Off to Lisbon...

My day in Porto was a good one I think....if anaimal based cholesterol hasn't totally saturated my synapses. I spent much of the day stalking various touristy type attractions, including the 250 stair climb to the top of the church tower. It was a lovely view, made all the more poignant when I realized that the screen covering the restoration work currently taking place on the facade featureed a 50 metre tall Pierce Brosnan looking all suavelike while shilling beer. I also tracked down THE sandwhich, the francesinha. Regaled by tales of its supremecy by my fellow travellers, I knew I must have one. It is a slice of white bread, topped by steak, chorizo, sausage and ham, topped by another slice of white bread with melted cheese on the whole thing. Coat the thing with a spicy tomato sauce and surround with chips, or freedom fries for all my republican friends, and you have a culinary masterpiece, or heartattack...I'm not sure which. After my comsumption of a menagerie's worth of animals, I set off to buy yet another scarf, which I have decided is the penultimate of all tourist purchases. It is cheap and lightweight while managing to add a bit of panache to my dreary backpacker garb. It is also a bit of European camoflage, as every single person from this continent appears not to leave the house without one artfully wound around thier neck. Impulse purchase needs sated I returned to the hostel to gather my new insta-friends for a bit of dinner at the restaraunt from the previous night. Even though we lacked a Portugese speaker, we feasted on various grilled meats (i literally had the best pork chop of my entire existence) and vihno verde for about 6 Euros a head. Then off to find some bars....both filled with the most disintrested locals ever. I spent yet another night hearing about how evil Bush is, which while in I'm in total agreement, I refuse to endure without argument or comment from a Brit...I take my Bush and raise you a Blair.....