Lounging in Porto
April 5th - 13th, 2017
Ever since we started dreaming of this trip, Kate and I have been a bit anxious about one major milestone — re-entry into the Schengen Zone.
Unless you live in the Schengen Zone (SZ), you probably have no idea what this is, and even if you do you might be clueless. It’s not the European Union (EU), which is a legal like entity that promotes open economic borders, adherence to the Euro, and other powers. It is about borders though — specifically open physical borders. Mostly made up of mainland Europe countries, some are in the EU, some aren’t. It’s confusing.
That’s all fine and dandy, but when you’re planning a trip somewhere it’s nice to know specifics about how they handle visitors and the visa process. When that information is shared between so many countries, the responsibility of knowledge is diffused and you’re left with very muddled answers (i.e. no one at the French consulate in Atlanta could give us a straight answer on re-entry to the SZ).
Because we had a 6 month visas (student & visitor) that ended in February, we needed to leave the SZ, hence our trip to the UK and Ireland. With regular 3 month tourist visas, the kind you just show up and get stamped with, the rule is you can only be in the SZ for 3 months out of every 6 month period, so if you max your time you have to wait for 3 months to re-enter. Because we had ‘speciality’ visas, after lots of online research with hazy conclusions, we felt likely that we could re-enter after less time and get a regular tourist visa because they’re different visas.
Anyway, lots of research, moderate anxiety, ample discussion and game planning for our conversation with the border people. We touch down in Portugal and walk up to passport control slightly sweaty with racing hearts. Usually they ask some standard questions — where from, where to, how long, etc. I took a deep breath as I prepared for the discussion.
Nothing. He simply took the passports, scanned them, and stamped them. I don’t remember him even saying anything — just waving us on. Months of anticipation and it was over in 30 seconds. Life lesson here: worrying is fruitless. (Matthew 6:34)
We were back in!
Porto is the 2nd largest city in Portugal following it’s neighbor to the south, Lisbon. The city is where the delicious Port wine originates, which we sampled and enjoyed several times throughout the week. Culturally it reminded us both of southern Italy, including loud and verbose disagreements like the shouting match we saw between a restaurant owner and customer one day. Climate-wise, it was an invigorating change from the cold wind of Ireland, or most places we’ve been of late. The skies were blue, the temperature embracing the 70s, and the smell of summer and sand drifted to us over the hills from the Atlantic.
Some of our favorite memories:
- sitting alongside the Douro River sharing a pitcher of Sangria while we people watched, listened to riverside musicians, read, and played cards.
- exploring the hilly streets and admiring the tiled-facades of many buildings — the hand painted patterns and pictures were captivating!
- searching for local Portuguese fare like Francesinha, a meat stuffed sandwich smothered in cheese and sauce or bola de Berlim, a doughnut overflowing with custard.
- beach day! only a 20–30 minute bus ride and a variety of beaches are at your finger tips. we liked the gritty sand of the rocky Foz do Douro.
- trying octopus! at least it was a favorite for me. not so much for kate.
Porto made the list of cities to re-visit. We took the week fairly slow (story of our lives currently) with the exception of one night where we tried to fulfill a goal we’ve had of ‘going out’ and dancing the night away. I tell you, those Portuguese don’t really start hitting the bars or dance clubs till past midnight and by that point we were already dragging. The dance floor felt our shoes for about 4 songs before the threat of a sleepy collapse drove us home. #oldsouls
It’s good we complement each other with mutual desire to be asleep by 11. :)
