Judged in Porto and found Fashion Lacking
The first time I was in Porto, it was early April and Porto was still chilly and very wet. Three weeks later I loaded myself onto a bus in Santiago and traveled in three hours what had taken me two full weeks to walk. It was a little mind-bending, and I watched out the window for signs of the path beside the highway. I emerged from the bus station like a mole from the ground, with a tourist map in hand. I scanned around for a landmark - and then began to weave my way towards the city centre. I don't know why I was so hesitant to take the Metro, it was right beside the bus station, but I think you miss so much when you are underground. You learn so much about a city by walking the streets. Once I saw Sao Bento train station, I breathed a huge sigh of relief, I was back in somewhat familiar territory. You have to picture me at a street corner waiting for the light to change. Mid 50s, massive backpack, travel weary and dusty from my walk across town - clunky blue hiking boots a...