Apologies that this update has taken several
days! We have been unbelievably busy
(and jet lagged), but this post is probably the most important of all to get
out quickly. TLDR: yes, we are safely in
Portugal in our new apartment!
Click on the photos below to enlarge and scroll through them, then click in the black outside a photo when you're done.
Our last days at the Extended Stay in
Mukilteo were busy with final packing and purging, trips to our storage unit
and bringing boxes of stuff to Cindy and Jeff, our friends/family and gracious
stuff absorbers. Finally Departure Day arrived
on June 25. We checked out from our room,
said fond goodbyes to the staff who had taken such good care of us for over a
year, loaded up the rental SUV with our last belongings, and headed to the
airport.
Our trip to Portugal was to entail a 6:05 PM
flight to Amsterdam, 10 hours long, a one-hour layover, and a two hour flight
from there to Porto. We were to arrive
there at 3:40 PM on June 26, the following day, just about right to stagger
around for a while and collapse into bed.
We had four good sized suitcases and four
carry-on items, which we bore like pack animals into the Delta terminal. The agent there was kind to us and overlooked
three slightly overweight bags. We still
paid a premium for the extra bags, but we made it through security and to the
gate with plenty of time.
The flight out of Seattle was beautiful, on a huge Airbus A300-900 with clear early summer weather and lovely views of the mountains and sound.
The flight to Amsterdam was, well, miserable. The plane and attendants did everything right, the food was good, but Gerrit couldn’t distract himself with movies because the ear buds didn’t work for him, and neither he nor Pat could get anywhere near comfortable. No sleep for these two. The sunset/sunrise was spectacular though.
Our connection at Amsterdam was short, so we
hustled off the plane. There was only
one reader board in the arrivals area, though, and the one panel which had our
Porto flight on it was out of service so we had no idea what gate it was on. Off we trudged with our cumbersome carry-ons
to an information kiosk.
...where we learned that our flight had been CANCELLED!! Looked like there would be a slight change of
plans. We rescheduled to the next available
flight, tomorrow morning. Delta made
good by providing us with a nice hotel room and meal vouchers, so we caught the
shuttle to the Corendon hotel and checked into a nice room. Dinner was a buffet with loads of delicious
options (and wine on tap). Finally,
quite exhausted and unable to keep our eyes open any longer, we tumbled into
bed at about 8:30 local time. We’d been
up for close to 30 hours.
We had to get going at 4:45 the following
morning though. Back to the airport we
shuttled, trudged I’m sure at least 15 miles to our gate (which was literally
the farthest point in the airport from check-in), and rested our throbbing ankles
till the flight.
Everyone we had met in Amsterdam was kind,
patient, and helpful. This included
airline attendants, security personnel, hotel employees, and restaurant
workers. They spoke immaculate English
and really did their best to understand and help us with a smile. (Full disclosure: Gerrit is a quarter Dutch.)
The flight to Porto was uneventful, although our departure was an hour late. We had two
delightful children with different families in adjacent seats: a baby and a
young girl. Both were well behaved and
well attended by their parents, excellent little fellow travelers (and cute).
And then we landed on Portuguese soil! We wished each other
We met our prearranged ride after some confusion. He was crabby that the flight was delayed and then scolded us for too much baggage (although it fit just fine in his compact SUV and was just what we had signed up for). Off he raced through the parking garage, giving us a taste of the infamous Portuguese driving. He cooled off shortly though, and we had a nice chat on the way to the apartment. Gerrit tried a little bit of Portuguese, and the driver asked, “so, you know a little Spanish then?” Well, his English wasn't so great either.
Our landlord’s father met us at the apartment
and showed us around. Gerrit’s
Portuguese was a little more successful this time, but still elicited many
blank looks and confusion.
The apartment was beautiful, just like the pictures, and after bidding
our host
Later we walked to the local Lidl variety
store, which had some decent groceries and some of the supplies we needed. We finished some more unpacking and storing,
and made the bed with linens Pat had ordered a couple weeks ago to be delivered
here.
Sore and tired, we wanted to try the only
local restaurant within walking distance.
We headed up the hill to
Blank look.
Then, “
Blank look, some mumbling.
Gerrit was getting desperate. He pulled out his cell phone translator and
spoke English into it, “Today is our first day in Portugal.” Up popped the exact Portuguese sentence he’d
just spoken, and he showed it to the proprietor. The proprietor squinted, tipped the phone up
and down, and pretty clearly didn’t get it at all.
Then came some confused hand waving and about
a 10% understanding level on both sides, and finally it dawned on us that his
kitchen wasn’t working. Or the chef was
out. Or he no longer served food. Something like that.
Relieved to be getting out of there yet still hungry, we said goodbye
(which we’re not sure got through) and left back down the hill. There were no other restaurants or cafés open
within trudging distance, so we shamefacedly stopped at a KFC on the way back. That’s right, the American fast-food joint
which has spread all over the world including a block away from our apartment.
At least here the young man sort of seemed to understand what we wanted, and we left with some chicken. Back home we put together a pathetic first dinner in Portugal with KFC, local Douro valley wine, and vegetables. Well, the wine and vegetables were excellent anyway!