We were at breakfast right around when it opened. Nazaré's breakfast buffet was a great spread, so one (maybe two) croissants with Nutella later, we were sufficiently buzzed to check out and get to Tomar on the hill.
The receptionist was not the best this time around. I had here call to try to get us a tour of Quinta de la Rosa the next day, but she kept asking when and for how many and how many nights we were staying there... It ultimately never went through, which I suspected. Also, the computer was starting up very slowly, so a room I had already paid for (and really should've just left the key for) took ten minutes of waiting. Though the signs above the reception desk were hilarious to try to decipher. The pictographs in Portugal have been overall excellent.
We packed up our VW and drove to Tomar. It was a green town in small dip in the foothill, with a winding route up to outside the monastery walls.
Tomar housed the Knights Templar, so all of the pop culture that increased their mystique recently increased our tendency to explore.
First we circled the gardens, then up the wall to some of the turrets.
By the time we got back to the front door, a group of Chinese tourists had arrived as well. Selfie sticks galore!
There were three different cloisters, with halls between each, then a monk dormitory on the top floor. There were at least four floors, and we needed to walk every step of all of them.
The monastery had come together in some pieces, with the most odd being the Manueline (the king who rebuilt after the earthquake, I think) window. A couple floors had been cut off to make space for it, so the cloister just had this outjutting with a giant window in it.
There was also a chapter room (housing) that was roofless. They ran out of desire to finish it, so when they did a royal ceremony in there once, they put sails over it as a temporary roof.
There were rooms for bedrooms, rooms for studying, rooms for eating, rooms for guests to stay in. It's really hard to imagine the cold stone walls actually holding life.
After we paced back and forth, slowly circling down, I had cold feet (literally) and we stopped for a coffee, tea, and hot chocolate break for Alisa, Alex, and I respectively.
We popped back in the car as more trickles started, and found our way to Coimbra. We pulled in to what Rick Steves said was a free lot, but this guy directed us to a spot and waited while we finished parking. We asked how much and he kinda shrugged. Then we figured out he was just a guy looking for tip. The euro we gave him was really just insurance that he didn't break into our car.
Finding restaurants where Alex can eat well has been hard, so we did some research for Coimbra. As I said, if the biggest university town in Portugal doesn't have a vegetarian restaurant, then there's no hope for the country.
We followed the odd directions to a very cold, sterile mini-mall that will soon be in a wonderful location as Coimbra builds up their waterfront a bit more.
We went up one floor, then, remembering the translation ("second floor" means "second floor after the ground floor"), went up again to find a small cafeteria with trays of wonderful smelling entrees.
We were given the grand tour of the menu by a very enthusiastic server, pointing out the ingredients, bringing an asparagus out to show us when he didn't know the name, and telling us how it is all vegan as well.
That lunch was freaking delicious. Warm, homestyle food piled high, with a lemon thyme tea and a bean soup.
With that nourishment, we were off to walk up the pedestrian central of the old part of town. An annoying light drizzle had begun, so we didn't dally getting to the church at the end of the street.
I think this church was one of the most moving moments of the trip. We walked in and walked right into a group standing around the church singing haunting old hymns.
The majesty of the church, the rumbling bass of the male voices that were nearer to us and the heavenly echoes of the entire choir - it was breathtaking. Overall, not a remarkable church, but a remarkable experience.
The rain was still falling as we walked up and passed through the market building on the way to their elevator/funicular combo.
A glass elevator took us up halfway, then a tram finished up the trip.
The windy street up to the university center had students all over - really, all of Coimbra had students all over. We saw our first black cape - instead of just being the quirky thing it is in the US, the capes were actually proudly worn by the freshmen at a welcoming ceremony and continued to be worn after. It was a sort of uniform that means that the students' background isn't revealed - an equalizer.
Also along the way was a fraternity house with a skull and crossbones, as well as many graffitied political statements. These "pirates" are one of the many collectives where a groups of students live together and share meals. Like our frats back home, different houses have different reputations.
We reached the Iron Gate, but it was covered for remodeling. Our ticket had a specific time we could enter the library, so we looked at the church first.
It was smaller - still had plenty of ornamentation, including some great tiles and a renaissance altarpiece. You can only get married in it if you are an alum though!
We walked through the drips to the library. The door stays closed so as to decrease the amount of humid air let in. There was a sign with the next entrance (ours) and a group gathering around it.
The massive doors opened right at 4:40, and we walked into a trio of high ceilinged rooms with the knowledge of world as of the 1800s. It was two stories of shelves, ornate wood tables with inlaid mother of pearl, and tiles and painted ceilings of the Renaissance style.
I surreptitiously took some pictures. No flash so I didn't hurt the books, but not exactly allowed...
Really, it was like an ancient version of the dream room in Beauty and the Beast. Actually, quite a bit of this trip has been seeking out fairytale locations. Castles, stone walls, little villages.
But back to the university. The books can be used for their original purpose, but by scholars with some previous permission. It wasn't quite the student hangout that the library was at CMU though. Also, no nap pod.
We exited downstairs to a jail of some kind that was never fully described. Following signs labeled "Academic Prison" was amusing though. Gave the easy one-liner of "my college career was an academic prison."
We next went to the Grand Hall. The academic ceremonies all take place here, and it had a viewing balcony that we got very wet while walking (balancing) along.
With the rain still coming, but the pedestrian street not far away, we decided to brave the steep slopes and slippery cobbled streets to get down there.
We passed a church that had some importance. I have no idea now why, and we didn't go inside. Instead, we got some - you may have guessed - pastries and coffee.
Of course, the second we sit down inside, the rain stops. It was some good people-watching as we dried off a bit. Trendy students, other tourists, and a few randoms inbetween.
We finished up by the pedestrian main street after walking down a now staircase path called the road of ribs, because that's what it was originally made of.
I didn't think that the quinta (estate) we were staying at in the Douro Valley had breakfast, so Alex and Alisa grabbed some pastries while I set the GPS to Quinta de Marrocos.
Well, not entirely. We didn't have to be there until 11, and there was "the Venice of Portugal" that was only slightly off the path. So we swung by there.
It wasn't really worth it. We saw a canal with parked gondolas, then drove to a park in the middle of a residential area because it looked like it could be interesting (and wasn't).
I got stuck up a super skinny street, so did a super K turn (it was like a K turn if K had another line coming out of it). Then, after our unsuccessful meandering, there was a Telepizza and a parallel parking spot right near it. Bingo - dinner time.
The parking spot was pretty long, but on an uphill curve. I started great - rear wheel by their bumper, full turn of the wheel, back, wheel the other way, continue back...
Somewhere in the process, I might have hopped the curb. And I was perfectly parallel to the car in front of me?
It was a good belly laugh before a pretty good dinner. Camembert bites were yum!
And back on the road. It was dark and windy, and a little drizzly. We were pretty alone on the road. There was a grocery store on the way that we attempted to stop at, but it was closed. And I drove through a tube to try to get back to the highway... And drove back through it when Alisa got (rightfully) sketched out by the next road that Garmin wanted us to take.
We found the sign, then turned up a really high, sharp driveway. (This was the beginning of a trend for the next two days.) We knocked on the door of the house at the top as a giant dog greeted us - and happy, talkative Caesar answered the door!
He let us into our suite of rooms, which was a separate little house across the tiled patio. It was old fashioned eclectic - yarn rugs over the wood floor, a weird porcelain basin in the front hall, metal bed frames, and a comfy couch facing a oddly furry trunk.
We strolled down to his little shop to grab a bottle of wine before bed. It was both a great and a very time-consuming decision. Caesar had a captive audience, so he told story after story. All of them centered around marrying rich and moving to Portugal. His crazy neighbor was the center of one of them - married into a rich American family, started the cruises along the Douro, got a divorce, but is still close because they have a son that will inherit it all. Then one about a trio of friends that were all in school together, then all got rich and married and spent their thirtieth anniversary of meeting drinking through the Douro. I know there was at least one more story, but I walked toward the door at one point, and he said "Oh, you must want to go to bed", then regaled us with more stories.
It was awfully endearing. When we finally tore ourselves away, We just hung out in our little house, drinking and talking until the wee hours.
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