I have to admit to liking Porto better today, for a few reasons, but mostly having to do with much better weather. This morning Arnaud and I crossed the river for a wine tour and tasting, then walked around, took the teleférico up the hill for some stunning views, and then made our way back across the totally insane Luís I bridge and back to our flat. I say the bridge was insane because there is a very low guard rail for a very high crossing. I can’t believe there aren’t a huge number of suicides off this bridge, it is crazy vertigo-inducing, but also affords truly spectacular views. We had a lunch of Bacalhau (what else) and then I bid a fond farewell to Arnaud who left to catch his flight back to London. Finally this evening, on the advice of a local, I sampled a local culinary horror called the Francesinha, sort of a distant inbred cousin of the already classy Monte Cristo. I am feeling a bit ill but proud for having taken up the challenge.
I will go to bed early tonight because I have to be up to catch my taxi to the airport at the ungodly hour of 4:15am. I am finally heading home after 4 and a half months on the road.
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