March 2nd, 2006

When I walked into the airport, the first thought that came to my mind was, ¨This looks like a disaster relief area.¨ There were people all over the place, sleeping along every wall, playing soccer, or just talking and laughing. I joined the first group and slpet for about 2 hours. I checked in when the gates opened at 5, and then made the mile long trek to the actual gate, Stansted sucks. I slept the entire flight.

Getting onto the the bus into town, I met a 22 year old German named Jonathan who was also travelling solo. He asked me if I wanted to split a room with him, and I thought to myself ¨when in Rome.¨ We checked out one hostel that was advertised at €9, but it was pretty nasty and she was telling us it was €20 per person. We bid her adieu and headed into the heart of the city. We wandered around for a bit, and spotted a neon sign flashing ¨residencia.¨ The place was very nice. It had a private bathroom, heater, tv, balcony, and even breakfast. At €15 pp, it was a steal.

We dropped off our bags in the room and took off into the city. We were in dire need of some good coffee as we had both had little sleep the night before. He had woken up at 2 to make the flight from Frankfurt. We spotted an espresso shop, and headed in. We both ordered an espresso as well as a local pastry. We sat for a while talking as we drank, and Jonathan rolled cigarettes. I paid my €2 bill, and we headed out. Our next stop was a Church built in the 18th century, which has a tower 76 meters tall, and 225 steps to the top. It is the highest tower in Portugal, as well as the highest point in Porto. The panorama from the top was incredible. At least 10 other churches were visible on the horizon, as well as the Duoro river, the Port Houses, and the Atlantic Ocean.

From there it was on to The Se. This was another church, but had also served as a cloister back in the day. The outside was somewhat deteriorated, but the interior was incredible. I can´t really describe it, as I don´t think I will be able to properly describe any of these amazing European churches.

We headed down to the river, spotted another cafe, and stopped for another espresso. We made our may through the maze of alleyways and happened across a shop where there were 2 men, one young, one old, constucting model wooden ships. We spoke with them for a bit before making our way to the trolley stop. Once on board, we followed the river toward the ocean, and got off where they met. We walked out to the lighthouse, and admired the stormy seas, which Jonathan would soon be at the mercy of when he sails from Lisbon to Belgium in mid-march.

After that it was back to the Hostel, where we quickly passed out.