Fall 2014: a trip to the northwestern corner of Spain, following the Cantabrian and Atlantic coasts from San Sebastian to Vigo, through the Países Vascos, Cantabria, Asturias, and Galicia (see map)
18 - 22 sep BILBAO, Vizcaya Hotel Melia Bilbao
23 - 27 sep PECHÓN, Cantabria Hotel Tinas de Pechón
28 - 30 sep LUARCA, Asturias Hotel Dabeleira
01 - 03 oct CARIÑO, Galicia Hotel A Miranda
04 - 05 oct FISTERRA, Galicia Hotel Alén do Mar
06 - 08 oct A GUARDA, Galicia Hotel San Benito
Bilbao
Jerome and I are back in Spain, back in Bilbao, in fact, almost exactly a year from our last visit. We are nestled into the very comfortable Meliá Bilbao, a large modern hotel with all the amenities and a view over a city park, where an amazingly energetic terrier takes her early morning race-track exercise every day, leaping over tall hedges and chasing anything that can run or be thrown, friends apparently with every other person or dog she meets. We had a delightfully smooth trip over last Thursday, including being prechecked through TSA at the airport, flawless connections, friendly personnel. A $2 bus ride from the Bilbao airport dropped us six blocks from the hotel. After check-in, we reoriented ourselves to the city with a long walk, and then enjoyed dinner at Serantes III, a sister restaurant of Serantes II, which we discovered last trip. Not sure what time zone our stomachs were in, we had a simple supper of green salad and grilled local fish.
Along the way, we had noticed Las Cepas, a tiny modern restaurant that looked very inviting and to which we returned mid-afternoon for the main meal of the day: fresh gazpacho (pureed,like salmorejo, but without the bread), risotto with vegetables, grilled fresh merluza (hake), strawberry mousse, white Rueda wine (verdejo).
After a late-afternoon siesta, we met up with our good friend, Libby Dietrich, from Torrey and Sausalito, who has just finished a twelve-day pilgrimage along the Camino de Santiago. We celebrated with a traditional tapas crawl, first back to Las Cepas, then to Panko (www.pankobilbao.com), then back to our hotel via Licenciado Poza, a hot tapas street jammed with Friday night revelers. We were looking for El Mugi, a highly rated tapas bar, but the crowds were so dense that we could barely move, much less find a specific address.
That was Friday, our first full day. Yesterday the three of us spent the morning at the Guggenheim, taking in a wonderfully comprehensive Georges Braque exhibit, plus the permanent Richard Serra installation, and the spectacle of a diving competition off the very high bridge that crosses the river outside the museum. Then we walked up to the Ahondiga, an ancient grain warehouse now housing small shops, a public library, and a swimming pool in a very stylish remodel. We found our Serantes II from last year, arriving just as a the skies opened in a major rainstorm, and enjoyed another delicious, long lunch. We walked back to our hotels against a tide of fans going to the Athletic Bilbao/Granada soccer game at the stadium four blocks away. Red and white striped shirts everywhere. (Unfortunately, Bilbao lost.)
Another rest, then we took the above-ground city tram back around the loop of the river to the old town, just for the fun of it. Another fairly long walk along the far side of the river took us to the bottom of an old funicular that climbs the steep hill into residential Bilbao, from which there was a glorious view of the whole inverted U of the city. Once again river-side, we found some rather nondescript tapas just because we were hungry, but then on our way down Licenciado Poza once again, we were rewarded by finding El Mugi, which not only offered wine but also vermouth, and tapas of duck liver with fresh apple, grilled shrimp encrusted in peanuts, and fresh grilled cod, all served on small slices of fresh baguette.
Getxo
Yesterday Libby, Jerome, and I crossed the Bilbao river from our hotels to have a classic Spanish breakfast on a plaza in the Deusto district: cafes con leche, fresh o.j., fresh baguettes spread with olive oil and pureed fresh tomato (did I mention that it was all fresh?). This area is named for the University of Deusto, a prestigious private Jesuit university housed there. The district feels student-like, at least once up off the main business street, with Basque independence sentiments visible in flags, banners, and graffiti along the streets, and plenty of places to hang out. Deusto was a separate rural municipality known for its tomatoes until the city absorbed it in 1925.
A 30-minute ride on the very modern metro took us from Deusto to Getxo (gay-cho) at the mouth of the estuary, where we found lots of beach, sunbathers, runners, cyclists, and some kind of marathon, plus sunshine and a general weekend atmosphere. The towns that occupy this headland seem to consist of affluent homes and gardens, plus a line of early 20th-century mansions that interested Jerome greatly. After exploring, we took a bus back to Bilbao, enjoying lovely river and city views. The Vizcaya Bridge was built to connect the two banks which are situated at the mouth of the Nervion River. It is the world's oldest transporter bridge and was built in 1893, designed by Alberto Palacio, one of Gustave Eiffel's disciples. It was the solution to the problem of crossing the estuary without disrupting the maritime traffic of the Port of Bilbao. Downtown again, we had cañas (small, very cold draft beers ubiquitous in Spain) and rested our feet.
San Sebastian
Libby, Jerome, and I spent Monday on a day trip to San Sebastian, some 63 miles to the east of Bilbao and about 13 miles from the border with France. We rode the bus on a cloudy day that was a bit damp but still comfortable, via a winding freeway through coastal mountains, reminiscent of highways along the northern California coast.
San Sebastian is known locally as Donostia, its Basque name. The two names actually both mean "Saint Sebastian", dono being Basque for saint and stia being a shortened form of Sebastian. The small city is located on a beautiful bay with lovely beaches, which we could only partially appreciate on such a gray day. There was one solitary fellow on the beach, warmly dressed and drawing large pictures in the sand. SS is a famous tourism center, and one of its principal annual events is an international film festival, which as it happens is taking place this week (the reason we didn't actually stay in San Sebastian on this trip). We walked along the edge of the "red carpet" in front of the main venue but saw no celebrities at 1 in the afternoon.
Our "lunch" turned into a three-hour meal, since we chose to share the six-course "tasting menu":
- Cold-marinated anchovy lasagne and vegetable rataouille with gazpacho cream
- Creamy rice with baby cuttlefish and slices of Idiazábal cheese
- Grilled hake on potatoes with virgin olive oil and citrus vinaigrette
- Braised beef with hazelnuts
- French toast (2" thick), caramelized and served with a creamy cream cheese sauce
- Fresh strawberries with mascarpone sauce and biscuit crumbs
Wow. The flavor and texture contrasts were outstanding, and portions were modest so that we could enjoy every last bite. The photos, which I shall send along soon, may give some impression of the visual beauty of the servings, though I suspect that they do not do them justice.
Photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/
Pechón
We left Bilbao on a gray but dry Tuesday morning in a rental car, a black low-end SEAT (the Spanish VW subsidiary) that is adequate but nothing special (I think Jerome is a bit disappointed that it isn't snazzier). We weren't going far, just crossing from the Basque provinces into the next region westward, Cantábria. The first leg of the trip was freeway, but after we passed Santander, we hooked onto secondary roads that led us past the caves at Altamira to the coast. Life immediately calmed down.
West of Pechon, San Vicente de la Barqueira is a fishing port on the camino lebaniego, the pilgrimage route to Santiago de Compostela that hugs the north coast (see the map in the photos via the link below). With its medieval castle topping its low hill, and medieval walls scattered around the pleasant contemporary small city, San Vicente had plenty to show us on three different visits (including a regional gin!), and as I have mentioned, delicious food to feed us. Photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/
Cantabrian coast
26 September
Our third morning in Pechón is fresh but sunny, with none of the fog of the last two days. Jerome has gone off to Colombres for a second visit to the archives on immigration, and after I finish this I am going to sketch a bit.
Our third morning in Pechón is fresh but sunny, with none of the fog of the last two days. Jerome has gone off to Colombres for a second visit to the archives on immigration, and after I finish this I am going to sketch a bit.
We have spent the past couple of afternoons exploring this part of the coast: Suances, Santillana del Mar, Comillas, San Vicente de la Barquera. All essentially fishing villages grown into small towns and cities, apparently modestly prosperous but quiet. Santillana del Mar (at right) is the most touristy by far with its large pedestrian district of historic stone buildings and tchotchke shops. In his novel Nausea, Sartres described the town as the prettiest in Spain, a quote that accompanies any marketing of the place, but is also openly challenged by almost anyone from anywhere else. Now, toward the end of the tourist season, we only counted ten busloads of mostly Brits and Americans, but I shudder to think what it must be like mid-summer. The other towns are less well preserved, but much more profound, with real people leading real lives. We've eaten both days at El Marinero in San Vicente, a quiet seafood restaurant with, in our experience, only Spanish clients, and excellent, simple, fresh fish entrees thoughtfully prepared and proudly presented. No hoopla, and a complete "menu of the day" dinner costs all of US$15. Not atypical, and part of what we love about Spain. The steamed clams with garlic and parsley were to die for.
mountains, rivers, and food
Today (Saturday) we drove up a very narrow, very deep defile to Potes, a town of about 1,400 at the junction of four alpine valleys in the Picos de Europa. The elevation is only 1,000 feet, but it feels like the Alps. The town turned out to be a little too touristy for our taste, but the drive up and back down was delightful, the gorge of the crystalline river lined by vertical gray cliffs draped with greenery, on a gorgeous autumn day. There were any number of starting points along the way for high-mountain hikes, as well as for rappelling on the limestone cliffs. And canoeing, and kayaking, and horseback treks, and 4-wheeling. Much of the region is a national park, and so protected from more Potes-like development.
Food-wise, we had probably the highlight meal of the trip yesterday at the restaurant Arbidel in Ribadesella. We had been there last year for Jerome's birthday dinner. In the year since, the place has earned a one-star Michelin rating (due, no doubt to our enthusiastic review of it on Trip Adviser), and we couldn't resist the opportunity to return. If anything, it excelled itself. As in San Sebastian, we had the "tasting menu" (menú degustación) that can be found in Spanish on the website http://arbidel.com/. The four appetizers were served in two pairs, a corn-and-guacamole shot of cold soup paired with a tablespoon of minced salmon tartare, and then a cuplet of salted cod mousse topped with tomato puree and toasted sugared almonds paired with another mousse of lightly curried whipped potato and cauliflower. Incredibly subtle flavors and textures. The five "platos" (entrees), no more than a quarter cup each in amount, were served sequentially, which is part of why we were there for 2-1/2 hours. Roughly speaking: apple gazpacho; tomato/red onion/smoked anchovy salad; truffled couscous with mushrooms and minced cabbage; salted cod with octopus foam (didn't work for us); and a wonderful, tiny taste of braised beef subtly flavored with celery and beets. Two tiny, light, fruit-based desserts.
Other than this incredibly wonderful meal, we ate at much more humble cafes, including El Ancla, a block from our hotel in Pechón, where the locals gathered each night for wonderful fresh food and a glass of wine or beer, and in our own hotel, Tinas Pechón, which served excellent food as well. We are so pleased to have had an extended stay in this western corner of Cantabria. Tomorrow we head into Asturias for further exploration of the "green coast"of northern Spain.
Our attempt to see the cave at El Pindal, and our drive along the Asturian coast and visit to Ribadesella, are here:https://plus.google.com/
And, finally, our trip up to Potes in the mountains, on the last day of our stay in Pechon, is recorded here: https://plus.google.
Our attempt to see the cave at El Pindal, and our drive along the Asturian coast and visit to Ribadesella, are here:https://plus.google.com/
And, finally, our trip up to Potes in the mountains, on the last day of our stay in Pechon, is recorded here: https://plus.google.
Luarca
Moving westward, we continue to enjoy the Cantabrian coast. On the way to Luarca, we stopped briefly in Llanes (at right). We have never stayed there, but remembered visiting its attractive harbor and historic center last year. It is a small (4,000 people) fishing port with a lively tourist industry (mostly other Spaniards). Lots of nice walks in and outside of town, beautiful scenery, interesting shops and restaurants. This time, we were especially interested in its Indiano houses of which there are several. Photos are here: https://plus.google.com/
We also visited the Asturian towns of Navia, Tapia, and Castropol, looking for Indiano homes. We didn't find any that were particularly memorable, but the coast and countryside were spectacular. My photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/
Celtic castros
We left our hotel in Luarca on Wednesday morning after a delicious breakfast at a pastelería (bakery/cafe) that we had discovered on Monday; Jerome had a small sandwich and I had a toasted baguette, plus juice and coffee for both of us. We also picked up a loaf of pan rústico (the Spanish name for crusty bread, in this case a baguette) and a couple of almond cookies for our evening meal in Galicia.
In talking to the two park rangers, we also learned that Boal, the town up the road, is in fact a center for research not only on the Indianos but on immigration in general, through an institute there that collaborates with regional universities. An annual symposium is taking place there this weekend; we obviously should have researched the town more deeply before we blew it off. But by now it was after noon and we were eager to be on our way, so we filed both places away as resources for future visits to Asturias.
northern Galicia
3 OctoberWe spent three nights at Hotel A Miranda, just south of the town of Cariño, in the region of Ortegal, Galicia. Ortegal is in the farthest northern corner of Galicia, and is largely undeveloped. Its businesses are just beginning to focus on ecotourism. Local geology, geography, and climate combine to lure visitors to its beauty. We spent one day exploring Cariño's cape, Cabo Ortegal, and the next day exploring the cape to the east, Estaca de Bares. Both are mountainous and rocky, and wherever there is soil, there are eucalyptus trees. There is little visible agriculture (a few cows here and there), no cities or parks or shops or museums, only a few fishing ports with their necessary services. The population of the whole comarca is about 15,000. This really does seem like the back of beyond.
Both capes claim to be the spot where the Atlantic Ocean meets the Cantabrian Sea; of the two, Ortegal is the more dramatic, perched at the end of a steep point of land with high cliffs on each side. Estaca de Bares, however, is surrounded offshore by obviously complex currents, and in terms of latitude is the northernmost point of land on the Iberian peninsula, if only by a degree or two. I have to wonder if it isn't closer to the junction of the two seas, but it really is nitpicking to even consider the issue.
So it was somewhat a surprise, on the trip out to Estaca de Bares on Friday, to discover the small and charming fishing port of O Barqueiro, to which we returned for lunch at A Sobreposta, a lovely modern restaurant on a terrace overlooking the tiny harbor. Our excellent meal included a green salad topped with grilled slices of goat cheese and toasted walnuts, and poached hake with a very tasty vinaigrette containing a finely minced mixture of onion, green and red peppers, and hardboiled eggwhite. It seemed an unlikely and sophisticated meal for this isolated region, but we weren't about to complain!
Also on the food front, our hotel served a breakfast of sliced pan rústico topped with freshly pureed avocado seasoned with salt and pepper, and thick slices of in-season tomatoes alongside, a great way to start the day (especially along with fresh orange juice!). We enjoyed the resident dog and cats, as well as the lovely view from our room. A very out-of-the-way place, and a fun contrast to the last two weeks.Photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/113886039316216265781/posts/fZv5oskcALE?pid=6066724476691064098&oid=113886039316216265781
Fisterra, land's end
We are in Finisterre (Spanish, from the Latin for land's end), or Fisterra (Galician), Galicia, the final end of the Camino de Santiago for many pilgrims, a small fishing port resting at the end of a cape that was once thought to be the end of the world. The coast here is known as the Costa da Morte (coast of death) because of the many shipwrecks on its rocky shores over the centuries.
This is a beautiful point of land jutting into the Atlantic, one of the westernmost capes of the Iberian Peninsula. The land is drier and rockier than in the northern corner from which we came, and to us it feels more comfortable. We have walked the beach and explored the town and admired the endurance of the pilgrims. Lunch in town yesterday was delicious: razor-shell clams from the local beach; pimientos de Padrón, a small green sweet pepper of northern Spain only available in the fall; and the ubiquitous "mixed green salad" of fresh lettuce, tomato, carrot, onion, and canned tuna. Olive oil and vinegar dressing. The typical and delicious Galician pan rústico. Today we ate at an Italian pizzeria, and enjoyed a green salad (without the tuna), a baked eggplant dish with tomatoes and cheese, and a pizza. A nice change!
Though not required to complete the pilgrimage on the Camino de Santiago (the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela, some 90 kilometers east, is the official endpoint), many camino-ites come all the way here, and we saw a lot of backpacks around the harbor. We, of course, can claim no such accomplishment, though we did walk the two+ kilometers of beach from our hotel into town.
Fisterra is an interesting blend of quasi-touristy camino restaurants, hostels, and stores, and a lively local community based around the fishing port. We had fun watching the local scene on the plaza at the harbor: kids playing soccer, parents with toddlers, groups of grandmothers arm-in-arm. The town is small enough to feel intimate and friendly, but also diverse due to all the travelers that come through. Our hotel, Alén do Mar, is small and comfortable, just outside of town and a block away from the beautiful Langosteira beach. We are enjoying our stay. A few photos can be found here:
A Guarda
We have landed in a gem of a hotel, in a gem of a town, for our last three nights in Spain. A Guarda is the southernmost town on the Atlantic coast in Galicia; the Miño River to its south constitutes the border with Portugal. This is the last stop on the trip, and we are tired, and grateful to be in such a charming place. The tourist season is well over, several stores and restaurants are closed for vacation, but tourism doesn't seem to be that important and there is still plenty of local action to be seen on the streets and plazas. The colorful buildings that rise up the hill are very cheerful.
Our hotel is the San Benito (hotelsanbenito.es/), established in a former 17th-century Benedictine convent and preserving the historical atmosphere while providing all the modern comforts. Located at the base of the town, right off the harbor, it has a spectacular location. Have a look at the web site to see more detail.
For photos of A Guarda in stormy weather, see
A Guarda sits on the north side of the mouth of the Miño, and its peninsula is dominated by a steep 1,100-foot-high hill that gives views all around for miles, and especially up the river and out to sea. Clearly an important strategic site, the hill was occupied by Celts from about 100 b.c. to 100 a.d.; there also are some Iron Age petroglyphs present. With its mild climate and a natural harbor to the north of the hill, this is an inviting environment. The Romans conquered the Celts and occupied A Guarda until the decline of the Empire. Over time, the town also was occupied by Vandals and Moors (like the rest of Spain), and by Portuguese and French pirates. Whew.
The small mountain is named for Santa Tecla (Saint Thecla, in English), a follower of the apostle Paul who, first, defied her parents to stay single and a virgin, and later assaulted a nobleman who was trying to abduct her; sentenced to death, she was saved miraculously by the female animals who were supposed to kill her (go Thecla!).
A hermitage was dedicated to her at the top of the mountain in the 12thC (hence the name). A few medieval streets still constitute a small pedestrian zone above the port. The castle of Santa Cruz was built on a hillside on the north side of town as a protective fortress during the war between Spain and Portugal (17thC). It is in ruins now but is open to the public as a park.
Farming and fishing have always been mainstays of the economy, according to local history. Tourism is big today, with beautiful beaches on both sides of town, and wine country all around (alboriño grapes, primarily). With many restaurants serving delicious seafood, and larger cities like Tui only 20 minutes away, A Guarda is an interesting and welcoming place to visit. (But they could use some PR; it was hard to pull together all these facts!)
Photos are at https://plus.google.com/u/0/
We will fly from Vigo to Paris tomorrow afternoon, then home to Torrey on Friday. This may well be my last post of the trip; I hope you have all enjoyed them!
the western and southern coasts
Spring 2014: A trip around Portugal and southern Spain via train
31 mar - 2 apr CACERES Apartamentos Turisticos Caceres Medieval
03 - 06 apr SALAMANCA Salamanca Suite Studios
07 - 08 apr SEGOVIA Hotel Don Felipe
09 apr MADRID Best Western Hotel Villa de Barajas
This trip did not go as planned (above), because by the time we got to Sevilla, a major storm system had moved north from Africa and was affecting -- and forecast to affect for the next week -- exactly our route up through Extremadura. So we changed plans, and continued along the coast, to places we'd never been before (Malaga, Almunecar, Cartagena). It turned out to be a lovely trip, as described in my posts.
20 - 23 mar LISBON Albergaria Senhora do Monte
24 - 26 mar TAVIRA Guesthouse Imperial
24 - 26 mar TAVIRA Guesthouse Imperial
27 - 30 mar SEVILLA Apartamentos Las Cruces
This trip did not go as planned (above), because by the time we got to Sevilla, a major storm system had moved north from Africa and was affecting -- and forecast to affect for the next week -- exactly our route up through Extremadura. So we changed plans, and continued along the coast, to places we'd never been before (Malaga, Almunecar, Cartagena). It turned out to be a lovely trip, as described in my posts.
Lisbon
Jerome and I are on our way to Spain, with a stop in Portugal first. We are delineating a large "J", starting in Lisbon, then south to Tavira on the coast, then around eastward into Spain and Sevilla, then north to Caceres, Salamanca, and Segovia. All train travel, with some bus side-trips. We will fly home from Madrid.
So here I am again with my travel journal, looking forward to sharing our adventures with you. Our flights and arrival were all fine; so far we've had no real jet lag to speak of (though we are only one day in). More posts and photos to come.
Lisbon adventures
Eight years after our first trip here, we are revisiting some of our favorite places in Iberia. Lisbon is an exotic (in the sense of alien) version of San Francisco, built on hills, with a Golden Gate bridge spanning the river, a population packed cheek-by-jowl into a small urban area, a tourist zone down by the water, an upscale shopping district up the hill, a skid row, and even cable cars. It is at once familiar and foreign. The latter quality comes from the language, of course (we barely understand Portuguese), from the centuries-long history (Neolithic Iberians, Indo-European Celts, Phoenicians, Romans, Visigoths, Moors, reconquering 12th-century Christians, a trans-Atlantic empire into the 18th century, a 20th-century dictatorship, and so into the modern Eurozone), and from the struggle to expand beyond its fishing and agricultural economy into something more enriching and sustainable (there is no Silicon Valley in Portugal). It is a charming city, if a bit of a backwater as it struggles to emerge from the recent economic crisis.
Lisbon also is just emerging from winter. Plum trees are in bloom, but not much else, and the weather is cool and damp. A light drizzle on Friday evening prompted us to purchase an umbrella, and though it hasn’t rained since, there is a good possibility that we will find use for it again as the trip unfolds. And if we encounter cold temperatures again, we both have new Portuguese hats from a hat store downtown that Jerome had researched prior to arrival.
We have had sunshine if cool temps for the last two days, and we have renewed our familiarity with the city while seeking out new experiences and a more nuanced understanding. I can’t estimate how many kilometers we have walked. We discovered a Chinese district abutting an area dominated by Indian stores and restaurants, bordered by a few blocks of Arab establishments. All this independent of the famed Alfama Jewish quarter, the Baixa business district, the Chiado shopping district, the Bairro Alto with its pubs and restaurants. Lisbon is nothing if not a typical crossroads city, and the street life is as colorful and as varied as the population, from mimes down in the Rua Augusta to strains of fado heard through open windows.
Ah, fado. This quintessential Portuguese music is unique, a mature solo voice against one or two twelve-steel-string guitars played softly in counterbalance, pouring out poetry in songs that express a longing that cuts across cultures. I can only rarely understand an actual word, but the music can bring tears to my eyes in a line or two. We had two unforgettable fado experiences this trip, the first at a tiny local bar a couple of blocks from our hotel that has a tradition of fado sessions on Saturday and Sunday afternoons. We spent perhaps an hour there yesterday, listening to three singers who were clearly local favorites perform songs that were clearly well known. Lots of respectful, low humming along. An informal setting, but a professional level of performance. Then today we went to the Museo do Fado, a very well designed public museum that uses audiovisual techniques to simply but very effectively trace the history and aesthetics of the art form, with many examples available to listen to. We came away with a new CD by a young woman who performs in the traditional manner.
We bought public transit passes for our three days here, and have had fun just hopping on and off of busses and trams whenever it seemed appropriate. This morning we took a ferry across the river to Cacilhas, where many of the non-professional workers of Lisbon live. Other than tourist-oriented restaurants and tchotchke shops right at the ferry landing, we saw nothing of interest, and headed back to Lisbon, admiring the view of the city.
Meals have been primarily grilled fish with potatoes and greens (or a green salad), all fresh and delicious. Exceptions have included feijoada (a typical bean stew), shredded roast duck combined with rice and sort of pressed into a patty, and some excellent soups of chick peas and vegetables. Simple food, well prepared, with simple but good Portuguese wines. Last night, on a whim, we changed pace with dinner at Bistro Gato Pardo (Brown Cat Bistro), a pocketbook of a place (four tables), offering more international nouveau style cuisine. Jerome had pork cutlets in a peppercorn sauce, I had pasta in a light lemon sauce, and the salad was much more complex than the normal Portuguese lettuce, tomato, and onion, however delicious the latter always is. Tonight we ended our stay in Lisbon with a more traditional dinner, though Jerome’s bacalau (cod) was tossed shredded with egg, onion, and cilantro on a bed of lettuce, and my duck breast was in a delicious honey and port sauce.
Tomorrow morning, after breakfasting on the top floor of our hotel with its breathtaking view over the city, we will board a train for the four-hour ride south through Faro to Tavira on the Algarve coast. More adventures to come!
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