Granada

On Friday morning, we successfully staged our escape from Tangier. We got a taxi at our hotel at 6 am and took a 7 am ferry back across the straight to Spain. At last, Nathan's eyes were safe and we were in a land where we could leave our hotel without locals attempting to force us into this or that shop or restaurant. In Spain, we boarded the train from Algeciras to Granada. (Granada photos here.)

The rail trip through this section of southern Spain reminded me of southern California. For about an hour we wound through hills and canyons that took me back to Malibu Canyon and the Santa Monica Mountains. As we approached Granada, we rode though a large valley with miles of olive trees and citrus orchards, as well as many acres of solar projects (for which Spain is one of the leading nations in the world).

I liked Granada quite a bit, and several friends from college studied abroad there, so it was fun to see the city and university where they spent their semesters in Europe. The city is nestled into hillsides on the lower slopes of Spain's Sierra Nevada Mountains (a couple of which even had a bit of snow, even if it was about 90 degrees outside). Our hostel informed us that at 90 or 95F, it was the coolest weather they had seen all summer.

On our first afternoon, we went to see the Granada Cathedral, which was beautiful and full of light. Like many of the old cathedrals on the Iberian Peninsula, it was built over the site of a former Moorish mosque. Outside of the cathedral, there were vendors selling a wide range of loose teas, and the street was full of their aromas.

My main reason for wanting to visit Granada was to visit the Alhambra, a large Moorish compound and the height of Islamic architecture in Spain. It was neat to see this within a few days of visiting the Alcazar in Seville, as the two are both great fortresses built by the Moors when they ruled Spain (also, both are UNESCO World Heritage sites, as well). The Alhambra sits upon a steep hill in the middle of the town, and Granada's distinct neighborhoods (barrios) are largely characterized by where they lie in relation to the Alhambra. Our barrio was Centro, which is right next to the university--La Universidad de Granada.

We booked our tickets from the States well in advance, and I would advise doing this, as the Alhambra is the most visited tourist attraction in Spain. The compound also contains the very special building called the Nasrid Palace, which was the home of the region's ruling Sultans, and when you book your tickets, you must choose a special time to walk through that.

Some common themes among all of the great Islamic architecture we have seen in southern Spain and Morocco are the beautiful gardens and the extreme attention to detail and craftsmanship. Also, I should explain that one reason why these structures are so different from traditional European churches or castles is that in Islam, it is not appropriate to depict God or Mohammed, so instead of statues and elaborate paintings, these structures feature many geographic shapes and symbols.

(Side note--as I am typing this, it is 7:30 am and I'm watching the sun rise over the Mediterranean while going 200 km/h on the train to Barcelona. Pretty cool if you're a nerd like me.)

The Alhambra was very impressive, and at one time the walls held a fairly self-contained city. The Generalife features beautiful gardens, the Alcazaba was essentially an armory, and the Nasrid Palace was for the sultans.

Later, after Moorish rule had ended, Charles V built a palace within the compound's walls. The palace is a huge circle with a large center courtyard, and I wondered if it was intended to remind one of the coliseum or a bull-fighting ring. Today, this structure houses and art museum and a museum of artifacts from the Alhambra.

We finished the Alhambra after about four hours, and then we explored some of the city's neighborhoods. The Albayzín district sits on a hillside across the river from the Alhambra, and it offers spectacular views of the compound from the outside. Following the river upstream a bit, we ventured into Barrio Sacromonte, a neighborhood in which a number of residents make their homes in caves in the hillsides.

Our last few hours in Granada were spent at the hostel, where we repacked a bit and caught up on e-mail. Our hostel, El Granado, was very nice and clean, and Nathan and I actually had a full apartment with separate sleeping areas and a kitchen. On top of that, the hostel offered laundry service, so for 10€, they did all my laundry from our first two weeks! That was pretty amazing.

After dinner, we caught our overnight train for the 7-hour trip north to Valencia. These are nice--the beds are quite comfortable, you don't lose a day traveling, and you don't need a hotel or hostel for the night. At about 6 am we arrived in Valencia, and that short post will be next.

- R

Tangier, Morocco

On Thursday morning, we woke up early and took the morning ferry across the Straight of Gibraltar to Tangier, Morocco (pics here).

After coming into port, we took a cab to our hotel, La Tangerina, which was a very charming building in the middle of the Kasbah, the walled-off royal compound. The hotel has ten rooms that overlook the Mediterranean and provide sights over to the southern coast of Spain. It is decorated with art, furniture, and old luggage (trunks, etc.) that remind one of the film Casablanca. Since Moroccan time is two hours earlier than Spain, when we arrived at our hotel, it was time for breakfast, and we were treated to a beautiful breakfast up on the rooftop terrace: fresh-sqeezed orange juice, some type of Moroccan pancake, an airy type of chocolate cake, watermelon, coffee, and croissants.

Next, it was time to explore the city a bit. We expected pushy salesmen and busy markets, but I think our experience went well beyond anything we could have expected.

First, we walked through a distinctly non-touristy neighborhood. I was struck by the amount of broken building materials and trash everywhere on the hillsides. (We actually saw a local man walk out to a hillside with a bag of trash and just throw it over.) We walked through an open food market in the neighborhood, where in about 30 seconds chickens went from happily clucking about to defeathered, gutted, beheaded, and ready for cooking. There were also fish sitting out in the warm air, as well as many beautiful fruits, vegetables, and spices. In this neighborhood, I paid a man with a sewing machine 3 euro (I offered 5, he said 2, and I made him take 3) to mend the strap on my backpack. Now it should hold for the rest of the trip.

After this, we made our way to the Medina, the old city, and went to the more central (and touristy) marketplace. When you enter a market like this in Tangier, almost invariably, someone tries to spark up a conversation with you and figure out which language you speak. That person's job is essentially to talk to you and walk you through the market as if they are assisting you in some way, but really they are trying to push you to their shop. They are quite persistent, and if you ignore them or refuse to comply, they become angry.

In round one, a man walked with us for several blocks as if he was just showing us around the market in the middle of the Medina, the old city. Soon enough, it became clear that he was leading us ever closer to his shop. Upon reaching the doorway, Nathan and I refused to enter. He sold a lot of nice Moroccan souvenirs and nice silver pots and such, but obviously Nathan and I are not looking to pick up anything like that while we are over here. "Why you have the paranoia? Why you paranoid? Why you have the paranoia?"

He wanted us to go up to the "rooftop terrace" to see the view. This is a common tactic. They are not trying to harm you or anything, but they try to get you into an upper room or into the back of the shop where they try to sell you a lot of things you don't particularly want or need while you're in a situation where it is very awkward to leave without spending your dollars or euros. Most tour groups here end in a shop with expensive rugs and jewelry, and it becomes very awkward if you do not drop some cash.

Nathan and I left and started back-tracking the windy streets at a brisk pace, our new friend following us asking, "Why you paranoid? Why you have the paranoia? It's a nice shop!" His brother was following about 20 feet behind. That was a nice touch. Our friend was walking next to me telling me that I'm a nice guy, but Nathan is not. I'm glad he recognized that, at least. He kept telling me that Nathan had the paranoia, and if I kept going with him, it was not going to do good things for me. Eventually we were about a block outside of the market, and I think he could see we weren't coming back, so he turned around to go after the next group. Thus concludes act one of pushy Moroccan salesmen. (And somewhere in there, I was able to eat two cactus bulbs. Basically, they cut away the outer covering and there is actually delicious, seedy pulp inside. You might compare it to passionfruit.)

After visiting the museum (which featured Moroccan men with Miley Cyrus ringtones--Party in the USA!), it was time to find some lunch. We were walking to a restaurant that our hotel had recommended when a man came up to us and wanted to be our guide to the restaurant.

Reed: Thank you, we're just walking, we don't need a guide.

Man: Where you going? You want restaurant? I take you to good restaurant. You staying at La Tangerina? I am night security there. (The odds of this being true seemed distinctly low.)

R: No, thank you, we're just walking. We don't need a guide.

M: Why you do this? You disrespectful. You no walk that way. It's Ramadan. It's dangerous. (Then he kept trying to take us down another street to a restaurant.)

R: Why is that way dangerous?

M: Jankies. (Junkies--likely drug addicts here for access to opium.)

R: Look, you need to understand that when we visit other cities, no one tries to take us around. Aren't we free to just walk around?

M: You are not free here.

Nathan: We're just looking around.

M: "Just looking around." Don't you do this to me. I am not a fool. I am 57-****ing years old. I spend 15 years in the Sahara. You understand? Why you say this to me, "Just looking around"? I know you. You are just here to smoke the hash.

N: Excuse me?

M: "Just looking around." You just looking around, like Obama wants to look around Iraq. Is that it? You want to know what it's like, so you come here? You just looking around Iraq, and you want to look around here? Why you treat me like this? Let me tell you, you treat us like ****, we going to treat you like ****.

(Meanwhile, I start thinking, "Hmmm . . . this is not going well.")

N: Let's just go back to the hotel and ask for directions. We'll just head back to the hotel. (The man called his bluff a bit, and he stuck with us until about 10 feet before the door, where he really tried to get us to stop and then turned around and rushed back down the street.)

M (to Nathan): Don't you give me this. You treat me like ****. Why you do this? If I see you again, I cut your eyes out. I know your face. I will remember your face."

Understandably, at this point Nathan had pretty much had it with Tangier. Now let me be clear, we were not ever really in danger. The hotel manager said she has had problems with that man before, and she has yelled at him for telling people that he works for the hotel. She also told me that the laws here are extremely protective of tourists and that there are severe punishments for stealing from or harming a tourist. For example, stealing anything from a foreigner visiting Morocco gives one an immediate 5-year prison sentence. She assured us that nothing could happen to us, but you could imagine that we did not feel wonderful about going back outside right then. We opted to hang out on the roof for the rest of the afternoon, and then we had a great Moroccan dinner at the hotel.

Unfortunately, the wonderful stories do not end there. Before dinner, I was sitting near the hotel office to use the wifi and write a bit about Seville, and some local kid spat on me through the open window. Charming.

The day ended well, however. On the roof, we had a delicious dinner of salad, regional vegetables (carrots and something that was likely related to eggplant), and Moroccan chicken cooked with olives and onions. Also, we had heard the prayer calls ringing from the towers throughout the day, but now it is Ramadan, a month during which Muslims do not eat until sundown each day. The final prayer call took place during dinner and lasted for roughly 25 minutes.

Tangier was certainly interesting, but in light of how we were treated, I cannot recommend that any of you visit in the near future. Perhaps I could use this post as a public service--you can view the album and then if you ever wonder what Tangier is like, you have some cool pictures and you don't have to go and get hassled, threatened, and spit on yourself.

Now to be fair, the cab drivers and our hotel staff were absolutely great. Also, I have met Moroccans in Europe that are extremely nice. I do not think our experiences fairly represent the nation or its people. I think Tangier is a bit of a rough city, Nathan and I are two 25-year-old men, and locals thought they could either intimidate us to sell goods or test their bravado against us. Also, I can understand some animosity toward America within the Muslim world. However, the pushy sales methods, the threats, and the disrespect of spitting on a person you don't know are all, in my opinion, totally uncalled for. You just don't treat people that way under any circumstances. I'm aware that we're very blessed in the western world and that life is a bit harder here in Morocco, but at this point I just cannot say that how we were treated outside of our hotel walls (and within "spitting distance" of its windows) was in any way all right. And while I cannot recommend traveling to Tangier in the near future, to be fair, friends of mine have had better travel experiences in southern Morocco.

Early this morning, we caught the ferry back to Spain and then took the train to Granada. Tomorrow we will tour the Alhambra, which was the pinnacle of Moorish architecture in Spain. I hope everyone is doing well at home.

- R

Lagos

Lagos is a relatively small beach town on the southern coast of Portugal, and it is a common stop for tourists in Portugal's Algarve region. The area is famous for its beautiful cliffs, dramatic rock formations, and clear water.

We arrived in Lagos on Sunday afternoon after taking the train from Lisbon. On the train, we met a nice Scottish woman, Liz, who told me a bit about my family history and gave me some recommendations for Lagos.

This post will be more brief, because inherently, this was more of a relaxing beach stop than a culturally rich city. In short, we went to the beach, went to dinner, slept, and then went to the beach again. Perfect. (Pictures of the beautiful southern coast of Portugal here.)

The beach I really liked was Praia da Dona Ana, pictured below. I went both days and found it very relaxing. At the top of the stairs above the beach, a little stand sold fresh peaches, fresh-squeezed orange juice, and banana milkshakes.

Liz recommended a restaurant called Adega da Marina, which was definitely a local joint. It was pretty much all Portuguese people, and the seating was like a German beer hall. Also, the food was delicious and very cheap. For €9.80, I got salad, olives, bread, delicious roasted chicken, potatoes, a fruit salad, and a small jug of Portuguese table wine. If there is one theme to Portugal, it is that almost everything will exceed your expectations for the money.

We stayed in a guesthouse that was really just a woman's home, but everything was really nice and we had full use of the kitchen. We shared the house with two Slovakian medical students who were quite friendly.

After going to the beach for a couple hours on the morning of our second day in Lagos, we walked back to our guesthouse, got our bags, and jumped on the bus to Sevilla.

At the bus station, before we boarded, Nathan and I met a Canadian couple, Jean-Sebastien ("JS") and Rebecca, who live in Quebec. We ended up splitting a cab with them to get to our hotel last night, and we had a great time with them in Sevilla today. We saw some sites and ate one of the best lunches of my life (pics in a day or two). Hanging out with great Canadians is becoming a common theme of my trips. In Australia last summer, Jen and I spent three days with Mike & Lora from Ontario. Later in that trip, we met up with Mike again in Sydney, and Nathan and I are planning to meet up with JS and Rebecca in Morocco in a couple days. They are also big foodies, so during our discussion of Top Chef and other food-related shows, I told them they need to come visit Jen and me in SF soon.

So in short, (1) Lagos we beautiful, but really the album speaks for itself, and (2) try to meet Canadians when traveling abroad. They're a blast.

Sevilla has been great so far, and I like it far more than Madrid. Today we saw the largest cathedral in the world (by volume), toured one of southern Spain's great Moorish fortresses, and saw a flamenco dance. We also ate tapas for the second and third times in the last two days. I've already selected a lot of pictures for Picasa, and I will write up a post in the next day or two. ¡Ciao!

- R

¡Sevilla!

Seville (Sevilla) is a historic city in southwestern Spain. We spent two days here, and I found the city to be very interesting and fun to photograph. (I am having trouble adding pictures to the blog over this connection, but there are many cool pictures here.)

We arrived in Seville in the evening and then went for a tapas dinner. Our first night, we ate sheep's milk cheese with olive oil and rosemary, paella, ceviche, grilled pork, gezpacho, cuttlefish, and beef with mustard sauce. Dinner was delicious, and in Spain, a tapas plate is usually about €3 and wine is about €2, so by splitting these small plates, you can put together a great meal with many wonderful flavors for very little money.

The next morning, we rendezvoused with our Canadian friends, JS and Rebecca, and went to see the Seville Cathedral, which is the world's largest gothic cathedral. Southern Spain was under Moorish rule for almost 700 years, so the large tower that is connected to the cathedral, La Giralda (the namesake of our hotel), features Islamic architecture. The Catholics liked La Giralda when they took the city, and they decided to keep it. From both inside and out, this cathedral was truly awe-inspiring. It also featured some amazing "Treasure" rooms featuring important artifacts, including some priceless Goya works such as Cristo Crucificado ("Christ Crucified"), and we climbed the 35 ramps to the top of La Giralda for full views of the cathedral and the city.

After touring the cathedral, the four of us sat down to one of the best lunches I've ever had. We started with two cheese plates: more sheep's milk cheese with rosemary, and goat cheese in rosemary oil. Next came Spanish flatbread topped with goat cheese, carmelized onions, and honey. This is one of those simple dishes that just puts you in awe--extremely delicious. (Hungry yet?) We also ate chicken cooked in cerveza, pork dishes with green pepper sauce and whiskey sauce, and flatbread with jamon and a spicy ground beef mixture that was a big hit with the table. Lunch concluded with the "Ecstasy of St. Theresa," a raspberry-cream mixture the name of which we found pretty interesting for a restaurant situated right next to the cathedral.

After lunch, we had "cafe con leche" with our Canadian friends and then bid them adieu. Then Nathan and I toured the Alc ázar, a large fortress that was originally built by the Moors. The structure featured a lot of beautiful Islamic architecture, and it should serve as a great warm-up for the Alhambra in Granada. Within the walls, there are also many acres of well-kept gardens, and it was fun to wander and see the interesting flowers, fountains, and peacocks on the grounds. The gardens also had some extremely loud insects that together created a noise reminiscent of the cicadas that come out every 17 years in Illinois.

Our stay in the Alcázar went a little longer than we had planned due to an afternoon thunderstorm, but it was quite nice since it cooled the city down and I miss the large midwestern thunderstorms that I used to fall asleep to as a kid.

For dinner, we ate tapas again (picking up on a theme yet?) and ordered chicken with mustard sauce, pork with green pepper sauce, paella, chicken cous cous, baccaloa (cod) with red pepper sauce, and tomatoes with young white cheese and oregano. We ended the night by going to watch a flamenco dance, which is a fun style of Spanish step-dancing. I was quite impressed, and the roughly 30-minute show was a lot of fun.

Before bed, Nathan and I were walking around our hotel's neighborhood, and I spotted a familiar face. On the street, in the middle of Spain, was our friend and Berkeley Law classmate Sarah Rezvanpour, who was traveling through Spain on her way home from Tehran, Iran. Jen has commented that I manage to find one of my friends or a close connection in almost every city, and maybe it's true.

The next day we ate churros and chocolate for breakfast and then went to see a few more sites, starting with the Plaza de España, an impressive structure built for the Ibero-American Exposition of 1929. Today, it houses several government offices.

After this, it was on to the Torre del Oro ("Gold Tower"), a structure built in the early 1200s to control access to the river running through Seville. Apparently, the tower served as an anchor for a chain that was stretched across the river and blocked ships from passing on the river.

Finally, we ate lunch at the same restaurant we lunched at the day before, and the main updates to our menu were pork in bleu cheese sauce and slices of cured tuna. I know I write about our meals quite a bit, but for me, food is a very important part of culture and travel, and the local cuisine is culturally significant to practically every region in Europe. Also, I found the food in Seville to be particularly delicious.

After a stop at the heladeria (ice cream shop), we grabbed our bags, walked to the train station and caught our train for Algeciras, a port town on the Mediterranean with ferries to Tangier, Morocco.

The train to Algeciras was fairly empty, but there was a girl assigned to the seat next to mine. Quickly digging through my pack that morning, I had grabbed and put on an Illinois t-shirt, and sure enough, on a mostly empty train to a remote port town in southern Spain, my new friend Irene had just spent an entire year studying ECE at the University of Illinois. It truly is a small world. We had a great time talking about all things Illini and technology. Also, she asked me to explain some funny cultural differences, like Americans' general aversion to both touching in general and the southern-European custom of cheek-kissing specifically.

Irene's lovely parents gave us a ride to our hostel, and after a few hours of sleep, we were on to northern Africa and our most exciting adventure yet. TBC . . .

- R

(Again, please view the Sevilla album here. Thanks again for reading and looking at the pictures. I have really appreciated the comments and e-mails, and it is really fun for me to be able to share my experiences with all of you.)

Lisbon

I started my day in Lisbon (Lisboa), the capital of and largest city in Portugal, by taking the Metro to downtown, and then I walked through the squares along the main street for a few minutes. Then I started hiking up the large hill through the Alfama district toward the city's historic castle. On my way up to the castle, I was fortunate enough to stumble upon the ruins of a Roman theater. That is an example of what makes Europe so intriguing. I did not know about the Roman theater ruins, nor did I intend to walk up the hill that way. I was doing my best to guess which windy streets would lead me up the hill and to the castle, and on the way, I literally wandered into them. This experience reminded me of my visit to the Rock of Cashel in Ireland roughly 9 years ago, when we stumbled upon the ruins of an abbey in the middle of an Irish field. The structure, Hore Abbey, was 900 years old, and we had an amazing time exploring it, but until we stumbled upon it we neither knew of it nor intended to seek it out. (Before I continue, my album with some of my favorite Lisbon photos is here.)

The views from the castle and its grounds were amazing in all directions. My favorite views, however, were the ones out to the 25 de Abril (April 25th) Bridge, which reminded me a great deal of the bridges at home in San Francisco. From afar, this bridge looks much like the Golden Gate Bridge, and it is a double-decker suspension bridge like the western span of the Bay Bridge. In fact, it was built by the American Bridge Company, the same company that constructed the Bay Bridge (but not the Golden Gate). Next to the bridge, across from the city, you can see the monument of Cristo Rei (Christ the King), which is reminiscent of the larger Corcovado statue situated above Rio de Janeiro in Brazil. Cristo Rei was built after World War II had ravished Europe, and it is a symbol of gratefulness to God for Portugal being spared from the horrors of that war.

However, the 25 de Abril Bridge was not the only reminder of home. Many things about Lisbon reminded me of San Francisco--the city lying right on the water; the mix of trams, trolleys, buses, commuter trains, and subways; the neighborhoods up on the hills; and more. In fact, they are even a bit similar geographically if you compare the San Francisco Peninsula and the Sacramento River to the Lisbon area, where the Tagus River meets the Atlantic. The cities are also similar in scale both in terms of size (by area) and population (SF being slightly larger by both counts). I met a couple from Palo Alto who agreed that to them, Lisbon felt a great deal like home.

But unlike San Francisco, which was founded as a Spanish mission and really grew with the gold rush of the late 1840s, Lisbon has many layers of history. The Roman theater (mentioned above) is about 2000 years old, and after the Roman rule ended, the city was controlled by the Moors during the Iberian Peninsula's Islamic period (the Moors controlled parts of Spain and Portugal for a period of 700 years, which is why southern Spain has so much Islamic architecture--it's also why Spanish has so many words derived from Arabic). The Lisbon Cathedral was built after crusaders took the city from the Moors in 1147, and it was built over the site of a Moorish Islamic mosque. In addition, the city has been rebuilt several times after being severely damaged and even destroyed by past earthquakes. The particularly tragic earthquake of 1755 destroyed almost the entire city, which may remind you of Voltaire's discussion of the Lisbon earthquake in his satirical work Candide.

On my way down the hill from the castle, I stopped for a coffee, and then went back to the Baixa district to see the Praça do Comércio. This is the large square in central Lisbon. Three sides of the square are bordered by large yellow buildings, and the fourth side faces the water. Two middle-aged men approached me with weed in this square ("Good price!")--they must not know me very well.

During the 1400s and 1500s, Portugal was a leading naval power, and its ships led the "age of discovery." To commemorate this time, in 1960, the Portuguese built the Padrão dos Descobrimentos (Monument to the Discoveries) to mark the 500th anniversary of the death of Henry the Navigator.

A few hundred yards away from this monument lies the Tower of Belém, which was built in the 1500s as a fortress to protect the path to Lisbon from the Atlantic. It never ceases to amaze me that men could construct structures such as the many grand fortresses, castles, and cathedrals of Europe before modern machinery.

Next, I went to see the outside of the Praça do Império (the tower appears in both pictures and gives you an idea of how large this building is), and about a block away, I bought a traditional Portuguese egg tart, which has a crispy outer shell with creamy egg custard in the inside. The textural contrast made this famous pastry very enjoyable. Well done, Portugal. (Thanks for the tip, Jady.)

After Belém, I took the tram back toward downtown and then walked around the hilly districts of Bairro Alto and Chiado, which is the main shopping district. Since it was about 100 degrees outside, I stepped into the Port Wine Institute's Lisbon lounge for a "Portonic," something that a guide had discussed in Porto the day before. A Portonic is a splash of white port with tonic and a lemon wedge, served over ice (based on the tonic and citrus, I would bet this was a British invention). It was very refreshing and hit the spot on a hot day in which I drank about 5 liters of water.

In the evening, Nathan and I met up after he returned from his day-trip to Fatima, an important Catholic site in Portugal. We ate Portuguese tapas for dinner--mussels, Andaluz sausages (often called linguiçia in the US), peach quarters stuffed with tuna (an interesting concept that was not particularly successful as an executed dish), cheese, mushrooms stuffed with parmesan and Serrano ham, bread, and aioli.

After dinner, we each had a small glass of LBV port to cap off the meal, and then it was back to the guesthouse.

Lisbon was a beautiful, very charming city. It felt a bit like being home for the day, sans my amazing wife. It was fun to see the bakery windows full of egg tarts, the old Portuguese women with folding fans (some adorned with images of Mary), the buildings finished with patterned tile, and the incredible monuments and historic sites scattered about the city. (Again, I have posted some of my favorite photos from the day in this album.)

Tonight we are in Seville (Sevilla), Spain. On Sunday morning, we took the train south for a quick trip to Lagos, and I will post about the Algarve region very soon. It was beautiful. Thanks for reading!

- R

Porto!

Three words: Porto. Is. Amazing. (Full album here.)

Porto (or Oporto), Portugal's second city, is a beautiful, quaint city situated where the Duoro River (which starts deep in central Spain) meets the Atlantic Ocean. There are beautiful steel bridges, and the city seems to rise straight uphill out of the river. Technically, the area on the north shore of the river is Porto, and the area on the south shore of the river is Gaia.

Nathan and I arrived in Lisbon at about 8 am on Friday morning. We went to our (amazing) hostel, ate breakfast, and then I left right away for the Lisboa Oriente train station (pictured) for the 3-hour train ride from Lisbon to Porto. Between the overnight train from Madrid and the 7-hour round-trip journey to Porto and back, I spent about 16 out of these 24 hours on a train. Back on solid ground, I still felt like I was rocking quite a bit. All in all, it was worth it.

I arrived in Porto, took a local train into downtown Porto, and then walked down the hill to the river. Within the first few hours of being in Portugal, it became clear to me that the Portuguese are, in general, extremely friendly and helpful. First, a teenage boy on the train opened up my Lisbon map and talked about his favorite sites in the city. Then, a girl on my train took me to the ticket machine so I could buy a local train ticket and stayed until I had finished the transaction. After that, a local man had me follow him down the hill from the local train station to the river.

Porto (technically, Gaia) is home to the port lodges of all the famous port-producing families. Overwhelmingly, they have British names. And so begins the story.

Many people around the world appreciate port wine ("port"), but as a nation, I'd venture to say that no one loves it quite as much as the British, not even the Portuguese. I am currently reading a massive Churchill biography, and after almost every formal dinner, he rounded out the evening with some port. The British also love French wines such as Bordeaux and Champagne, but during past wars and international disputes, there were times when they could not get French wine from across the English Channel. Seeking other sources, they looked to Portugal, but the Portuguese coast was too hot to ship still wine to England without spoiling it. Therefore, the winemakers began to fortify the wine. Instead of letting all of the grape sugar ferment, they let fermentation consume about 50% of the grapes' sugars, and then they pour in brandy, which kills the yeasts immediately and ends fermentation. This creates a sweeter, fortified wine, and port can ship in heat without "cooking" and ruining the wine. Thus, the British obsession with port was born.

Two quick asides. First, it's interesting that port is so acclaimed given that the winemaking method is so different from practically any still wine in the world, which are mostly made using fairly uniform methods. Second, port is not the only beverage that grew in popularity due to a challenge in meeting British requests. The British had many thousands of troops in India for decades, and in order to ship beer to them without spoiling, they had to make the beer extremely "hoppy"--i.e., bitter. Thus, "India Pale Ale" (IPA), was born.

Back to Porto. I walked down to the river, and then did the extremely crowded Porto Pilgrimage walk across the bridge.

After living to make it across the bridge, I walked about 1/3 of a mile along the river and then up the hill to Taylor's. It has been quite hot in Portugal--roughly 100 degrees in Lisbon today--so walking up the steep, narrow streets was fun, but got me a little winded.

I made it to Taylor's just in time for a free English-language tour of the facilities in Gaia. This is where a bit more explanation is required. Port is aged in oak and bottled in Gaia, but the grapes are grown about 100 miles up the Duoro River in eastern Portugal (and the area where these vineyards lie has been named a UNESCO World Heritage site). Grapes need to stay cool and be crushed as soon as possible after harvest, so the grapes are also crushed and the juice is fermented near the vineyards. Historically, all of the crushing was done by foot, and 5-10% of Graham's is still crushed by foot (which takes about 10 men 3-5 hours per tank)--the rest is done by silicon crushers today). The young port wine was then sent down the treacherous Duoro to Porto so that the barrels could be collected and the port wine aged near the coast. This river journey used to take about a week, and often boats, barrels, and lives were lost.

Today, however, roads reach the terraced wilderness where these vines are grown, so they can truck the young port to Gaia instead of risking the river.

Taylor's and Graham's were great. I chose these two port lodges because they make some of the best ports in the world. Both of them had very high-quality tours, and I learned a great deal about the science of port (e.g., reduction vs. oxidation during the years in oak) as well as how they make the different styles (ruby, vintage, late-bottled vintage, tawny, Colheita, white). At Taylor's, I was fortunate enough to try the 2007 Vintage Port, which was delicious and extremely impressive. I'd say 95-96.

At Graham's, I was blessed to be able to experience the greatest tasting flight of my life: 1985 Dow's Vintage Port, 1994 Quinta do Vesuvio (single-vineyard) Vintage Port, and 2000 Graham's Vintage Port. Every single one was an absolute blockbuster, but I didn't prefer any one to the others. They were all simply amazing representations of their respective house's traditional styles, as well as a great example of how top-quality vintage port ages over 25 years. I'd say 96-97 for each. Simply amazing--I will never forget it.

After Graham's, I caught the Graham's bus, which took me down the hill and across the bridge, and I said goodbye to Porto. But since I have loved Lisbon and Porto so much (and will likely love Lagos and the Algarve, as well), I doubt it was goodbye forever. It would be fun to bring Jen to Portugal, and I know Matt Dean (shout-out) will need to do this now, so maybe the four of us can make the trip down the road.

Again, the full album is here. I loved Lisbon and cannot wait to write about it, but I need to be up in about 4 hours, so this will have to do for now. Please forgive any typos--I will fix them in the next couple days. Look for Lisbon and Lagos posts over the next day or two!

- R

Madrid

Hello from across the Pond!

I wanted to post in Madrid, but the Internet connection there was not reliable and I was not able to make it happen. Tonight, I am in Lisbon, and I decide it's about time I post something. There are a few pictures on this post, but the main album is available here.

Nathan and I flew from SFO to Madrid (via Atlanta) with no problems at all. Jen drove me to the airport at about 5:30 am on Tuesday (I posted a picture of my last view of the Bay Bridge for a while), and I took off at 8:30 am.

We landed in Spain around 9:45 am Madrid time on Wednesday. At the airport in Madrid, we just jumped on the Metro, went to the city, and checked into our first hostel. I called Jen on Skype to let her know that we had arrived, and by noon, we were out and about.


Madrid was quite interesting. I was struck by a few things. For one, a very high proportion of younger northern Europeans speak English as a second language, but in Spain, English-speakers were few and far between. For the most part, I would have made my high school Spanish teacher proud, because I remembered a lot of nouns and basic infinitives, but I can no longer conjugate (beyond simple present tense) to save my life, so when things became complicated, I threw the conversation over to Nathan. Also, the Spaniards were not nearly as friendly as I expected them to be.

In addition, Iberians love their ham. For the Spanish, this is jamon, and if you're going to be traveling to Madrid, I sure hope you like it. The traditional jamon for Spain is Serrano-style, and it's basically Spain's answer to prosciutto. It's not like the US where you have ham, turkey, beef, and probably five other meats any time you order a sandwich. In Madrid, there is a good chance that your choice is jamon or no jamon. I love prosciutto, so I didn't mind so much, but Nathan grew a little tired of it after eating it twice in the first day. On the first day we ate jamon sandwiches for lunch, and then had a plate of jamon slices at dinner. Then the next day, I had a jamon sandwich for dinner. (Today in Lisbon my choice of sandwich was ham & cheese or toasted ham & cheese, but in Portugal the ham is like the ham you would think of in the US.)

Overall, Madrid was neat, but I wouldn't say I loved it. It's in the middle of a desert or semi-desert region, and I didn't feel that there was much natural beauty, which adds a great deal to cities for me. It was also difficult to navigate, as the streets wind every which way, but that can be kind of fun since every block or so you stumble on a new little plaza. Parts of it reminded me a lot of NYC's Soho and Upper East Side neighborhoods, and the area that most reminded me of the UES had a park with a look and feel that was very similar to Central Park--it was even home to El Museo del Prado, just like the UES has the Met right on Central Park.

After our first few hours of walking around the city, Nathan and I started wondering where all the people were. There were people around, but not nearly as many as you would expect for the largest city in and capital of Spain. What we found was that the Spanish siesta custom, which is essentially staying indoors, or even napping, during the warmest part of the day, is still going strong. Madrid was very hot and also quite humid, and we drank more than 3 liters of water each day there. After about 8 pm, when the city started to cool a bit, the streets were full and the plazas started to fill with life and activity.

After our first day in Madrid, Nathan did a Google search to find out what we needed to see on day two, and I'm really glad he did. We toured the main royal palace for Spain, and it was amazing. Right across the royal square was the city's main Catholic cathedral, and we toured that, as well (Pope John Paul II visited to give his blessing to the cathedral in 1994, and a great deal of the memorabilia in the cathedral related to his visit). I had not been in a European cathedral for almost a decade, and I forgot just how cavernous they are inside. They are absolutely massive and, often, beautiful.



After this, Nathan and I visited the site of a ruined Egyptian pyramid (in Madrid--who knew?), got some churros with chocolate, went to see the bull-fighting arena, and then got our bags and went to the train station. Eventually, we filed into our sleeping cart and laid down for the 10-hour overnight trip to Lisbon.


Again, there are some cool pictures of Madrid in the album, so please take a look. Also, I'm going to post about Porto and Lisbon separately so it's easy to follow along and look at each city individually. Porto and Lisbon were amazing, and tomorrow we are heading to Lagos, which lies along the Atlantic Ocean on Portugal's southwestern coast. I cannot wait to spend a few hours on the beach! I hope everyone is doing well back home, and I will be sure to check in again soon.

- R