Strangely enough, I’ve grown closer to a lot of my high school friends since graduating college. Maybe as you get older, you come to treasure old friendships more or something. This trend more or less started with a trip to Banff last year, and has continued this year with a lovely week in Portugal, mainly spent in Porto and Lisbon.
It was certainly an eventful week, full of egg tarts and hammers, wise sayings and terrible deceits,1 late nights and early mornings. But I’m getting ahead of myself—I have to save some of my sentimentality for the end of this trip report. For now, let me content myself with giving the traditional day-by-day account of our adventures and misadventures, starting with our arrival in Porto.
Family isn’t a feeling, it’s a Porto.2
The wise man
Most of us—me, Kyle, Ivy, Emily, Jerry, Maylin, and Yogi—traveled together from Newark, landing in Porto in the morning of June 21. Karena met us in the airport; Justin and Daniel would be arriving later. After clearing customs, our first order of business was to pick up the rental cars and drive into town to settle into our AirBnB. For some reason, despite living in Manhattan, I am somehow considered a trustworthy driver, so this task largely fell to me.3
It was honestly a fun experience driving in a foreign country for the first time (Canada doesn’t count). The streets felt very stereotypically European: lots of roundabouts and narrow cobbled roads clearly built before the invention of the automobile. The best part was that the speed limits were all written in kilometers per hour; it’s an exhilarating feeling to look down at the speedometer and see the number “120,” even if you know it’s only about seventy-five miles per hour.
Despite the cobblestones’ best attempts at destroying us, we all arrived safely at the AirBnB, where I immediately experienced an immense betrayal. You see, I had explicitly been told that I didn’t need any “fancy clothing” on this trip, so I proudly packed some of my favorite math t-shirts and such to wear. Imagine my shock when half the group changed into their most fashionable “Euro summer” outfits the moment they arrived at the AirBnB! Instant betrayal! Truly have I known what Caesar felt that fateful day in the Senate. Et tu, Brute? Then fall, Caesar!
Well fine, I’m being a little melodramatic. We spent the afternoon exploring Porto, with our first stop obviously being a random bakery to sample some egg tarts (which were absolutely divine). Our next stop was Livraria Lello, a beautiful bookstore that is perhaps one of the most famous tourist attractions in Porto. It’s easy to see why—the interior is absolutely stunning, although in a way that admittedly feels a bit contrived. I ended up buying a copy of White Noise, which I will probably get around to reading in a few months.
Next to the book store was the Torre dos Clérigos, a clock tower with a fantastic view of Porto’s old town. I can’t resist a good rooftop view, so when I saw in the distance other people at the top of the clock tower, I immediately derailed Ivy’s carefully-scheduled plan by going on an impromptu climb of the tower, taking about half the group with me. The view from the top was quite fine, although the unscheduled ascent did mean that we missed visiting the Porto Cathedral. But this trade was fine by me; Romanesque architecture isn’t even that good, anyway.
Our dinner the first day was at a tapas place with some really excellent dishes, although we naturally over-ordered. I will confess to making one mistake the first day: while ordering, I expressed a preference for more hummus rather than more cheese. This turned out to be a horrible mistake, as the cheese was indisputably the superior dish.
The second day was our scheduled outdoorsy day, with a drive to Peneda-Gerês National Park in the north of the country to do a bit of hiking and swimming. The drive through the Portuguese countryside was reasonably pleasant, although truth be told the scenery was not all that interesting.
But the blandness of the drive was more than compensated for by the fun we had in the park: we did a short hike up to a small, gorgeous pool feeding into a waterfall and got to go for a swim! The pool was the perfect depth for jumping, so of course we had to jump into the water for fun. There was also a watery cave with a couple of interesting features: a very narrow passageway just wide enough to squeeze through sideways, and a small but breathtaking internal chamber. Seriously, this thing looked like it belonged on the cover of National Geographic: a tiny cavern full of crystal-clear water, with a lone ray of light penetrating dramatically into its depths. I unfortunately don’t have any pictures because I did not bring my phone with me while swimming, so you’ll just have to take my word for it. I used to think that cave diving was just plain stupid, but now I kind of understand the appeal.
After getting out of the water, there was an amusing incident: you see, I had the problem that my body was dry long before my swim trunks were dry. So, if I put on a t-shirt, I would get the bottom of the t-shirt wet from contact with my swim trunks. Being an engineer at heart, I naturally solved the problem by tying my shirt up above the waist, effectively forming a crop top. Someone told me that I looked “snatched” in a crop top, which I am told is a good thing.
Anyway, we hiked back to the car and drove into town to get lunch and plot our next move. We had wanted to do another hike to see (and swim) a few more lagoons, but unfortunately it was getting a bit late, so we decided to just go to a nearby beach and chill. It was a fairly small, out-of-the-way beach at the end of a random road; the ground was a bit muddy, and the water was murky. I kind of wonder what the locals thought of a random group of ten Asian tourists showing up at this obscure lakefront beach.
When we had our fill of swimming, we drove back to Porto for dinner and a pleasant nighttime stroll. Here, I must confess that I made my second critical error of the trip: seeing a street vendor selling plastic hammers in preparation for tomorrow’s festival (more on that later), I suggested that we buy some. Note to self: Justin and Emily are not to be trusted with hammers.
The third day was yet another jam-packed day in Porto. After my morning run,4 we went to a fun little public garden with lots of peacocks and peahens,5 one of which was kind enough to pose for a picture. We were finally met by Daniel (who had arrived in Porto late) at brunch, before heading to the Bolhão Market to wander around and buy some sardines to try later. (Apparently, sardines are a local specialty.)
The next item on the itinerary was a highly anticipated one: we went over to a wine cellar near the riverfront to taste some Port wine, a particularly famous kind of fortified wine made in the nearby Douro Valley. There was a nice guide who explained the production process to us, although I don’t think I was a very good student, because I still don’t know what a tawny wine is. I also don’t really drink, so my job was mostly to enjoy the chocolate pairing and give my wine to my friends. Dumbledore did great things…
With half the group slightly tipsy after the wine tasting, we proceed to our next task: a river cruise along the Douro, which runs through Porto. There were some pretty solid views of the city, and it was nice to be on the water and feel the breeze. To accompany our lovely river cruise, Yogi blessed us with a wonderful story about his recent visit to the urologist.
Despite the fairly productive day thus far, we were just getting started. To explain how the rest of the day went, it’s necessary to provide some context: we happened to be in town on the day of the São João festival, a notable annual celebration that’s kind of hard to describe—basically, the entire city stays up all night having fun in the old town. The night starts off with grilled sardines and paper lanterns released from the town square, before everyone migrates to the waterfront to watch the midnight fireworks. The whole city adopts this surreal atmosphere, enabling fun, spontaneous interactions with strangers; you really have to be there to experience it for yourself.
Oh, and did I mention the hammers? There’s a ridiculously amazing local tradition in which you go around all night hitting (and getting hit by) strangers on the head with these soft plastic hammers. The hammers even squeak every time you hit someone! It’s so weirdly freeing to go around hitting strangers on the head; we as a society seriously need to normalize hitting random people with plastic hammers. Imagine doing that in New York City!
On account of the festival, the streets got progressively more crowded throughout the afternoon; by nighttime, I was physically holding on to Justin’s backpack to avoid getting separated in the crowd.6 For the initial part of the night, the vegetarians split off to go to their own restaurant, while the rest of us went to the square in front of the town hall to watch the lanterns drift up into the sky. We purchased our own lantern, and after some engineering by Jerry, we managed to light and successfully launch it.
After this initial success, it was time for some patience. You see, the vegetarians had somehow ended up eating at a fine dining establishment, which meant that we had lots of time to kill. We loitered in the square for a bit and ducked inside a Burger King to take shelter from a brief bit of rain. (Fortunately, the rain did not persist all night.) We also came across the fanciest McDonald’s any of us had ever seen; the sign outside proudly proclaimed “Imperial McDonald’s,” and there was a bouncer at the door! I did not try anything inside, but Kyle and Emily ventured in to get some food.
Finally, after the vegetarians and McDonald’s enthusiasts were done with their excursions, we regrouped and headed toward the cathedral plaza to see the fireworks. We arrived just in time to witness the fireworks, and afterward we followed the crowd down the narrow passageways of Porto’s old town to the waterfront, where people had gathered to celebrate. At this point, most of us were kind of tired, so we headed back to our AirBnB to retire for the night at around 1am. (Much to Maylin’s chagrin, I think.) This proved to be easier said than done, and we had to fight our way through the crowds most of the way back.
For our post-festival lunch the next day, we gave in to Ivy’s Chinese food cravings and went to a local Chinese restaurant, where the staff were fairly nice to us, probably because we spoke Mandarin. I will admit that I enjoyed having Chinese food again, but our lunch was a little bit rushed, as we had to catch a train to Lisbon early in the afternoon.
The train ride to Lisbon was quite comfortable; it turned out that, for the most part, the non-vegetarians had first-class seats, while the vegetarians were stuck in second class. Tells you something about society or something like that. Anyway, I’m happy to report that the first-class seats were quite spacious and comfortable. I got a bit of reading done (I recently picked up East of Eden, which has been pretty good so far), as well as plenty of staring out the window and watching the countryside roll by.
Upon arrival in Lisbon, we checked into our new AirBnB and then walked around a bit before going out for dinner. We went to a suckling pig restaurant, which was a bit of a mixed experience. You see, the food was really good but really rich. Unfortunately, some people (you know who you are) didn’t pull their weight, over-ordering and under-eating. So Kyle and Daniel ended up having to pick up the slack, and heroically put up a fight against the mountain of pork. They prevailed in the battle, but I fear the pork may have won the war.
The other interesting thing that happened that night: when we got back to the AirBnB, I noticed that there were quite a few small insects on the ceiling. Upon closer inspection, they turned out to be mosquitoes; I quickly rallied the others, and we closed all the windows and began the great Lisbon mosquito eradication program of 2025. We went through all the rooms killing all the mosquitoes we could find—I think we actually got most of them.
Lo! Cintra’s glorious Eden intervenes
In variegated maze of mount and glen.Byron
We spent the fifth day on an excursion west of Lisbon, heading out in the morning to go to Sintra, a famously picturesque nearby town. The town had many interesting features—the Moorish castle, small shops, various museums—but the most notable was probably Pena Palace, a colorful castle atop a hill overlooking the city. The palace was full of interesting exhibits and good photo opportunities; it’s probably one of the most well-known tourist spots in the entire country.
Also highly worth a visit is the nearby Quinta da Regaleira, the castle-like home of some rich person. It was full of whimsical details like fake ruins and the “Initiation Well,” a spiral stone staircase descending into nowhere. Perhaps my favorite part was a small tunnel system that led to the bottom of another well; several of us stood inside the well and chanted in Latin. Honestly, I kind of like whoever designed the Quinta da Regaleira; if I had that kind of money, I’d probably like to live somewhere similar.7
Besides being architecturally photogenic, the castles were also home to a variety of friendly animals; a peacock and cat struck especially nice poses and are included in the gallery below.
The grounds of these two castles took up most of the day, but in the evening, we went further west to Cape Roca, the westernmost point in continental Europe. I’d previously been to the southernmost point in the fifty states, so it was nice to add another extremal point to the collection.8 I love a good seaside view, and especially one with cliffs, so I enjoyed our time there. But I will say: it honestly didn’t feel that different from California’s Pacific coast…I think I’ve seen very similar views while cycling down Highway 1.
Unfortunately, we did not get to stay until sunset, because that would have been far too late; we still needed to eat dinner, after all. So, after enjoying the scenery, we drove off (in rideshare cars) to the cute little coastal resort town of Cascais for dinner. We wandered around the town a bit looking for a restaurant that could seat ten; in one particularly amusing incident, a restaurant employee tried to induce us to eat at his restaurant by pulling out the surprise Mandarin: hào chī, hǎo hē.9 We declined his offer and ended up eating at an Indian restaurant.
Dinner was good, and we took a pleasant nighttime stroll around town afterward, ending up by the marina.
The sixth day was devoted to properly exploring Lisbon. After a late start to the day (but some excellent egg tarts), our first proper stop was the monastery of Saint Jerome, which had an impressive cloister. There were some interesting monuments inside, including the tomb of noted Portuguese poet Fernando Pessoa. There was also a large room dedicated to the tomb of the novelist Alexandre Herculano; the acoustics in the room would have been particularly well-suited to one of Karena’s famous rooster crows, but alas, it felt disrespectful to try.
After the monastery, we saw the Monument of the Discoveries and then walked along the waterfront in the blistering heat to the Belém Tower, intending to go inside. Unfortunately, it turned out that the tower was closed, so we instead just went to LX Factory, a former industrial complex turned into a trendy shopping, art, and dining space. We had some really good Mexican food there (at least to my uncultured tastes), and there were some astoundingly expensive clothing stores, but the highlight for me was probably a fun bookstore in an old factory. According to a random newspaper clipping on the wall, it was one of the top twenty bookstores in the world! I’m honestly not sure about that one, but I’ll grant that it was quite nice.
The next stop was São Jorge Castle, the city’s old citadel, situated on a hill with a commanding view of the city. Standing on the ramparts, we had a great view of the sun setting over Lisbon, and we made sure to get lots of pictures. One thing that surprised me: there were peacocks sitting in the trees! It never really occurred to me, but I guess it makes sense that peacocks can fly.
Later that night, back at the AirBnB, another funny incident occurred. (Well, it was funny to me, because I was not involved.) You see, despite our best efforts, we had not quite managed to eradicate all of the mosquitoes in the apartment. In particular, someone10 ended up with a bite that started to blister, eventually growing alarmingly large. Daniel, our resident medical student, intervened, successfully operating on the poor victim to pop and drain the blister. You know, I really did not have medical operation on my bingo card before the trip. Despite not having been in the room, I will claim partial credit for the successful operation, because it was done using supplies from my personal first aid kit.
I forgot who discovered this fact, but somehow we found out that our AirBnB was right across from the offices of CMU Portugal. It would have been a great shame not to go after finding this out; I went over there with Justin, my fellow CMU alumnus, to get a picture. Unfortunately, there was no obvious CMU signage on the outside, and the front desk attendant wouldn’t let us up to take a look, so we had to settle for a picture with some random local institute apparently partnered with CMU.
The first actual tourist site of the day was Fernando Pessoa’s house, which was actually a really cool museum. I found out that I share a birthday with one of his heteronyms, a “bucolic poet, of a complicated type.” After the museum, we walked around the Chiado neighborhood, which was actually full of interesting places to visit. Perhaps the most famous was the Livraria Bertrand, which apparently holds the Guinness World Record for oldest operating bookstore. I also enjoyed stepping into the Church of Our Lady of the Incarnation to enjoy the peace and quiet; despite the crowds outside, it was surprisingly quite empty inside, with no one sitting in the pews. Of course, I had to tell Annabel about the Brandy Melville across the street as well. But my favorite place in the district was probably this random used bookstore that we stumbled across—I’m a bit of a sucker for the stereotypical used bookstore aesthetic, full of narrow aisles overflowing with yellowed volumes.
I enjoyed the afternoon spent wandering around Lisbon’s old town. Our group came up with a theory, namely that Lisbon is just the San Francisco of Europe. Some supporting evidence: (1) the city is quite hilly, (2) there are trams, (3) there’s an iconic red bridge,11, (4) it’s located on the western coast of its continent, (5) the terracotta tiles resemble those commonly found in California, and (6) there is a CMU satellite campus. Personally, I found the case quite convincing.
For dinner, we went to Time Out Market, which is an international chain (in fact, I’d just been to their Boston location during my recent visit); apparently, Lisbon is the original location. After dinner, we just hung out by the waterfront for a while, enjoying our last night in Portugal. The next day, we would fly back to the United States and part ways again, probably not to be reunited as a group for at least another year.
There are lots of other things to tell about this trip. Justin unexpectedly blossoming into a philosopher, climbing into a hole, and being initiated into, uh, strange mysteries.12 Karena failing the Turing test multiple times and spreading bald-faced lies about doves. Daniel showing up in his decidedly non-dad outfit, ready for the festival night. (“I was unfamiliar with your game.”) Ivy ordering a fifth (?) piña colada from the same fruit stand. Yogi trying to convince everyone who would listen to get a clerical tonsure. Maylin somehow managing to find vegan egg tarts, despite the name sounding like an oxymoron. Jerry going out to find a cigarette to participate in European culture. Emily being a menace with a digital camera and taking almost two thousand pictures. Kyle having like ten glasses of wine to compensate for us non-drinkers in the group.
Barring a few friendships that stretch back into earlier childhood, I met most of these people in my freshman year of high school, which means that we’ve been friends for ten years now. And what an eventful decade! I passed through all of high school, all of college, and the first two years of young adult life. The past ten years have produced a wealth of memories—many good, some bad, and several complicated. People sometimes say that the days are long but the decades are short. (Yes, it’s a cheesy quote, but I’m in a cheesy mood.) Looking back, I guess I’ve found that to be true.
It’s simultaneously strange and delightful to see the ways we’ve all changed and the ways we’ve all stayed the same. I wonder what the high school Eric would have thought if you had told him that, in ten years, he’d be standing in a plaza in Porto with these people, watching paper lanterns drift up into the sky, or that they’d mean as much to him as they do now. I suspect he would have just shrugged and gone back to building his robot or conjugating some Latin verbs.
I think we have enough interest for at least one more group trip next year. You know, I’ve heard that New Zealand is quite nice…
As a famous proponent of the truth, I, of course, was never on the deceitful side. No, there’s absolutely no particular reason why I feel the need to defend my reputation on this front. Next question, please.↩︎
I sometimes wonder if I include too many inside jokes in these posts. For the benefit of the uninitiated: yes, that sentence reads as intended.↩︎
It made sense that Yogi, a Californian, was the other driver.↩︎
:-)↩︎
Fun fact: did you know that the peafowl’s call is actually produced by the wings? See, doesn’t it sound ridiculous when I put it that way?↩︎
The small dog was on a leash?↩︎
Well, assuming world hunger was already solved and such.↩︎
You know, maybe it would have been cool to try to visit the southernmost point in the Americas while I was in Patagonia earlier this year, but alas.↩︎
“Good food, good drink.”↩︎
Though it’s a trivial story, I will keep the personal medical details anonymous.↩︎
In fact, Lisbon’s 25 de Abril Bridge was apparently built by the same firm as the Bay Bridge.↩︎
I can’t repeat them here, because I take pride in running a family-friendly blog.↩︎
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