TRAVEL IN PORTUGAL

Navigating 3 Generations of Family Through One of Europe’s Oldest Cities

Lesson #1 — release all expectations

“We travel all the way to Portugal to enjoy differences — to become temporary locals. You’ll experience frustrations. Certain truths that we find “God-given” or “self-evident,” such as cold beer, ice in drinks, bottomless cups of coffee, “the customer is king,” and bigger being better, are suddenly not so true.” — Rick Steves

So read the guidebook we found left in the apartment we rented for a week in the city of Porto in Portugal.

We quickly realised that it was written by an American, for fellow Americans, as it spelled out these basic truths that one must let go of when travelling in Portugal. He went on…

“One of the benefits of travel is the eye-opening realization that there are logical, civil, and even better alternatives. A willingness to go local ensures that you enjoy a full dose of Portuguese hospitality. And with an eagerness to go local you’ll have even more fun.”

The guidebook was quickly starting to read like a self-help book for the uninitiated. The next paragraph topped it all:

“The Europeans generally like Americans. But if there is a negative aspect to the Portuguese image of Americans, it’s that we are loud, wasteful, ethnocentric, too informal (which can seem disrespectful), and a bit naive.”

Everything I saw about the Portuguese during that week was, as Rick Steves heavily implied in his “self-help-cum-guide to Portugal,” the absolute opposite of the above traits.

They are expressive yet humble. They share the “less is more” values that other European nations are known for — tapas-style dishes and espresso-sized coffees among others. And they are kind and accommodating when they are shown equal kindness and respect.

Despite trying to pick up a few Portuguese phrases, I found I kept using Spanish words in shops, in the hope that they were the same in Portuguese. They seemed to understand and I repeated “obrigada” (Portuguese for “thank you”) often enough to seem to get away with it.

And, when it comes to kinship, the love of family was apparent. The Portuguese cherish their young and respect their old. Which made for a very rich experience for our whole party of nine, ranging from age nine to age eighty.

Taking the whole party walking through the city, to cross the bridge over the Douro river and seeing the views along the way, was pleasing on so many levels.

My father especially loved seeing the old, traditional boats upon the river, with barrels of his favourite Portuguese beverage upon them — Douro wine — wine made from a variety of grapes, grown along the banks of the Douro. He loved the views of the city from across the river, and he loved the sense of space as you looked down from the bridge towards the Atlantic Ocean.

My son, on the other hand, deeply appreciated the murals on the buildings, of pixelated characters from video games he knew. As I say, there is something for everyone.

My sister and I can both walk the cobbled streets of old cities forever. Having both travelled a great deal, we love to simply soak up the atmosphere and sights of life being lived in places far from home.

Traditional houses, away from the main city, reminded me of magical times spent exploring Goa in India. The first time I travelled to India, after the madness of Bombay, I did the sixteen-hour bus ride to the capital city of the state of Goa, Panjim, and then onto a sweet coastal village, where I stayed in a traditional Portuguese home — one of my strongest and fondest memories of that first visit.

You see, the first European to discover India was Vasco da Gama, a Portuguese explorer. First landing in Calicut in northern Kerala, he was later appointed Governor of India for his contribution to the country. In the state of Goa, one of the few Portuguese-colonised areas, there is a city in his namesake.

As I learned more about the Portuguese maritime activity, some of which from street art around the city, I recognised names I had seen often in Goa; da Silva is a very common one.

Beaches for everyone

The under-twenty-fives needed their water activity.

Actually, so did the forty-somethings. Me!

My main job, as I discovered, was to make sure that those who needed to get to the beach, got to the beach.

The first beach was a most unusual beach for the west coast of Portugal — the calm waters. I have visited Portugal previously — about nineteen years ago — stopping on the Algarve, which is predominantly the Mediterranean Sea, although it is where the two seas meet. From there, we went up a little way, to a beach on the west coast, which is well and truly the Atlantic Ocean.

I had never seen waves as big as the waves on that beach. Fortunately, being early spring, I wasn’t too fussed about being in the sea; there was absolutely no way I was even putting a big toe near the water’s edge, for fear of becoming victim to a huge breaker, twice my height.

Every story I have heard about the Atlantic coast in Portugal involves enormous waves that take competent British surfers by surprise. And yet, here was this sea that simply lapped lazily at the shore.

I was told that it was the wall of the nearby port that sheltered it but I assumed it would only slightly reduce the impact, and wondered if it was simply the summertime high pressure that rendered the sea so calm.

As it turns out, I was completely wrong about that; the next day, I took the girls and my son to another beach — one unsheltered by any port wall — further north. We chose this beach because there was a beautiful-looking swimming pool, built into the rocks, that would fill at high tide with seawater.

When we arrived, we realised why there was the need for a swimming pool when you had the sea right there — swimming in the sea was not for the faint-hearted. Of course, after a short time spent in the pool, the three teenage girls decided they wanted to go and attempt the waves on the beach.

They discovered what it meant to be thrown by waves, dragged up the sand by them, and tumbled. My daughter, despite wearing a skimpy thong, still discovered several kilos of sand inside it, due to being thrown about and dragged by the waves.

The little things that keep everyone happy

We did a little bit of everything. There was the sight-seeing of the enormous, majestic old buildings, the tiny, cobbled lanes, and the unique tile-fronted houses.

There was high-street shopping for the girls, hunting out street art across the city, and we even went on the little tourist tram. Hmmm, it was cute but only pleasurable if you like feeling like a sardine on a hot day.

Everyone loved the more bohemian side of Porto, including a fantastic vintage warehouse, near the banks of the Douro. It was nestled behind the enormous Centro Congresso (Congress Centre), where there was an exhibition of Banksy’s work, in line with the street art theme of Porto.

We saw the university library that inspired Hogwarts, where J.K. Rowling was a resident professor for some time, and the street that is remembered as the predominant Jewish quarter, where my own Portuguese Jewish ancestors may well have resided.

And, most importantly, we enjoyed a few of Porto’s consumables. Being vegetarian, I didn’t bother with any of the tripe-based specialities, but I enjoyed tasting the Douro wine, once we had chosen from the enormous variety on offer in the supermarket.

And I certainly couldn’t fault Portugal’s favourite beer…or its fabulous name.

Porto, a place for any age group…and anyone willing to blend in

Not one single member of our multi-generational party finished the week without a huge smile on their face, or a heart spilling over with gratitude.

Everyone came away feeling nourished, excited, inspired, and happy.

Quite honestly, I had my reservations about staying in a city for a summer vacation but Porto blew those reservations out of the water. It was the perfect place to enjoy the beauty, history, and art of a city while having elements of the countryside and beach life close at hand.

There were even plenty of Instagramable photo opportunities, as my nephew discovered.

Oh, and I agree with Rick Steves. Aim to blend in and you’ll have a great time!