Portugal – Part III

We got off to a late start on Sunday, the 21st of May, not leaving the Pousada de Viseu until 10:30. Still, we managed to get to our first stop, Aveiro, by noon.

Aveiro is known as the Venice of Portugal; it was lovely, picturesque, and crowded with tourists.

Did they call it the Venice of Portugal, before they brought the gondolas in,
or were the gondolas there first, so people would call it
The Venice of Portugal. Chicken, egg, and all that.

These were everywhere, and they really made the towns
more attractive. I’m talking about the blue and white tiles.

The bus then took us on a journey to the upper part of Porto. We had lunch there, because there wasn’t much else to do. The real treat was the lower, older part of Porto, but as the bus wound its way into the city, it became clear we would not be able to stop. Turns out there were several festivals and protests going on, and the crowds were enormous. The bus, therefore, inched around the city, let us off at two places so we could quickly snap some photos, then inched out of the city to make the 40-kilometre trip to our third and final hotel.

Upper Porto.

The only photo I got of Lower Porto…

…because of this.

We arrived at our hotel at 7:00, after eight and a half hours on the bus.

..

Colditz

Also known as the Pousada de Santa Maria do Bouro, our final hotel, bereft of olde worlde charm and eschewing corporate fashion, decided to go with the Maximum-Security Prison look, instead.

Colditz (the real one)

According to the literature I found in our room:

Legends say that two hermits living in the village saw lights during the night and decided to go see what it was. What they discovered was an image of the Virgin Mary, hidden during the Moorish occupation. The construction of a small hermitage to harbour the image attracted pilgrims, which later led to the construction of the monastery of Santa Maria do Bouro.

Before the end of the 12th century this monastery joined the Cistercian Order. With the extinction of the religious orders in 1834, the monks were expelled.

In 1989 a project was presented by the architect Eduardo Soutto de Moura to adapt the premises of the monastery into a Pousada. Work began in 1994 and the Pousada—based on the maximum-security prison, Colditz—opened in 1997. (NOTE: I added that last bit.)

The front gate, complete with drawbridge.

Our cell door.

The hallway windows.

The Hallway.

The Exercise Yard.

Even our room key was shaped like a ball and chain.
We were prisoners number 201.

The cutlery. You’re never going to be able to
dig an escape tunnel with those.

The view, however, was stunning.

We got to sit and admire it a lot.

Being Sunday, the local restaurant they told us we could eat at was closed, so we had to eat in the hotel, which was very nice, and—as they, too, failed the “Guess how much,” test—not that expensive. (I paid more for a meal in Zizzi’s just yesterday.)

By the time dinner was over, it was 9:00 pm. We went for a drink at the bar, but it was closed, so we returned to our cell, I mean, room.

The next day—our final day of touring—we spent a looooong morning traversing narrow, winding, vertigo-inducing mountain roads that overlooked some of the most spectacular scenery I have ever seen.

There are miles and miles of this sort
of view. It is spectacular.

It did go on, however, and as our road seemed to be the only road through the valleys, there was nothing for it but to keep on going.

When we reached the town of Regua, we were released to explore, experience, and enjoy a lunch, even though there was wasn’t much to see, do, or eat. We had cake and coffee, then wandered around until it was time for the bus to collect us.

Regua.

Accordingly, by the time we got to Guimaraes, which was much more picturesque, offering cafés, restaurants, interesting architecture, and lots of quirky shops to browse in, we only had time for a quick look, making us wonder what Regua all about and why we even stopped there.

Guimaraes, plenty to see…

…interesting architecture…

…pubs and restaurants…

…and shops to browse.

During the long bus ride, TM attempted to prepare us for the following day’s departures by informing us when we were to be picked up for our trips to the airport. However, she mistook flight times for pick-up times, matched the wrong people with the wrong flights, and refused to believe that a couple listed as (let’s say, by way of example) Charles and Margaret, were actually the couple known as Chuck and Peggy. When we tried to correct her, she got defensive, blamed the company, and finally gave up. Then, just when people had stopped grousing about it, she started up again, with the same result. She needed us to pay attention, she said, because she was leaving the next morning early and would not be available to help us. This put everyone’s minds a rest; we could just go to the front desk and ask them.

We arrived back at the hotel—after nine and a half hours on the bus—with less than an hour until dinner. It was a dinner that was part of the tour, so we would all be dining together, and TM said, “It will be my final dinner with you,” even though, if she did eat with us, it would have been her first.

As it turned out, she ate at a table set up for her, alone, sitting around a corner, out of sight.

After dinner, I thought the least I could do was thank her and say goodbye, so I went to her table, and stood in front of it while she peered into her phone. When it became obvious she was not going to look up, I tapped on the table and she jumped, staring at me with surprise and suspicion.

“Since I’m not going to see you tomorrow morning,” I said, “I thought I’d come and—”

“Why? Where are you going?”

Now I was confused. “You said you were leaving early,” I told her, “and I just wanted to say, ‘thank you for a lovely week.’ We had a wonderful time.”

I then held out my hand, which she shook tentatively, giving me a look I can only describe as a mixture of fear and deep puzzlement.

When I related this story to my fellow travellers, they said, “She probably had no idea who you were.” And, thinking about it, I believe they may be right.