Porto to Lisbon

Farewell Porto hello Lisbon

Saturday night and Sunday there were thousands of students in identical suits and stockings and black gowns all over Porto. Some chanting political slogans and gathering outside University Admin and the Town Hall and others just gathering for some student graduation related musical event, all a part of a ceremonial burning of their faculty ribbons, Queima das Fitas. 

After we'd been to a Brazilian jazz concert we braved bulk students in black, all with countless bottles of alcohol, spilling in and out the metro and running up against railway police for (it would seem too often) failing to validate their tickets. Then when we it got back to our hotel there was a crowd of students, mostly young women, all standing very still out the front.  It looked like was some kind of stand off, possibly a ritual "hazing" of some sort. But nothing much happened, so we went to bed.

 

In the morning there were students still dressed in their formal black having breakfast with their families, or being photographed proudly with them while gathering in big numbers outside the town hall for a ceremony. 

There were also a lot of other people asking for money around Porto, at outdoor restaurant tables and ATMs (doing their best to insist,  with us tourists) and more evidence of people sleeping in streets than we saw in Spain.   With nests of cardboard and blankets on the steps of closed shops.

I don't know if that says anything about hardship or about the different parts of Spain and Portugal that we are seeing, because Porto seems quite rough and ready, with lots of graffiti, and roadwork everywhere, so it may also be a question of tolerance.

On the other hand, the scale of this student event, and the presence of families everywhere did make us imagine there's an increased reason for sticking to education when there are so few jobs out in the market place.

Sunday afternoon we arrived in Lisbon to lodgings in the heart of the tourism square. Lots of beer, mementos and ice cream going on. We couldn't find a shop that sold bananas, milk and water until we were led to one by a religious procession involving incense, marching bands and lavender.

Then went to a recommended Indian restaurant, Tamarind, which was delicious. We were reassured that the food WASN'T spicy. We asked for extra chilli!  The chilli world tour goes on.

Anyway, the crisis here, for this restaurant, is a shift from 70 customers a night to 11. Melbourne, where one of them did her Masters, is looking good. 

The cheap fish cafe down the road was full.

We went for an after dinner walk to find a set of angels  painted on a wall that Grette had seen on the way in from Porto. One has an anarchist 'A' on its chest, another a crescent moon, then a star of David, a cross, and a five point star. And all making the peace sign. Also saw a graffiti slogan incorporating the 'A' which referred to essence and purity. Not sure how that fits together.