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Proud of myself for discovering cheap, long-term Newark Airport parking in a Hilton right across the street, I’m not so proud to report that, while I could see the hotel, I couldn’t find the entrance, only the exit at an awkward angle. After circling once, then twice, the third time I swerved into the out door. I feared this was an inauspicious start.
But not ten hours later, I was sitting in my first café.
Porto is a pile of a city, with buildings built cheek by jowl at crazy angles filling all available space. Steps and streets go up and up and down and down. Yesterday I counted 274 just here:
The Cathedral is central to Porto’s culture and history.
Inside it, this ‘jail.’ For disbelievers? I steered clear.
Around every corner, charm:
My first day ended on these stairs to Livraria Lello heaven, often called one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world.
There, a lovely woman, who saw me scanning poetry books, suggested this one:
Today, I’m off to Coimbra.
Virado para a frente.
Just thought of you and the dilemma of books and Time. Entered an old bookstore in New Orleans and felt the ebb of time immediately as I saw title after title of books I wanted to know.
Pictures are lovely. Want more!
Just thought of you and the dilemma of books and Time. Entered an old bookstore in New Orleans and felt the ebb of time immediately as I saw title after title of books I wanted to know.