The Hillbilly Viking

Nordic Wanderlust. Appalachian Apathy.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

This is the final blog post in this latest travel escapade as we begin the eighteen hour, ass-numbing series of connecting flights back to Chattanooga. Currently, we are sitting on a leg from Porto to Amsterdam dutifully lining our tray tables with KLM’s stingy allotment of South African wines and saying tchau to our last chance to practice Portuguese “in the wild.” Granted, it’s with statuesque, Teutonic flight attendants who are dressed in powder blue jumpers, which is a fashion choice that should really be discouraged after the age of 18 months, but they are corporate-cheery and multi-lingual AF.

Danke, KLM.

Was February a good year for chiraz?

Our last two days were spent in Porto. It’s a little too much city for our humble, hillbilly tastes, but we had some paperwork to drop off with our attorney, and we did stumble across an amazing open market that made me consider buying an insulated checked bag and dry ice for the trip home. Carpaccio, anyone?

Mmmmm, meaty.

We’re more than a bit melancholy leaving Portugal, and I’m sure that the next 18 hours of high altitude, day drinking will do nothing to turn that around. As an American, I want to be able to snap my fingers, lay down my credit card, and make our emigration happen immediately. Sadly, the reality is that we are not in Kansas anymore and there are month’s long, bureaucratic rabbit holes that need to be flushed before we are flying back in the other direction for good. Oh, Broomhilda, mais vinho de Africas, por favor.

Since it looks like I have nothing but time on my hands, and no one wants to read a post of me crying in my beer, perhaps it’s best I just parse through the hundreds of pictures we took this week and share some of those instead. Enjoy…

Arte de Rua

Because real art ain’t hangin’ in no museo.

Sanctioned.
Unsanctioned, but better.
Some of the most beautiful exterior brick I’ve ever seen.
Actually, Boomer, it will probably be streamed.
You’d think we wouldn’t need to remind anyone. You’d think.
Bonita!
Where do they find the time?

Comidas e Bebidas

Because I will never apologize for taking pictures of food & drink.

I didn’t want to, but it is duty free. Duty is right there in the title.
How bacalhau can you go?
The server later apologized for forgetting to remove the glass. Not to worry. It didn’t thwart us.
Adult juice boxes. So cheap!
Aww, scallops come here with their own little plates all built in and shit.
For whatever reason, we ate a lot of Indian food this time. Not complaining, just noting that Indian food rocks everywhere.
Well, that was a McError in judgment.
These are so adorable that I keep a picture in my wallet like grandchildren.
I will never get used to the amount of cold cuts on European breakfast buffets.
They brought me the wrong thing. Ate it anyway. Tasted like chicken.
Patty’s dream dish.
My dream dish.
Everyone likes pizza.
(Careful, those olives aren’t pitted!)
I have never eaten gelato in Europe. What is wrong with me?
Holy See approved.

Mais o caminho

Walk this way

Is that a Camino in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
Camino starter kit.
Caminos R Us.

Os amigos

I get by with a little help from my friends.

I currently know more about Ahkram and his family in Morocco than parts of my own tribe.
Pizza making friends are the best kind of friends.
Local connection made.
Eli is also our new realtor.

Diversos

et cetera

This seems more like a leftover from the Finland trip, but nope.
That’ll do, Donkey. That’ll do.
Who knew that Kris Kristofferson was so big here?
I guess the Latin Lothario has diversified into textiles.
Crabby because we can’t stay.
Until next time…

mkarvinen

, , , ,

Leave a comment