I learned a few weeks later that “Tourist” is a derogatory term! I stumbled across a blog the other day numbering all the ways tourists are obnoxious dweebs and travelers are sophisticated eaters of local cuisine who stay out of the way and love all cultures.

I continued to read more blogs, and even news articles about how tourists are. I searched the Twittersphere for others with the ‘tourist’ handle. And I decided to stand my ground. We are tourists. But we are NOT Ugly American Tourists.

Call yourself a traveler if you like. I’ll keep calling myself a tourist. But if you’re like me, neither of these labels mean anything to us because we are, simply put, people. People who love the world enough to go and see it. Those of us who travel go to great effort and expense to experience other cultures and see landmarks and meet people and learn other ways of thinking – in the end, in my humble option, we are all the same.

So rather than divide us into tourists and travelers, let’s list a few things which keep us on the list of folks which the locals love to see coming.

  • We try to blend in, but we retain our uniqueness.
  • We try new foods, and even if we don’t like them, we smile and say thank you and appreciate the experience. (You can now forever tell people you tried blood pudding and it wasn’t that bad.)
  • We try to learn a little of the language and we do our best to use it.
  • We try to learn a little about the culture ahead of time and we refrain from offending as much as humanly possible.
  • We try to spend a little time with the locals.
  • We smile, we say thank you, we appreciate, and we praise, as is appropriate to the culture.

There’s more, but you get the idea. It’s the same as in life: Leave people glad they met you. That’s all anyone can ask!