Baiona was enlivened by the
company of others heading south, including Willum on Basjoc (single-handing his
Maryland-based yacht) and Arnie & Sally (in a large catamaran named
Salarn) who had come from Nova
Scotia and were heading for Barcelona to be an exhibit in the boat show
there. We spent an interesting and mildly horrific evening with
them, first sharing their wine and cheese then using Amoret's old
calor gas regulator (drilled out) and a calor-campingaz adaptor to build
a chemical engineering plant that would transfer liquid propane from a
european bottle into Salarn's american one. To our mild surprise we
survived the night and found in the morning that the transfer had worked. Just
before leaving we saw Arnie & Sally heading up the pontoon to get more
supplies of propane!
Fearing that a further day
in Baiona would mean having to eat another bargain lunch of chipirones (fried
baby squid) and paella in one of the charming alleys shown in the photo, we
headed off in light and variable winds and warm sunshine down the coast,
hoisting the Portuguese courtesy flag as we passed the Rio Minho. We comfortably
made it in daylight despite the best part of a knot of contrary current and a
wall-to-wall display of pot floats and other fishing gear. Unusual wildlife was
represented by a sunfish - a strange circular job that lies on its side on the
surface ineffectually waving one pectoral fin in the air. Presumably the other
one is doing something more useful under the water.
The harbour of the day
was Povoa de Varzim, a well-protected affair with a fishing harbour at the
downtown end and a comfortable marina further along. After gettting sorted, we
headed for the nearby Clube Naval where beers are a euro each and the waitress
never has change.
Part of the point of
stopping at Povoa was that it is at the end of a new metro line to Porto. Our inability to handle the rather Oyster-style
ticket system was sorted out by a couple of nice old guys, after which we
enjoyed the cheap hour-long ride to the big city. Downhill seemed like the right
way to reach the Rio Douro waterfront from Trindade station. On the way I
surprised Liv by screeching to a halt, pointing into a shop widow and
gibbering. Quite by chance we had stumbled over a shop specializing in water
pumping equipment, and sitting in the window among much mightier machines was
almost exactly the water pressurization pump that I needed to replace Amoret's
item which had failed in Falmouth and proved irreplaceable there or in
Camaret. (This morning was spent doing the necessary pipework modifications
to instal it.) Though the pump was plainly the highlight of our visit to
Porto, the city itself turned out to be
delightful. A beer in a waterfront cafe was shortly followed by lunch. I had
tripe and beans (a Porto speciality) while Liv
had an excellent pork cutlet. Refuelled with this, we crossed the two-level
bridge to the side where the port wine lodges operate. We felt that port-tasting
in the afternoon would be a recipe for a headache in the evening, so we had a
beer instead then re-crossed the river for a 50-min boat trip (yes, I know, we
can't keep away from them). this was fun but revealed that one would be
optimistic to try to moor a sailboat in Porto - unfriendly stone walls largely
occupied by the grockle-boats, a current running at 5Kt or more and plenty of
evidence that the Douro still serves as the sewer for Portugal's
second city.
Our trip back to
Povoa during the rush hour got us back too late for the
english-speakers' weekly barbecue, so we retired to the Clube Naval terrace (see
pic) for an evening beer.
As the marina lacks a
diesel pump (planned for the last 8 years but not here yet, we topped up
the tank with a couple of cans this morning and are about to set out for
the filling station to get them refilled. We'll probably move on Sunday if
the weather (which is currently hot and with only a moderate breeze varying
between E and N) looks suitable.