December already feels like a busy month all by itself — with school events, after-school activities, and work on top of everything else. I had planned to take three days off before the holidays, while Igor had to keep working anyway.
But of course… why would the plan actually stick and stay simple?
So on Monday I first drove the girls to school, then headed to work myself to take care of a few last-minute things. Instead of being home at the planned noon, I only made it back around 3:30.
That “delay” immediately turned into rushing, because the clock was pushing us to get Nia to swimming practice and Nara to judo. Luckily, the drive to Nara’s training takes almost half an hour each way, so Nara and Igor used that time to go over the material for a test she had the next day.
Somehow, in all that chaos, we managed to get through the day. In the evening, all that was left was wrapping the little gifts for teachers and classmates — and my quiet hope that the next two days would follow the plan in my head at least a little bit.
The Battle Plan Against the Stores (That Didn’t Work)
Even though I had a carefully crafted battle plan to gracefully avoid the stores right before the holidays, it completely fell apart. There’s always something you end up missing.
So there I was on Tuesday morning at 8 a.m., lined up outside the stores, armed with my list and a quiet hope that it wouldn’t be too crowded. Of course, I ran into quite a few familiar faces, which meant that my “quick” one-hour shopping trip ended up taking twice as long.
Tuesday was all about big preparations for Wednesday’s dinner. Since there were more than twenty of us, it was clear the cooking wouldn’t take care of itself, and certainly not if we left it all for the last day.
Christmas Dinner and the People Who Are Family
Christmas dinner is our reserved time for the people we love. So it’s not just our immediate family sitting around the table, but also our friends. There’s a saying for that kind of family: family not by blood, but by heart.
In other words, people who don’t share our last name, but who do have a permanent seat at our table. And in our case, that’s absolutely true.
The day itself passed in a familiar mix of things: a little cooking, a little answering work emails and calls — all at the same time. A perfect pre-holiday kind of chaos, plus the usual drive to get Nia to swimming practice.
December 24th — My Favorite Day
And in the blink of an eye, December 24th arrived, the day that is closest to my heart out of all the days of the year.
The girls were finishing their last day of school for the year, Igor was wrapping up work, and I was putting the final touches on Christmas dinner. Dada set up the firehouse tables. Yes, really. Because of how many people we have, dinner at our place actually happens at two firehouse-style tables in the living room, which we try to dress up as festively as possible.
And finally, 5 p.m. arrived. Guests started showing up — some right on time, some fashionably late, entirely as expected.
For the first time, it all passed without stress or my usual bad mood. Everything felt simple… and a little magical. Maybe because someone very dear to me joined us for the first time with her two children, along with my mom’s friend Jožica. The two of them have been friends since first grade, which by my math makes that about 58 years — a long time and a beautiful friendship.
It was truly wonderful to spend the evening surrounded by people who make you realize you’ve hit the jackpot with your humans. Each of them is special in their own way, and together they create a kind of warmth that makes you feel incredibly lucky.
The kids happily prepared milk and cookies for Santa, who later left gifts for everyone. Slowly, the guests headed home, the house grew quiet, the girls quickly went to bed, and the two of us kept cleaning until about 1 a.m. — tired, but happy.
Holiday Pace, Viruses, and Home Alone
The rest of the holiday days passed in the blink of an eye.
We spent Christmas at home, and I mostly avoided cooking — aside from boiling some potatoes — the rest was leftovers from the day before, which absolutely counts. The day moved slowly, mostly spent on the couch, because Nara woke up with a cold.
I immediately went into full anti-virus mode, hoping it wouldn’t turn into anything worse and that our plans for Barcelona would stay intact.
And in the evening, the classic of all classics: Home Alone, all of us wearing matching pajamas that Santa had brought. If that’s not holiday perfection, I don’t know what is.
Neighbors, Eskimos, and the Garage
Next came our pre–New Year’s gathering with the neighbors in our garage. We’re really lucky — we all get along so well.
A small spread of food, the firehouse tables again, everyone dressed like Eskimos, mulled wine, homemade treats, and American pancakes for the kids. More food and drinks than we could possibly need, since everyone brought something. Maybe we should do it again just to use it all up.
Nara was already feeling much better — just enough for me to breathe a little easier. Of course, Igor ended up with an eye infection. Honestly, it never ends.
The Pharmacy, the Suitcases, and the Holy Trinity
Because I had basically been feeding Nara and Nia vitamins non-stop, our supply ran out quickly. So off to the pharmacy we went — eye drops for Igor, and then even a visit to the urgent care clinic for antibiotic drops.
Luckily, Saturday was a regular working day.
After lunch we started packing and realized it was going surprisingly fast. What took the most time was actually putting together our traveling pharmacy.
✅Cedevita
✅Čokolino
✅Barcaffe
The holy trinity is packed. We can finally close the suitcase with a clear conscience.
On the Starting Line
To top it all off, Home Alone 2, wrapped in blankets and pajamas, and then no more fuss — straight to bed.
Because we’re one of those families who plan vacations early, both for time reasons and for the budget, the idea was born back in late July.
I was sitting on the terrace of our apartment in Tenerife, drinking coffee and scrolling through my phone without any particular goal. Between ads for shoes, I noticed a news item: a direct Ljubljana–Barcelona route was launching in the fall.
The price of the plane tickets? Roughly what you’d spend on a train ride to Maribor and back, with lunch at Maistrov trg in between.
And that’s when the moment of truth arrived.
Before Igor even took his first sip of coffee, I served him my well-known line:
You know what I’ve been thinking…?”
After eleven years of marriage and two children, he knew perfectly well that this didn’t mean a conversation about which shoes I’d been looking at.
No. It meant: a new destination, a new mission, a new place to stay.
To be fair, the ads I see online only ever show shoes and flight connections. Coincidence?
Thirteen Years Ago
We were last in Barcelona thirteen years ago, back then with Igor’s sister Katja and our friend Ciril, who became Igor’s best man two years later.
Thirteen years ago feels, in my mind, almost the same as if we had never been there at all.
If we don’t go celebrate New Year’s as a family now, when will we? Later, when the girls are already grown and roll their eyes at us while walking down La Rambla?
From the first idea to a confirmed destination, it took about half an hour. Just enough time for Igor to check accommodation prices for the Christmas and New Year holidays and realize that, considering the season, they were surprisingly reasonable.
Family Meeting (Still in Pajamas)
About half an hour later, the girls, still half asleep, dragged themselves out onto the terrace of our little “house,” as Nia likes to call it.
With due ceremony and a bit too early for their liking, we revealed the news.
Nara accepted it happily, still half-dreaming. Already used to the fact that we’re always somewhere.
Nia, on the other hand… well. Nia would have preferred Terme Olimia ( a popular thermal spa resort in Slovenia, especially loved by families)
Nia trains swimming and is a child of order, chlorine, pools, and precise training schedules. For months now, patiently, in her opinion far too patiently, she’s been waiting for us to finally give in to a water-based holiday.
Barcelona may not have water slides or pools.
But it does have the sea, tapas, and plenty of new experiences.
So Olimia, for now, remains on her list of unfulfilled wishes. Barcelona, however, is here. Warm, sunny, and ready for us.
How We’ve Celebrated New Year’s So Far
Up until now, we’ve always welcomed the New Year at home.
In the most classic way possible: in pajamas, with a good dinner, a movie or two, and the obligatory countdown on TV.
Last year, we made a small, almost daring break from tradition. We celebrated New Year’s just a few steps away, at our neighbor Tom’s place, who puts up holiday lights every year that could make even Las Vegas feel a little jealous.
December, the Local Way
And so the decision was made: we’ll welcome 2026 in Barcelona. It will be our first New Year’s trip.
But before we pack our bags and raise a toast under the Catalan sky, there’s still our almost traditional pre–New Year’s gathering to look forward to. Every year, we host it right at home, in the most down-to-earth way possible – in our garage.
We get together with the neighbors over snacks, mulled wine, and conversations that tend to last much longer than planned.
This time of year is all about togetherness for us. It probably helps that both Igor and I celebrate our birthdays just four days apart. Laughter, conversations, and that comforting feeling that simply being together is enough.
We usually gather for Halloween as well, out in the garden, surrounded by pumpkins, lanterns, and children’s excitement. This year, because of our trip to Portugal, that tradition had to be skipped.
No harm done. Around here, there’s never a shortage of reasons to get together.
The First Time a Little Farther from Home
This year, all that homely warmth will get a pleasant continuation.
Once Christmas is behind us and the suitcases are finally packed, we’ll be welcoming the New Year a little farther from home for the first time.
In Barcelona, where we hope to be greeted by sunshine, city energy, and a new experience that will reshape how we think about New Year’s celebrations.
The view through the window promised a dry day, which was more than welcome, since the previous evening looked as if a rain cloud had been glued right above us. From our accommodation we stepped straight out onto Rua de Santa Catarina, the main pedestrian street cutting through the city’s old quarter.
Our first stop was a bakery for a quick morning coffee and a croissant, and just a few steps further we reached one of the most photographed churches in Portugal – the Chapel of Souls.
Capela das Almas – the Story of the Tiles
To understand why this church is so recognizable and one of Porto’s top photo spots, you first need to understand azulejos.
These glazed ceramic tiles arrived on the Iberian Peninsula together with the Moors. The word itself comes from the Arabic الزليج (al-zillij), supposedly meaning “polished stone” — or at least that’s what Wikipedia claims…
everyday city vibes
detail of blue-and-white azulejos
History says that the Portuguese king Manuel I fell in love with these tiles during a visit to Seville and the Real Alcázar palace, and returned home with the idea of bringing a similar style to Portugal.
The Portuguese adopted the tiles, refined them, and transformed them into something uniquely their own. Azulejos are not merely decoration, but a visual narrative woven into the everyday life of cities and churches.
Each tile is part of a larger picture, like a page in a book. When you stand before them, you’re not just looking — you’re reading. All 15,000 “pages” at once.
a 15,000-page book
Mercado do Bolhão and Santa Catarina — from Locals to the Whole World
People say that on Santa Catarina Street, you meet locals in the morning, and by midday you meet half the world — and indeed, it started filling up fast.
We made a short detour to the covered market Mercado do Bolhão, where we stocked up on fruit and spices, which sadly didn’t survive the journey back to Slovenia. Nara wished for strawberries the moment she spotted them.
Long ago, a natural spring flowed here, giving the area its name: Campo do Bolhão — the “field of bubbles.”
Walking among the vendors — one selling cheese, another herbs, others fruit and vegetables — you get the feeling the bubbles are still rising, just in a slightly different form.
Igreja de Santo Ildefonso – the Neighborhood Church
A short walk later, we find ourselves at the foot of the gently sloping Praça da Batalha, where the Igreja de Santo Ildefonso reveals itself through 11,000 azulejo tiles.
This was a church of the people – a neighborhood church, deeply rooted in family life. Craftsmen, merchants, and wine-making families were married here, generation after generation.
Santa Catarina Street ends here, and once again you become aware that cars, too, are an inseparable part of the city.
the church where Porto got married, cried, and celebrated.
São Bento – history on the walls and a grand tiled “bathhouse”
Another azulejos masterpiece is São Bento railway station. Crowded with tourists, yes – but for good reason.
As soon as you step into the main hall, you are surrounded by scenes from Portuguese history: battles, royal processions, rural life and everyday city scenes, all spread across more than 20,000 azulejos. São Bento is essentially a visual textbook of Portugal – except you don’t read it, you walk through it in just a few metres.
The space itself isn’t very large, which is why it quickly fills up with tour groups, each with its own guide trying to claim the best spot beneath the azulejos. So you end up watching two battle scenes at once — one on the wall, and one unfolding right in front of you.
meters of history
Before the station existed, a Benedictine monastery stood here.
For more than a decade, a single nun lived there entirely on her own.
Surrounded by crowds today, it is hard to imagine how empty and silent this place must have been when she was alone.
When she finally left the monastery in 1892, it was soon demolished and construction of the railway station began.
That long period of solitude later became part of local folklore. Porto says that the spirit of the last nun still appears at the station — a quiet reminder of what once stood here. They say that late at night, when the hall finally settles and tourists drift away, you might hear the soft rustle of robes or gentle steps across the tiles, as if someone were silently crossing the platform…
Of course, with all due respect to Portuguese culture — when you look at all these azulejos, you can’t help but think of one giant bathroom covered in blue-and-white tiles. And then there’s the crowd of people waiting for their trains… Beautiful and amusing all at once. I’ll end this thought here, before the good nun decides to come after me for my irreverence
The Most Beautiful McDonald’s in the World
This part of Porto was essentially one big construction site, so after a few improvised detours we somehow made it to Praça da Liberdade. The Square of Liberty, often described as the city’s living room. Here, the Portuguese — after all those colorful façades and blue-and-white tiles — wanted to show the world that they, too, can be elegant and dignified.
The square sits exactly between the old and new Porto, aligned with the river and the city hall. It’s framed by neoclassical buildings, massive façades, columns, symmetry, and the equestrian statue of King Pedro IV… all of it radiating a sense of grandeur and seriousness.
And then you look to the right. And there it is — a McDonald’s. Complete with stained-glass windows and chandeliers, supposedly the most beautiful in the world. They almost pulled off the seriousness.
Liberty Square
with very serious buildings
one Big Mac, please
A City of Churches
Porto is a city of churches. In the historic center alone, there are more than thirty, and over a hundred across the wider urban area. This is no coincidence. In the 17th and 18th centuries, Porto was an important religious and commercial hub, which is why brotherhoods and religious orders built churches on nearly every available corner.
Because the city is built on a hilly landscape along the Douro River, these churches appear in layers: one bell tower above another, façades facing one another, stairways leading to ever new viewpoints. As you walk through Porto, you get the feeling that the city grows upward and downward at the same time – and that its bell towers keep it all in balance.
Sé do Porto – the Beginning of the City
On the Pena Ventosa hill, only one landmark truly reigns – the Sé Cathedral of Porto.
Long before the Romanesque church stood here, this spot was a fortified Celtic settlement, later becoming the Roman stronghold of Portus Cale.
From here, the city slowly expanded: first toward the river, then upward across the surrounding hills.
Porto did not grow in straight lines, but in layers, shaped by the rugged terrain that defines it.
When you stand at the Sé, you are not just visiting a church.
You are standing at Porto’s point of origin – at the very beginning of the city.
It all began here
Construction of the cathedral began back in the 12th century, at a time when Portugal was still taking shape as a kingdom. That’s why its original style is Romanesque — massive, heavy, almost fortress-like. The clean, simple lines of the interior vault still give a sense of solidity and quiet.
Its exterior isn’t exactly pretty, but it radiates strength. It feels as if it wasn’t built to impress, but to endure. And that’s what makes the Sé so different from many southern Portuguese cathedrals; it isn’t bright or lavish, but firm and carved from stone. (Although later in Lisbon we did find one that felt quite similar.)
From its courtyard, one of the finest views of Porto opens up before you. It’s the moment when everything clicks — you’ve already felt the city physically, in your legs and breath, climbing all those steps. Only then do you lift your eyes and truly see the city stretching out in front of you…
where you catch your breath
A baptism was taking place inside the church, a street musician on the square was singing Clapton’s Tears in Heaven and we sat down on the stone steps of the monument with everyone else, simply enjoying the moment.”
Dom Luís I Bridge – Two Paths, Two Perspectives
You could sit by Sé for hours, but sooner or later the view of the bridge and all the life happening down by the river will lure you to your feet. From the cathedral’s courtyard, you slowly descend through steep, narrow streets. Eventually, the stone alleys give way to a wide riverside promenade, full of restaurants, cafés, and even more tourists — the very reason you’re here too.
Soon enough, there’s nothing to do but sit down again and admire the bridge once more — the same one you admired from above at Sé, only now you see it in all its true grandeur.
“Eiffel, but make it horizontal“
Dom Luís I Bridge is one of Porto’s most iconic symbols — architecturally and in spirit.
It was designed by Teófilo Seyrig, a former student of Gustave Eiffel, which becomes obvious at first glance: the massive iron arch, the precision of the structure, and the overall feel that makes the bridge both technical and elegant.
Completed in 1886, it has two levels: the upper deck is used by pedestrians and the metro, while the lower deck connects the riverside Ribeira with the neighbouring city of Vila Nova de Gaia, home to the world-famous port wine cellars.
Miradouro Serra do Pilar — a View That Earns Itself
It makes far more sense to cross the bridge on the upper deck, because that path leads naturally toward the viewpoint of Miradouro Serra do Pilar. From up there, the whole of Porto opens in front of you.
But we were down below, where the view opened… straight onto a hill.
We crossed the bridge on its lower level and soon realized we were among the few who didn’t quite think things through. For our “brilliant” choice, we rewarded ourselves with nearly a kilometer of uphill walking to the viewpoint — and everyone who reached the top was breathing hard… from joy.
No, honestly — it was worth it. Every single step. Below you, the river Douro winds like a snake, Ribeira swallows new tourists one after another, you see narrow alleys, red rooftops, Sé and the bridge, and somewhere far off in the haze the Atlantic must have been hiding…
It’s one of those moments when the city stops being just beautiful — it becomes a part of you.
Port Wine — the Story of a Fortified Wine
The story of Porto is, of course, also a story about wine. Port didn’t get its name from where the grapes grow, but from where the wine arrived. The grapes ripen far inland, in the Douro Valley, and the wine was once transported down the river in barrels on wooden boats called rabelos.
The journey was long, full of dangerous rapids, and the heat — combined with all the shaking and rolling — often began to change the wine’s flavor.
So during fermentation they added a bit of grape spirit, which stopped the fermentation, leaving some of the natural sugar in the wine. That’s how port wine was born — sweet, aromatic, and strong enough to “survive” the rough journey down the river.
When the boats reached the city, the wine wasn’t stored on the Porto side of the river, in Ribeira, but across the water in Vila Nova de Gaia, where conditions were perfect for slow aging in barrels.
Ribeira became the main port for exporting the wine. Here, the barrels were pumped out, arranged, marked, and prepared for the journey that would present Porto’s wine to the world.
saúde!
a cardiac-level sandwich
Francesinha — more than just a sandwich
We dashed over the bridge under the metro line, escaping the first drops of rain and hiding under the awning of a small restaurant.
Before the trip, I had watched a few YouTube videos about local food, and the Francesinha instantly caught my eye — at first glance it looked like a perfectly legitimate sandwich.
So now it was time to finally order this “little French lady.”First impression: a sandwich on steroids.
Because somehow, between two slices of bread, they managed to squeeze beef, ham, and something that looked suspiciously like sausage. Then they drowned the whole thing in melted cheese and a spicy sauce. And as if someone worried this still wouldn’t be enough, they topped it with a fried egg and served it with a pile of fries.
All that with the clear intention of rounding the calorie count to a neat 1500.
Thankfully, that uphill climb earlier probably saved my arteries.
The girls, of course, ordered something far more sensible.
Livraria Lello — a myth that lives a life of its own
To understand our next stop, we need to put things into the right context.
Ever since she was little, Nara has been a huge Harry Potter fan. It began with plush owls and magic wands, continued with LEGO castles, and then came the books. By second grade she had already read the first one — The Philosopher’s Stone. Since then, Harry has travelled with us on every trip — if nothing else, as a book tucked in her backpack.
So our journeys are often shaped, at least a little, by the young wizard from Hogwarts, and Porto was no exception.
Harry wasn’t there
pilgrims at the selfie shrine
When I was planning my visit to Porto, Livraria Lello — one of the most visited bookstores in the world — naturally made it onto my must-see list.
Why? The myth that J. K. Rowling supposedly found inspiration for some Harry Potter scenes right here.
At the heart of the bookstore are its spectacular winding stairs and the large stained-glass ceiling above them — but honestly, that’s about it.
The shop is small, packed, and rather chaotic, and most visitors are there mainly for that “perfect” selfie.
Rowling later said that during the time she lived in Porto, she never even set foot in Lello.
But myths have their own power — and Lello has become a pilgrimage site for anyone who has ever opened a Harry Potter book.
If you ask me, it’s pure tourist bait, and you can safely skip it.
Still, it wasn’t all bad — Nara found the book she had been looking for, and that’s what truly matters.
Clérigos — The Light That Ends the Day
The day was slowly coming to an end, the city lights were starting to flicker on, and the line in front of the bookstore was even longer than before. But after roughly 20,000 steps, one final act still awaited us.
Torre dos Clérigos — the baroque church that feels like the more elegant, brighter sibling of the austere Sé Cathedral — rises above the city with its 75-meter tower, visible from almost everywhere we had walked that day.
In recent years, the church has also hosted an evening light performance, a semi-surreal projection that completely pulls you in. The burst of colors and light left us speechless.
With our necks aching from looking up, we hurried back past Capela das Almas to our Portuguese home, racing the approaching storm.
On the third day of our journey, we left Porto and headed south. A morning train ride, a stop in Coimbra, and our arrival in Nazaré divided the day into three chapters, each with its own rhythm. From the buzz of the city to the waves of the ocean.
Departure – goodbye Porto
Today a shift to the south was waiting for us, so we got up early to pack. In nine days we would be sleeping in three different locations, so we decided to travel with backpacks. Carrying everything on our backs is definitely more practical and far easier than dragging suitcases around. Especially when you realise that Portuguese cities are anything but flat.
The metro stop close to our accommodation saved us from a wet start to the day, since it was still raining. At Campanhã railway station we caught our train. I had bought the tickets about a month earlier, since they are more than half cheaper and also allow you to reserve seats. Good thing too, because I hadn’t seen so many people on a platform on a Saturday morning in a long time.
moving on
everything we have, we carry with us
The Train Ride
As you leave Porto by train, the outskirts slowly give way to a wide plain, where the tracks almost touch the Atlantic for a moment. Eucalyptus plantations dominate the landscape, dotted with patches of pine forest. On the higher ground you can even spot a vineyard or two.
After about half an hour on the train, the landscape turns into a network of lagoons, canals and marshes. Because of all these waterways, Aveiro is often called the Portuguese Venice, except that there are no gondolas gliding through the canals — instead, there are larger, brightly painted boats called moliceiros, which were originally used to transport seaweed. We didn’t see much of them from the train window, though, because the rain was coming down in sheets.
Why a stop in Coimbra?
The train doesn’t stop anywhere near our final destination, so I planned a break in Coimbra, since we would have had to switch to a bus anyway. Why Coimbra? Well, here the little magician in me stepped in again. This is one of the oldest continuously operating universities in Europe, founded back in 1290. For a long time, as the country’s only university, it shaped the Portuguese elite.
The university complex stands on top of a hill — nothing in this part of Portugal is ever really “flat”. The symbolism is clear: knowledge is something you have to climb towards. As for us… we climbed it by taxi.
Hogwarts in the Making
Which brings us to the real reason we came to Coimbra: Harry Potter.
Students wear traditional black uniforms with flowing capes — the very look that inspired the wizarding robes in Harry Potter. J. K. Rowling herself confirmed it.
with wizards
A Library with Special Protection
There’s something truly unique here — the Biblioteca Joanina, an 18th-century baroque library built as a self-contained microclimatic space. Its walls are incredibly thick, its wood is a special type, and the windows let in very little light. All of it designed to protect the paper and book bindings from humidity. Photography is forbidden, so I’ll try to paint it with words instead.
After climbing steep steps with a 20-kilogram backpack, you enter a room that holds around 70,000 books, manuscripts and maps. The space is smaller than you’d imagine and rises high — eight to ten meters — just enough for three levels of beautifully carved shelves, accessible through hidden doors.
And then there’s the library’s own “night watch”: a permanent colony of bats, Miniopterus schreibersii, who feed on insects and have been acting as a natural protective system for centuries.
bat protection
It really is just like the saying goes: you arrive as a visitor, but you leave as someone who’s taken a piece of this place with you…
Towards the Atlantic
We took a taxi down the hill to catch the 1:30 p.m. bus that was supposed to take us all the way to the ocean. The hills soon give way to gentler terrain, olive groves start appearing, and here and there even a vineyard. The bus passes through Leiro, a place that at first glance doesn’t promise much. Just a town like any other — shops, apartment blocks, a small factory — and then, between the facades, you suddenly glimpse a hilltop with something on it. But you can’t quite make it out.
When the view finally opens up, you realise that you’ve been riding beneath a castle the whole time — and it looks truly impressive. I later read that the whole area used to be known for vast pine forests. It was from here that Portugal sourced the timber for its ships during the era of discoveries and conquests. Definitely worth a stop some other time!
The ocean isn’t far now. You step off the bus, grab a coffee and a sort-of chocolate pastry, load up your backpack again, and quickly check Google Maps to see where you’re supposed to go.
And here’s where we messed up. Or Google did. Or probably both. We ended up walking almost half the coast before we found the right path to our accommodation. But honestly, it wasn’t exactly suffering. Quite the opposite.
First came that unmistakable Portuguese wavy pavement we’d already walked on in Porto… as if it went on forever.
Then, on the right, a vast, wide beach, reminiscent of Copacabana – but empty, and because of that, even more beautiful. Truly. Pure suffering.”
waves on land
a beach that wins you over
Transit Home No. 2
This was honestly one of the nicest places I’ve booked through Booking in the past few years. I’m pretty sure the little balcony with its ocean view had something to do with it — the kind of spot where the photo basically takes itself.
the little balcony
Port Wine and a Walk into the Dark
Over dinner we tried some port wine — similar in aroma to blueberry liqueur, sweet in taste, but smoother to drink. Here they served it as an aperitif. As we’d already noticed in Porto, it’s quite a bit stronger and usually closer to 20%.
Of course we couldn’t resist ending the day with a walk along the beach. The only lights are by the road, while the beach itself is nearly 200 meters wide, so once you’re in the middle, you’re standing in complete darkness. And when you finally reach the end and hear the waves you can’t see, it becomes a little eerie — and somehow even more magical.
The City of Waves
Nazaré is famous for having the biggest waves in the world. Not on the side we were on, though — those are on the northern side.
If that’s really true, we’ll find out tomorrow.
