After a 5.5 hour middle of the night flight from Cairo to Madrid, we finally landed and sighed relief….ahh western Europe and the western world was back with us. We even used a real jetway instead of riding a bus across the airport t
o the arrivals/baggage claim hall. The Madrid airport is large new and clean, and huge! It took us about 20 minutes of walking and riding internal trains linking the terminals to get to the baggage claim area. Outside the baggage claim area, everything appeared to be nice, clean and safe. We decided to camp out above the Metro station in terminal 4 for the next 1:45 minutes; we rolled our beach towels out and went to sleep with our luggage chained together, using our backpack and purse as pillows. We awoke about an hour and a half later and saw that people were starting to line up to catch the first Metro train at 6am. Buying tickets were easy from the vending machines - they cost 2 euros per person which allowed us to ride any where in the Metra system in Madrid. We rode line 8 and changed to line 10 to the Charmartin Station which is where some Spanish RENFE overland trains leave from. We purchased tickets to Salamanca (using a credit card – a first in a long time) which left at 8:45am and cost 19 euros per person. The station was orderly, people on the escalators stood on the left and walked on the right. They queued to the right and waited their turn; it was so nice to be in a part of the world where we understood the rules again. Christy dusted off her Spanish and was conversing with the locals like an expert in no time.Salamanca, Spain
We arrived 2.5 hours later in Salamanca, which was the last station on the line. We got off and started walking with our luggage. We were planning to hail a cab but there were none to flag down so we started walking. The first thing we noticed was the air was cool (about 65 degrees) and clean. We could breathe it - it wasn’t choked with fumes – and it was relatively quiet - there was no honking of horns. This was a great place to be!!!!! Christy used her Spanish to ask a pedestrian and asked how to get to the square where we were staying. The gentleman told us it was tricky but gave us a general direction to walk in. The cars stopped at the pedestrian crossings so it was easy to walk where we wanted to, although again we had to ask an elderly gentleman how to get to our square and he replied that if we followed him he would point us in the right direction. Sure enough he told us which street to turn down, and within 5 minutes we were at our hotel on the Plaza de la Libertdad. Th
e Square was beautiful and old, with churches and buildings around it, with the center a lovely small garden. After a nap, we found a small tapas restaurant about two blocks away from our hotel, where we had two “bocadillos” with jamon iberico (special Spanish cured ham) and chicken and Manchego cheese, along with two Spanish style tapas, and wine. We then walked the streets, which are absolutely amazing; Salamanca is an old university town with lovely churches, university buildings, a central plaza and gorgeous old churches. After our walk through town, we found Marcus' parents, Denise and Phil, and had a lovely time catching up with them over some wine.
We arrived 2.5 hours later in Salamanca, which was the last station on the line. We got off and started walking with our luggage. We were planning to hail a cab but there were none to flag down so we started walking. The first thing we noticed was the air was cool (about 65 degrees) and clean. We could breathe it - it wasn’t choked with fumes – and it was relatively quiet - there was no honking of horns. This was a great place to be!!!!! Christy used her Spanish to ask a pedestrian and asked how to get to the square where we were staying. The gentleman told us it was tricky but gave us a general direction to walk in. The cars stopped at the pedestrian crossings so it was easy to walk where we wanted to, although again we had to ask an elderly gentleman how to get to our square and he replied that if we followed him he would point us in the right direction. Sure enough he told us which street to turn down, and within 5 minutes we were at our hotel on the Plaza de la Libertdad. Th
e Square was beautiful and old, with churches and buildings around it, with the center a lovely small garden. After a nap, we found a small tapas restaurant about two blocks away from our hotel, where we had two “bocadillos” with jamon iberico (special Spanish cured ham) and chicken and Manchego cheese, along with two Spanish style tapas, and wine. We then walked the streets, which are absolutely amazing; Salamanca is an old university town with lovely churches, university buildings, a central plaza and gorgeous old churches. After our walk through town, we found Marcus' parents, Denise and Phil, and had a lovely time catching up with them over some wine.Portugal
The next morning, we were all out the door by mid-morning, and off to Portugal, where we had a house rented together. The drive across Spain for an hour was interesting – windswept plateaus, which slowly gave way to rolling hills, covered with stones and boulders, and the intermittent olive tree. Our drive across the Portuguese border was easy, there were some border police, but we kept on going – no need to show a passport. Once into Portugal, the road infrastructure totally changed. In Spain, the roads were straight, and well-marked. In Portugal, the driving became a little difficult, especially given that Phil’s GPS was missing some of the roads AND our small town was not even on the official Michelin Iberia map. Roads were curvy, the road numbers seemed to change; and there was no real direct way to get somewhere. It was a little frustrating! However, the driving was spectacular and really very different – the hills became taller and more like small mountains, and the landscape became more scrub
by. The architecture of the homes also changed – soon we saw whitewashed homes with the orange tiled roofs, with brilliant red, pink, yellow and white roses in front of very home. After “Karen” the GPS had us going down an unpaved road, we finally found our small town, Coja, which was perched on the edge of the river Alva. Our rental home was adorable and suited our needs perfectly with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, two floors and English cable tv.
The next day, we headed out to try our hand at wine tasting and perhaps have a nice lunch out at one of the winery restaurants. However, we neglected to bring a local map and the wine map, so we dawdled over the countryside without really knowing where we were going. The countryside was gorgeous – lovely green rolling hills, clear mountain streams and gorges, and green everywhere. We finally stumbled upon Quinta das Marias winery, and it appeared no one was there. So, we did what we needed to – used the bathroom first. Phil knocked on the window by the wine barrels, and then the owner appeared. Turns out he had lived in Australia for awhile, and was Swiss, so we had a nice conversation about his wines. He opened both a white and red wine, both new bottles. We had a lovely tasting and asked to buy a bottle of the olive oil and the white wine. Unfortunately, Senior Peter did not hear us, and bought in two bottles of the white wine and the olive oil, and did not have change for the purchase, about 1 euro. The wine was priced at $8 euros apiece, expensive for Portugal, although still well-priced for a small boutique operation, where the bottles are still hand numbered. Senhor Peter ended up giving us a bottle of the unskinned (not yet labeled) red, instead of change and we called it a day.
The next day, we decided to go and find the hills where it was rumor
ed that there were port sales. We drove about 1.5 hours north, to the Duoro River Valley. The landscape we passed through was amazing, and we actually got up to an altitude of 3000 feet, which made our ears pop and closed our windows due to the huge temperature plunge. Then we started a descent to the Duoro River Valley, and the landscape changed yet again – to huge rolling green hills, covered with terraced grape wines. It was a beautiful setting. After we got off the main road, we started seeing small vendors selling fresh fruit by the side of the road. It was amazingly gorgeous, and we stopped at a local grocery store to pick up the fixings for a picnic lunch. Our next stop was Oporto, which was directly on the coast at the mouth of the Duoro River. Port grapes were grown upriver, and then made into port. The product was then put onto a boat, where it would make its way downriver to the town, which all had warehouses storing the products there. Today, most of the English and S
panish port houses still have large warehouses right on the river there. The views were remarkable, and there were plenty of tourists strolling on both sides of the waterfront. It had a very nice vibe, with plenty of waterfront cafes, entertainment and tourist shops. On the Vila side of the river, you could take tours and have tastings of the port, however, since we arrived in the very late afternoon, we were a bit limited for time. There are about 12+ signs for port companies spread out over a small area, but we preferred not to take paid tours. Yea yea yea, wine tours are great, but we’ve just seen far too many wineries, and they’re really all the same anyways. We did enjoy a "tasting" at Kopke, which was actually a full pour, and discovered we really liked white port, typically a product not exported out of Portugal.
The next morning, we were all out the door by mid-morning, and off to Portugal, where we had a house rented together. The drive across Spain for an hour was interesting – windswept plateaus, which slowly gave way to rolling hills, covered with stones and boulders, and the intermittent olive tree. Our drive across the Portuguese border was easy, there were some border police, but we kept on going – no need to show a passport. Once into Portugal, the road infrastructure totally changed. In Spain, the roads were straight, and well-marked. In Portugal, the driving became a little difficult, especially given that Phil’s GPS was missing some of the roads AND our small town was not even on the official Michelin Iberia map. Roads were curvy, the road numbers seemed to change; and there was no real direct way to get somewhere. It was a little frustrating! However, the driving was spectacular and really very different – the hills became taller and more like small mountains, and the landscape became more scrub
by. The architecture of the homes also changed – soon we saw whitewashed homes with the orange tiled roofs, with brilliant red, pink, yellow and white roses in front of very home. After “Karen” the GPS had us going down an unpaved road, we finally found our small town, Coja, which was perched on the edge of the river Alva. Our rental home was adorable and suited our needs perfectly with three bedrooms, two bathrooms, two floors and English cable tv.The next day, we headed out to try our hand at wine tasting and perhaps have a nice lunch out at one of the winery restaurants. However, we neglected to bring a local map and the wine map, so we dawdled over the countryside without really knowing where we were going. The countryside was gorgeous – lovely green rolling hills, clear mountain streams and gorges, and green everywhere. We finally stumbled upon Quinta das Marias winery, and it appeared no one was there. So, we did what we needed to – used the bathroom first. Phil knocked on the window by the wine barrels, and then the owner appeared. Turns out he had lived in Australia for awhile, and was Swiss, so we had a nice conversation about his wines. He opened both a white and red wine, both new bottles. We had a lovely tasting and asked to buy a bottle of the olive oil and the white wine. Unfortunately, Senior Peter did not hear us, and bought in two bottles of the white wine and the olive oil, and did not have change for the purchase, about 1 euro. The wine was priced at $8 euros apiece, expensive for Portugal, although still well-priced for a small boutique operation, where the bottles are still hand numbered. Senhor Peter ended up giving us a bottle of the unskinned (not yet labeled) red, instead of change and we called it a day.
The next day, we decided to go and find the hills where it was rumor
ed that there were port sales. We drove about 1.5 hours north, to the Duoro River Valley. The landscape we passed through was amazing, and we actually got up to an altitude of 3000 feet, which made our ears pop and closed our windows due to the huge temperature plunge. Then we started a descent to the Duoro River Valley, and the landscape changed yet again – to huge rolling green hills, covered with terraced grape wines. It was a beautiful setting. After we got off the main road, we started seeing small vendors selling fresh fruit by the side of the road. It was amazingly gorgeous, and we stopped at a local grocery store to pick up the fixings for a picnic lunch. Our next stop was Oporto, which was directly on the coast at the mouth of the Duoro River. Port grapes were grown upriver, and then made into port. The product was then put onto a boat, where it would make its way downriver to the town, which all had warehouses storing the products there. Today, most of the English and S
panish port houses still have large warehouses right on the river there. The views were remarkable, and there were plenty of tourists strolling on both sides of the waterfront. It had a very nice vibe, with plenty of waterfront cafes, entertainment and tourist shops. On the Vila side of the river, you could take tours and have tastings of the port, however, since we arrived in the very late afternoon, we were a bit limited for time. There are about 12+ signs for port companies spread out over a small area, but we preferred not to take paid tours. Yea yea yea, wine tours are great, but we’ve just seen far too many wineries, and they’re really all the same anyways. We did enjoy a "tasting" at Kopke, which was actually a full pour, and discovered we really liked white port, typically a product not exported out of Portugal.We enjoyed the rest of our time in Coja, town had a slow warmth and regularity to it; every morning the town woodmill across the river from us blew a whistle/horn at 7:55am, and again at 8:00am for work to begin. The woodmill blew again at 12pm,and then again at 1:00pm to signal the end of the lunch hour, then went off again at 5:00pm. The town bustled during the weekdays, as the townspeople enjoy their coffees, and shop for the day. The river flowed quickly with fresh cool mountain water, and the goats and sheep with their tingling bells grazed by the long river grasses. After the first two days, the days began heating up quickly, but the mornings would always start with a dense fog in the hills, which would burn off by 10am. Marcus and I ran a few afternoons, enjoying the warmth of the end of the day and running to the next town, where the locals eyed us suspiciously. We also enjoyed cooking in the rentals' kitchens, and having local wine. It was a great time to be with family, and to take time to enjoy Coja and the warmth of the Portuguese countryside.
Next Up: Portugal and Spain, Part II
Hello ! It was a pleasure to receive you at the Quinta das Marias. Best regards Peter Eckert,
ReplyDeleteQuinta das Marias, Oliveira do Conde, Portugal
www.quintadasmarias.com