Cultured out & weathered in.
16 August 2006 | Still in Aveiro
Still in Aveiro. Uncharacteristically, all the forecasts seem to agree. What they agree on is that one of those ??~unseasonal depressions?? that seem to follow us about has worked out where we are and diverted South East toward Northern Iberia. This has meant that the usually ??~firmly established?? Northerlies have been replaced by a ??~very unusual for this time of year, Squire?? West to South Westerly force 5-8 for the next 3 ??" 4 days.
Quote from the pilot for our next port, Figuera de Foz:
?In strong onshore winds� (i.e. West to South West) ?it can be dangerous. A British yacht was lost in 1997 and waves were breaking all the way across the gap when visited in 1999.�
So, given that our current position is well sheltered, close to an attractive city with all facilities and, most importantly, dead cheap we decided to hole up here until aforementioned unseasonal depression buggers off back where it belongs (over Britain).
In the interim, a visit to Coimbra was planned. This involved taking the Comboio Regional. Buy your tickets in advance and the 120 km round trip costs just �1.50 each. Pleased with our forethought and planning we set off the next morning, tickets clutched in our sweaty little hands, to catch the 9:03 to Coimbra.
Things did not go exactly according to plan.
We arrived at the station in plenty of time, discovered which platform we wanted and waited dutifully for the train. At 08:50 a train pulled up gently to platform 4 as anticipated, but the little sign on the front telling you where it was going seemed to have blown a fuse. Undaunted, Bob asked a nearby station employee if the train went to Coimbra, and was assured that indeed it did. Just to make sure, Bob asked if we needed to be in any particular part of the train. We?? ve had this before where the front part of the train goes to the assigned destination whilst the last two carriages wander off across the country on a frolic of their own. ?Did we already have tickets?� he asked (only in Portuguese). ?Yes� we replied triumphantly. ?Sit wherever you like then� he said, so we did.
The first inkling that things might not quite be completely as they should have been appeared when a woman and her three children arrived, looking pointedly at the numbers on her tickets and at the seat numbers above us. We consulted our tickets, but there were no seat numbers to be found. Despite our offers to move she wandered off and sat further down the carriage.
The second inkling manifested itself when the announcement ?next stop is Coimbra B� came over the loudspeaker. Whilst heartening in itself, the fact that we?? d only been travelling for 18 minutes when the timetable stated that the journey took an hour was somewhat confusing. By now we realised that we?? d got on an intercity express instead of the local chuffer that stopped at every town, village, hamlet and isolated farmhouse on route. It pulled in to Coimbra B a mere 18 minutes after leaving Aveiro. Coimbra A, which was our stop, could only be a few minutes away, and we?? d be in the city 40 minutes early. Smug with our good fortune, we stayed put as the train pulled out of Coimbra B.
20 minutes at 200 kph later it became apparent that either (a) Coimbra was an inordinately large city, or (b) we were now halfway to Lisbon. Given the total absence of buildings over the last 20 minutes or so our money was on (b), and we resolved to get off at the next stop and get a train in the opposite direction.
15 minutes later our chance arrived when we pulled in to Pombal. (Look at your atlas). The good news was that the journey back to Coimbra only cost us �1:20 each. The bad news was that it was a local chuffer and took an hour & 20 minutes. So we finally alighted in Coimbra only 2 � hours after we set off and 1 � hours later than had we got the correct train originally.
Coimbra is the most culturally significant city in Portugal. It was the capital from 1139 ??" 1256. It has one of the world?? s oldest universities dating from 1290, with illustrious buildings and surroundings to match. The university is in the old town, crowning the Alcacova hill which overlooks the deep slopes down to the Mondego river. Everywhere you look there were the usual plethora of old houses, chapels, monasteries, convents, churches, cathedrals, narrow streets winding down stairs to the river.
We wandered round the university, trying to get enthusiastic over the wonders of a seat of learning still operational amongst squares and statuary, some of which was unchanged since before 1066, but it was no good - we?? d had enough. It was all starting to blur into a kaleidoscope of red roofs, squares, sculpture, gilded altars, baroque columns, fountains and monuments; La Coruna, Santiago de Compostela, Bayona, Viana do Castello, Oporto and Coimbra all intermingled and recombined in our addled brains. We were jaded with the wonders of the past. Couldn?? t face one more magnificent example of the beauties of our cultural heritage. Overexposed. Cultured out.
So we had a cup of coffee and caught the train back. Decided we need to introduce a bit of variety. More rambling nature walks, cycle rides through the countryside, bit of music, scrabble evenings, beetle drives, old re-runs of Australian soap operas. Anything but another bloody medieval bas-relief.
