Porto is how drunk people say port

It was a long drive from Santiago to Porto, but we still squeezed in a trip to Finnistera, the end of the Way of St James.  Well, one of the ends, the one at the western most point of Spain.  Nearly.  There's some other place that is further west, but the Spanish are like my sister and never let the truth get in the way of a good story.

Lunch was little fish (complete with heads) in some little cafe in some little town in either Spain or Portugal.  Candice led us slightly astray again, but when we eventually found our palace, I mean hotel, they greeted us with a iced port drink. The hotel is fabulous.  Slightly out if town and right on the river.  The taxi drivers were on strike, protesting against Uber.  (We seem to have struck a few protests, first Paris, then the farmers in Santiago with their tractors, now the taxis.)

This meant that dinner was a one hour walk or at the hotel.  We started at the pool bar and ordered Sangria with sparkling wine.  Being seasoned sangria drinkers, we knew what we were getting.  Boy were we wrong.  First, there's a little salad if cucumber, oranges and limes, then there's vodka, brandy, cointreau, and some Portuguese liqueur.  Finally juice and presumably but bubbles.  And voila, you've got a huge glass of get your aunt and your mother drunk.  I, of course, was perfectly sober.

We then sat in the salon for 10 minutes before they could seat us for dinner.  For starters, I had an assortment of fish on a strip of dry bread.  A tomato soup was then poured over it by my waitor.  A sip of Janice's wine (flavours of tart apricots) set it off nicely.  I was a little brave with the main and had octopus.  It was delicious with a slightly charred flavour.  (Janice's wine with her main was also very nice with a very fruity flavour).  For dessert, we stole Janice's pastry and port.

Not a hangover to be seen the next morning and the taxis were back on the job to take us into town.  We had booked a 3 hour walking tour with Blue Dragon.  We had our guide, Virginia, all to ourselves.  She took us all over town - churches, parks, that bookshop with the awesome staircase, the market, the train station, some traditional looking streets, spots with views over the city, the old city wall, the town hall, the shopping district....  We had a great chat about the various sights, the history of the city and of Portugal, of politics, and about the people of the city - and the best football team.  It was a really enjoyable morning.

We met one of my friends for lunch at Taberna St Antonio.  What a treat - not just the company, but the food, the wine and the hosts.  We had a lovely cod, rice and spinach dish with a Douro wine.  They don't usually have the cod at lunch, but I think they cooked it specially as I had booked via Facebook. It was delicious but nothing compared to the chocolate mousse we had for dessert.  The chef, mama, visited us after each course to check we had enjoyed our meal (with her son translating).  If you're ever in Porto, this is the place to eat.

In the afternoon we wandered the city, I bought a handbag and mum shouted us coffee and cake at the Majestic Cafe.  It's a famous cafe where radicals plotted the overthrow of someone.  Someone famous wrote of the cafe when it was opened, "The cafes in Portugal have, up to now, been exclusively the hotbed of revolutionaries, the business meeting point of merchant groups, or where the obstinate aged listlessly pass the time....Ladies from the best of Oporto's society frequent  [The Majestic ]."  I like to think we were the Ladies rather than one of the former three groups.

The day ended with a trip on the number 1 tram our to Foz,  and straight back again as we were cold, dinner of Francesinha  (heart attack in a sandwich), and the long walk home along the river.