braga to soajo

Our hotel in Braga was south of downtown in a nice little apartment-y residential complex. The breakfast was tasty and the lady at the front desk gave us a ton of advice about what to do in town.

We've taken to asking people if they speak English, French, or Spanish, and they usually speak at least one. And if not, they've mostly eager to work around it. And every single person we've talked to here, without exception, has had a kind, sweet, slightly bashful, earnest manner.

Today, for example, we asked an older shopkeeper where the nearest grocery store was. He started to try to explain, looked a bit frustrated, and then just walked out the front door and around the corner, where he pointed up the street and said "fries" emphatically. He repeated it once more before smiling uncertainly and heading back to his shop as we thanked him. Up the street a ways, we found a supermarket called Froiz.

Anyway, Braga was fun. We saw more churches, ate some pastries, and took a tour of an 18th-century mansion and its sprawling gardens. We also got super legit Portguese roasted chicken that honestly rivalled Romados in Montreal.

From there we drove up into the mountains toward an airbnb in a little village called Soajo. That whole place is too much to even begin describing, but there are a couple pics at the end to whet your appetite for the next post. (Also: birthday pizza and beer, and a nice dog came and sat under Snap's chair.)