- Smoking is still a thing in Europe. We have all but abolished it in the Mid-Atlantic region of the US; in Europe it’s still acceptable to sit outside and light up a heater next to a family of four eating dinner.
- Beer and wine are available in highway rest stops.
- Highway rest stops in general, actually—they are tidy, well-stocked, the food is decent, the service is friendly, the bathrooms are clean, and they are well-organized. Portugal, you win this one.
- Prosciutto, all the time. What the fuck is wrong with America? Prosciutto is amazing, and it’s available everywhere in Portugal. It’s the foundation of a lightweight sandwich (the Iberico) which washes down great with a Fanta or a lager and doesn’t make you feel gross for eating half a deli counter.
- The Pastel De Nata is a lovely custard-filled tart you can get almost anywhere for ~1€. It’s not quite the pastry of heaven we were promised, but it’s pretty fucking good with a cappuccino on an empty stomach.
- The Ovos Moles, however, were kind of gross. The custard is more egg yolk than anything else, and it’s sealed in a thin crust made of unleavened Catholic host. We tried these at two different bakeries in their town of origin and were not impressed.
- Hill braking. Our Peugeot 308 is a manual and was very fun to drive, but some of the grades in Portuguese hill country were 10˚ or steeper. Having a hill brake (in neutral, letting off the brake facing up an incline, the car holds your position until you’ve engaged the clutch fully) was a godsend, or I would have smoked that transmission on the first day in Lisbon.
- The Mediterranean. We were able to see it from the southern route we took back to Porto, but it wasn’t ever close enough to warrant a detour just to say we’d dipped our toes in it. Very beautiful to see.
- Cafe culture. I wanted to stop at every cafe in Porto, Lisbon, Sintra, and Seville just to sit and have a coffee or a drink. What a lovely way to live life (apart from the smoking).
- Red Bull. So I’ve avoided Red Bull since the 90’s when it came on the scene; I tried one or two at that point and just switched back to coffee, the taste of which I enjoyed more anyway. Now that I’m Middle Aged the diuretic effects of coffee hit me a lot harder, and after a bunch of my plumbing got modified during surgery it doesn’t leave me with a lot of time for an escape plan. Facing a 250km drive in the warm Iberian sun while still slightly jet lagged, I needed something to keep me awake that wasn’t going to have me shitting in a bush beside a Portuguese highway. Red Bull did the trick, and I was able to sleep each night when we got to our destination. Still tastes like Hawaiian Punch, though.
- Espresso after dinner, at least for Bill, is a Bad Idea. We had an incredible seafood dinner Tuesday evening on the east side of town which I finished off with a tiny cup of the local rocket fuel. Laying in bed when we got back to the apartment, I passed out at 12 until about 4, and then woke up wide-eyed, trying to fight off intrusive thoughts about developments in US politics. I didn’t return to sleep, choosing to watch YouTube videos until the sun came up. Now I’m high on two cups of coffee and a Sudafed because if I nap at any point today I won’t sleep tonight. And strangely this did not have the expected effect on my bottom system. My middle-aged chassis remains a mystery.
- eSim cards. We’ve had mixed results with these, which are basically apps that can be downloaded to use European cell carriers instead of racking up expensive roaming fees through our US-based carriers; on the whole it’s been great to be able to access maps, ticketing apps, and websites from our phones. In practice we’ve found it hard to get reliable service from them. Mine will work and then Jen’s won’t; two hours later it’s the opposite. They will claim we are connected but they aren’t, or we just don’t get cell coverage in certain areas. And Finn’s phone is apparently not compatible with them at all (see: expensive roaming fees).
- European hillside houses. I am fascinated with the architecture and construction of houses built into hillsides and on top of cliffs and next to windy streets; Portugal is lousy with them. I feel some connection with my grandfather, a mason, when I look at these magical buildings and wonder how they were built and who designed that cool stairway and where does that little door go? I spend a lot of time wondering who the people were that lived in these places and what their lives were like.
- Parking in Portugal has been challenging. There are machines which take Euros, and there are apps you can use without leaving your car. Some of the apps work in certain cities and some don’t. Some require a European bank account, 24 hours to transfer money, and a signup process longer than a US tax return. This is not helpful when your ticket to a local museum is scheduled for the next 20 minutes (and the Europeans are strict about admittance times). Some require a premade account not offered through the app. And some—like the one I’m using to park outside our apartment—have a very fluid definition of timespan. Hopefully I will not be bankrupted by hidden parking fees when we return home.
- Scooter culture. I would love to have a Vespa or Lambretta to pop into town for fresh bread and vegetables, or to go pick up dinner. It would make a lot more sense to only have a scooter here in Europe, as gas is extremely expensive—almost a dollar more per liter. They are, predictably, cheaper to buy here, but I’d have to pay to ship one to the states. So it washes out, I guess.
- The rambly vibe of Portuguese cities. There seem to be neighborhoods like there are in US-based cities, but things are a lot more spread out here—in the US there are clusters of restaurants or shops clumped together like islands in a vast ocean, where in Portugal you can find a bar, restaurant, shop or pharmacy on almost every block. The sense of city as community is strong here—it’s the exact opposite of the US. I can see why Europeans who live in the States might feel isolated and lonely almost immediately.
- There are also a lot of empty storefronts (at least in the area we’re staying) where sometimes it looks like things shut down last week and sometimes it looks like it closed in 1762. Hard to say what the reasons for that might be.
- Good shoes. I was told we Americans would be easy to spot because of our brightly colored shoes, but truthfully I think we’re pretty average. I bought a new pair of light Nikes before we left and they have been perfect for climbing steep, slippery cobblestone alleyways, even if my heart and my knees aren’t up to the challenge.
- Exercise. On that note, I’m woefully out of shape. Time to get serious when we return home.
- Because I have decided to only carry a cellphone as a camera, I have shamelessly embraced the family selfie. I am not, however, wandering the city behind a selfie stick or gimbal mount, as I have seen repeatedly this past week. It feels weird and wrong not to have a specialized camera (apart from the 35mm film camera I’m carrying) so I’m spending more time focusing on being in the place and less time trying to compose shots of the place. I feel that this is progress. I also feel like one of my arms has been chopped off.
- I’m becoming more and more aware of my mood in relation to my stomach; there have been several times on this trip when my blood sugar is low and I’m struggling to keep my wits about me on a dangerously empty stomach. This is aggravated by the fact that we’re 6 hours ahead of our normal schedule. We have joked several times on this trip that Finley travels on sugar, but I need to stay on top of my hangry better.
- BMW drivers in Europe are the same entitled, inflamed assholes they are in America. Turn signals are optional, and they will drive right up your butt until you get out of their way. Nice to see some things are universal.
- The Portuguese, with the exception of ticket attendants at the major tourist spots, are all the most lovely, patient, understanding, and friendly people. Which is a blessing, given the challenges your correspondent has with communication.
- I really need to learn, or at least, do some basic studying on a Romance language to beef up my skills. I hate being a stupid American.
- The weather, apart from rain and fog at the most scenic of our destinations, and one day of heat in our second week, has been glorious. It’s been around ~72˚ and sunny for most of our stay, and we missed the heatwave that sat on Seville by one day, making our tour of the Alcázar a pleasant one.