Exploring Charming Porto by the Riverside
Let's open with a more attractive photo instead of the 8 a.m. one. I took it last night on the bustling riverside of Porto, where cafes adorned the waterfront and the melodies of Tavares' "Heaven must be missing an angel" filed the warm evening air.
It was my final stroll through this charming city, brimming with tourists, unlike the Spanish cities I had visited in the north of the country in June and July and which I had enjoyed so much; they were just as much alive as Porto but with mainly Spanish people, a mix of locals and visitors.
Just days before the San Fermin bull run, even Pamplona felt like a distinctly local or national event where the many foreigners, with Fiesta in their luggage, faded to the background amongst the thousands of Spaniards.
Porto felt like Prague or Venice, where tourist masses become part of the city's brand. After my first two days, I increasingly enjoyed lunches and dinners further away from the center amongst the Portuguese before walking back to admire the main sights in the center. But I would love to return in another season because Porto's allure is undeniable, its architecture distinct, its history rich, and its cafes and restaurants are a treat for the senses. Fascinating Portugal ranks high on my list for future visits, including challenging thru-hikes.
I don't speak or understand Portuguese and still need help with the correct pronunciation of obrigado, but I love the sound of the language with its melodic and rhythmic tones. The graceful flow and rich intonation carry emotions like a gentle breeze, as captured in Fado's haunting melodies. Listen, for instance, to the soul-stirring performance of Dulce Pontes' Song of the Sea, Canção do Mar (you can click on this link to a youtube video).
But this series is about my life at 8 a.m. The alarm on my phone reminded me to take a photo when I was quickly eating breakfast in this cafe near the train station, which you can see in the following picture, just before I entered to catch the 8:13 train to Vigo in Spain.
It was the start of a 12-hour train journey to avoid the one-hour flight, which would also have been cheaper since we still don't charge for the environmental damage we create by flying. Worse: governments subsidize flying, for instance, by not charging value-added tax. Flying is absurdly cheap; our fragile planet that is at stake isn't.
Meanwhile, my train crawls northward, back to Spain, where right now, thousands of people walk from many different directions to Santiago de Compostela, like bees flying back to their hive. I have joined their ranks twice, and when I have forgotten the pain and hardship, and only the favorable memories remain, I will join them again in the future via a different route than the French one.
A uniformed man walks into each carriage and tells us in fluent Portuguese that there is a "problema." In the last sentence, I recognize a word that sounds like 'paciencia.' The crawl becomes a complete stop, and I patiently wait until another abrupt halt follows another shaky crawl.
A baby cries but then gets so much attention from several women that he soon flirts with the gentle lady in the seat behind his parents. I keep typing and trying to connect to the outside world to share my 8 a.m.
moment, but it's a struggle; I keep losing text and regularly take screenshots to save the lines I wrote.
Traveling and writing remain a complex relationship: when I travel, I have much to share, but it's hard to find the time and proper conditions to write when traveling. There are no travel stories to share in the long Canadian winters, but there is time to write them. I am likely not the first to experience this, but I am all ears if anyone has the solution.
Internet access is, together with time to write, another ongoing headache. While I type these last lines, the train takes off from Vigo, where I had a short lunch break. The next stop is Ourence in less than two hours; let's hope for a connection with you all. Having proper wifi is like access to clean water or a stable climate; only when you don't have it do you realize the luxury you enjoyed before.
Note: this is the text that I wrote yesterday and couldn't share with you. I'm now in Madrid (with proper wifi). The project "My World at 8 a.m." is for this summer for my Patreon followers; it is the site for a small group of supporters where I share posts that don't fit in the Substack format, like a quick snapshot without much text, or an update of what I'm working on. I have also shared it with the readers of The Planet newsletter a few times, like this post today.
I will likely post "My World at 8 a.m." on Patreon at 10 or noon today. I was working on this text at eight o clock, hardly worth a photo, while Madrid has more to offer.
Patreon is for the small group that wants to give extra support and likes to receive more from me. You are most welcome to join by clicking here (there is a free trial).
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Wow, what a journey that must have been. Love your description of what was happening around you on the train. Can just picture that little boy with those women. Also, that stop and go with information given in a foreign (foreign for you) language.
Portugal is definitely on my list. Never really felt like going to Spain, but Portugal - I think I'd like that.
Flights are definitely too cheap and I feel that in certain parts of the world it's also that train connections are just really bad. I feel lucky living in Switzerland. Although we've just cut off Germany a little bit, because their trains were always late messing with our more reliable railnetwork. So, travellers to and from Germany are now more likely to have to change trains in Basel, but I digress.
Thank you for sharing your journey from Porto to Madrid and your pictures. I especially love the out of the train one.
As for tips ... maybe a braindump right after the walk or at a specific point of the day (when back at the hostel/hotel). Just deliberatly take time to write. Free form, just let it flow. Look through the pictures of the day (if there's time) to trigger some memories. When I do that, 15-20 minutes is often enough, because there are no rules. I just type. This could also be in Dutch of course. Then on days off have a look at what you want to share. I don't think writing proper articles while walking every day is realistic. They are two entirely different activities. I've also started recording short voice messages to myself to remind me of things. I often find them again much later.
“There is melancholy in a melody, there is fate or destiny, sailors and poets, pilgrims of distant oceans, untamed hearts by history done.”