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Leaving the beach behind we headed to the market in Barcelos, an attack on all the senses, actually that sounds a little harsh, it´s a place which infiltrates all your senses if you want it to.
Chickens with their feet tied together, lovebirds/rosellas/cockatiels/ (all part of the illegal bird trade) fluffy white rabbits in cages for sale, freshly baked bread, fruit and veggies from ripe purple figs to passion fruit, any type of dodgy spandex outfit in fluorescent....it was all there. We came away with a knife (capable of slaying any bears we might encounter or rough guide reporters), a chopping board, 2 fly swats, some underwear (D loves me in lime green fluoro!) and a traditional black beret. spot the tourists:)
Headed to Porto down the coast for some city living and booked in to the very elusive Orbitur (a campsite chain) site in Vila Nova de Gaia just across the river Douro from Porto. We jumped on the bus into the city for the ride of our lives, and almost the last ride of our lives, retired F1 drivers all live out their retirement years as bus drivers in Porto. We both agreed we´d never had such a journey and that includes bus trips across South America and China!
Porto is a great place at night, the river area comes to life and the banks are lined with great bars and restaurants. We stopped at one place, O Muro, and tried some local Vinho Verde, seafood rice and wrote in the photo album/books they have for guests to leave messages. The owner is an ex-Portuguese footballer and the place has a lot of character thanks to him.
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