Remembering the maxim “Less Is More”, the weekend was spent just relaxing in this splendidly comfortable apartment and going to the river beach down the hill. We always eat big in the afternoon and light in the evening, so I made roast potatoes and turkey drumsticks for dinner and then we went late for a dessert and a swim at about 5 or 6. Bonny Bee stayed at home to do her work – she has an admirable work ethic and sets an example to us all.
But on Monday 5 August, after a dinner of rice with secreto ibérico, Bonny Bee had met enough targets to give her a break. I drove us all to Coimbra, seat of one of Europe’s ancient universities and a gem of a city.
Coimbra reminded me of some of the places in Poland and Slovakia except with a maritime climate. A combination of Bratislava and Poznan with a hint of the Provence, it had a restrained but lively atmosphere. Full of boutique shops, cafés and art installations, it was an appealing and enjoyable walk, even up to the top where the museum and old university was. The kids only really started complaining when we got towards the very top, a rare sign they were actually enjoying this walk…
We stopped at a café on the side of the hill on the way to the top. It reminded me of Montmartre a little. It had a pretty wide selection of desserts, including the fabulous pasteis de nata, so we settled down for a while under shade of the parasols. I not only had one pastel de nata, I also tried the rice pudding. Milda and Livia settled for the chocolate mousse and Dainoris had the rice too.
Sitting there under the parasol, with a stomach full from excellent desserts and coffees, we all had a really good mood. It was the right moment to attempt to climb to the top of the hill to see the old university and take a look at the panorama. Half way up, the moans began, but nobody suggested turning around. In fact, Dainoris actually relished the climb. Milda needed her mum to carry her, so I held Livia’s hand and up we went to the top, stopping a couple of times for the walking children to get their breath.
And at the top, we were immediately confronted by some Graeco-Roman pseudo bombast architecture (obviously built during a particular twentieth-century regime). Feeling disappointed by this rather ugly sight, I noticed a lot of tourists spilling out of a small gate in the wall. And that’s where the reward for climbing the hill was hiding. A majestic courtyard surrounded on three sides by some exquisite architecture known as the Palace of Schools, and on the fourth side by a mirador overlooking the River Mondego and the lower city, albeit over some rather awkwardly high modern buildings that blocked a direct view.
We looked inside the palace for a little, and concluded that it needed a little bit of work to modernise it. Going down to the main town again, we reached the principal thoroughfare that made the city such a tremendous place – pedestrianised, full of quality places to eat and drink without losing a packet of cash, and crammed full of handsome façades. Some were covered in the most ornate tiling, others were in Art Deco. Some took on a Haussmanian effect, and a couple gave off pastel-coloured Havana vibes.
In any case, this was the very first large urban area we had visited that the infantile band of scoundrels hadn’t complained about. San Sebastian? Too cold and wet. Gijon? Boring, steep, and full of dogs. A Coruña? Not enough playgrounds. Santiago? Too hot. Braga? Too sunny. Yet here in Coimbra, it was nearly 30 degrees and sunny, there were no playgrounds, plus it had a pretty big hill, and they mainly enjoyed it. Kids are bizarre creatures.
When we went through this street the first time earlier on, we came across a shop selling all types of material. We hadn’t yet bought any souvenirs from anywhere, so we settled on some dishcloths for the kitchen, a table cloth and some bathroom towels, all in the flamboyant colours of this florid country. On the way past there had been some buskers within a short distance of each other near some cafés. I would have gladly sat there for a drink but one was howling “Yesterday” by the Beatles. All I could think was that John Lennon had already suffered a brutal enough demise without being murdered for a second time… and so that place was losing a lot of custom with potential visitors trying to avoid having to sit through the pain of listening to Rocket Man being pulled through a meat grinder.
As we moved away from that area, the fading music in the distance sounding more like an inflatable raft being run over by an electric car, we were almost at the end of the main street. But just as we got there, we found a really good-looking pâtisserie with some excellent cakes. A man on an accordion was playing some proper tunes with real talent, and the guy serving our table was very efficient. We bought some cakes to take with us, and took a slow walk to a shopping centre to buy some underwear for the kids.
We don’t know what happened, but all their underwear has disappeared. So when I located a shopping centre close by, we walked up past some more lovely buildings only to discover it was the city’s covered market. Another few minutes’ walk was another shopping centre, but I had a better idea – let’s find a small boutique and give our money to someone who runs a shop. We found one just a hundred metres from our car. The lady who ran this children’s clothes shop had remained open a few minutes beyond closing time, unlike all the others in the street – and there were four or five other similar shops – and so was rewarded by us buying 18 sets of underwear, 6 for each child. It’s amazing what happens when you aren’t in a hurry to close…
We walked to the car park and drove back to Penacova. The children were all getting antsy and tired, so now was the right moment to go, but they had done well today: better than their track record would have forecast, anyhow. And now it’s time to get ready for my birthday – some mouthwatering food and an afternoon on the beach.
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