We leave Porto in the morning to begin walking the 250 km Portuguese route to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. This was our first visit to Porto (hopefully not our last!) but not our first connection to this beautiful place.

In 1991 Christine and I were in London, staying at a quaint brownstone B&B in the heart of the city on Gower Street. We had become friends with Teresa who was a staff person from Porto, and her visiting sister, Isabelle, also from Porto. Isabelle had brought her 10 year old son to London for continuing treatment of a life threatening condition, a growth in his throat that was restricting his esophagus. Doctors were investigating therapies before electing for a potentially dangerous surgery.

Guests were typically not allowed in the kitchen or garden of the B&B, but we became the exception. One evening we were treated to glasses of the excellent Port wine that Isabelle had brought from home, the four of us were exchanging stories and gratitude for the lives we had been given to date. It was one of those times that one comes to appreciate how much we are all alike across the globe. Teresa suggested that we all go to dinner the following evening at a local Greek restaurant, one of her favorites.

The next night we walked, arm-in-arm to dinner. The restaurant was alive with patrons speaking a number of foreign languages… our “America English” may well have been considered “foreign” by the Brits in attendance!

In the midst of the celebration Teresa let out a scream. A thief had grabbed her purse and was making a fast run to the street. Reflexively, I took pursuit and caught him just outside the restaurant. A physical confrontation ensued. I ducked a punch and succeeded in wrestling the purse away from him. He then ran off as other patrons were coming to lend assistance. Teresa and Isabelle were grateful, the restaurant owner thanked me and expressed his relief that I was unhurt. It was at that moment that I learned from the owner and other patrons that the fist that I ducked had held a knife.

Sadly, we lost touch with Isabelle and Teresa. I have wondered over the years about them and Isabelle’s son. Some stories are just destined to remain unfinished.

Peace Everyone. Pete

The weather set the tone for the day; sunny, warm, and not a cloud in the sky! We intended to occupy a part of the morning doing laundry, but Liz here on staff at Poets Hostal did it for us. Washed, dried, folded, and ready for us at the end of the day!

We are getting a bit burned out on the “tourist, do this museum, see this site thing”. Lisbon is beautiful and there is so much to see, but it might just be here for us another day.

That having been said, we returned to the waterfront and enjoyed tea, a coffee-con-leche, and a sandwich while watching people pass by. The square is dominated by a grand arch. 2.50 euros buys you a ticket to the top where you can examine the tower clockwork mechanism. The view from the top is stunning!

Returning to ground we caught a street tram to the Belem District, about 4 miles away, and the location of a number of very fine museums. We only had time to visit the monumental structures and grounds of the Monastery of St. Jerome. This UNESCO World Heritage Site is over 500 years old and was once the home of the monastic Order of St. Jerome. It was secularized in the 19th Century. A number of members of Portugal’s royal family members are entombed here, but the most notable crypt within the church is that of Vasco da Gama, the Portuguese navigator who in 1497 discovered a route to the wealth of the Indian Ocean via rounding the bottom of Africa. The resulting trade enshrined Portugal as a dominant world power for the next 200 years. A link at the end of this post will give you access to more pictures of the Monastery.

I received a message the prior day from Jerome (no relation to the Saint or Monastery!) and Morgane, the young couple we met on the night train from Madrid. Apparently they had not had their fill of our company and asked if we were available for dinner. We responded with an enthusiastic “Yes!”. We met in The Chiado District and found a venue to eat, drink, and make memories. Sharing a love of life has a way of erasing the decades that otherwise separate us in age.

Christine and I enjoy the sights of travel, but most of all we love the chance encounters that become endearing friendships. Our evening with Morgane and Jerome was special. We suspect that this will not be the last time that our life paths cross!

Peace Everyone! Pete

We have considered that this journey seems to unfold in “chapters“. We think that the overnight “Train Hotel” to Lisbon qualifies as it’s own chapter. We are not strangers to sleeper trains in Europe. I have traveled from London to Paris where the entire train was put into a ship and crossed the English Channel from Dover to Calais then on to Paris. This was pre-Chunnel. I have also ridden the Orient Express from Belgrade to Paris… Hercule Poiroit was not on board.

In 1991 we traveled with our children from Amsterdam to Munich in a non-private second class “Couchette” with 6 beds organized 3 high on each side. Our family occupied 5 of the bunks, and the 6th was held by a Yugoslav expat who lived in Amsterdam with his wife and young daughter where he was employed as an electrician. It was the start of the disintegration of Tito’s Yugoslavia. He was traveling to Munich and then on to the border where he hoped to enter his former homeland covertly to extract his parents. He and I spent the entire night awake, sharing beers and talking life and family. I was on a vacation and he was on a literal life and death mission. He explained that if he were caught the best case scenario was forced conscription, the worst, execution. To this day I wonder of the outcome…

Our train accommodations from Madrid to Lisbon were technically 1st Class, but not when compared to the glory days of rail travel in Europe that I had experienced decades ago. We had a simple private compartment with 2 beds and a sink. Clean and efficient, we were provided with toiletries and towels. The beds were comfortable and our coach adjoined the restaurant/bar car. The best “perk” was that we had access 2 hours before boarding to the Renfe (Spain’s National rail line) private lounge and complimentary snacks and beverages.

After the typical on-time departure, Christine and I took seats in the bar-car for some snacks and vino tinto (red wine). We made the acquaintances of a young couple from Austin Texas. She, Morgan, is a very talented artist exhibiting in Europe and Jerome owns and operates along with his mother a bakery, “Rolling in Thyme and Dough”. Morgan and Jerome have known each other for half their lives and about 18 months ago awoke to the realization that they loved each other. We talked life from both sides of the mirror, shared laughter seasoned with wine and olives. I will remember them.

Arrival in Lisbon was before 8am. We are guests of The Poets Hostel of Lisbon. They agreed to hold our packs as check-in was not until 2:30, but they graciously allowed us to take breakfast. Christine and I then left to walk 7 miles of this very hilly city, visiting the main Plaza, securing seat reservations for our Wednesday train to Porto, touring the 11th Century Castle that overlooks the city, and of course the Cathedral where we encountered other Pilgrims who were there,like us, to obtain sellos (stamps) on their Credentials.

Our Hostel facilities and room are top-notch at only 50 euros a night. We have a private balcony and an incredible view. A clean room, friendly staff… this was a good choice.

Peace Everyone! Pete

In 2017, while traveling and camping in Alaska, we met Ron and Lena. We were immediately attracted to them. As retirees they spent approximately half their time on the road in a very small RV, had incredibly positive dispositions, liked people, but most of all really liked each other. We made a fast friendship with them, and upon parting wondered if our paths would again cross.

The question was answered yesterday. While I was doing our much needed laundry, I received a Facebook message from Lena. They were in Madrid!..having completed the Camino Via de la Plata route to Santiago. Using a mixture of Facebook, Skype, and Messenger, we arranged to meet for dinner in the Barrio neighborhood. Ron described the restaurant as a “hole in the wall” with great atmosphere and food. It was, and it did!

In Spain, dinner doesn’t really get going until 9pm or later. We met at 7:30, sipped vino tinto and cervesa until 9pm, and then dined until nearly midnight. The time fairly flew as we caught each other up on the gifts and challenges of life. Will our threads in this tapestry of fate cross again?… only time will tell.

Madrid at night is a carnival, alive with the pulse of humanity. No museum or art gallery can compete with the energy that unfolded before us as we slowly walked back to our hostel.

Today we will breakfast at the hostel, join its residents for a walking tour of the city, enjoy a street-side cafe, and let the day present us with its menu del dia.

As Eddie said to us in Puerto Rico, “In life, there are no coincidences!”

Peace Everyone! Pete