First gear, second gear, third girl and I am thrilled to be driving a stick again. Our luck, or simply the fact that we are in Europe, that we should get a manual when we finally decided to nut up, rent a car, and wonder through the parts of a country that you can't find if hitch hiking is illegal. Naturally, the first thing we did was empty the contents of our packs on to the back seat and assemble sandwiches to eat on the road. Not exactly home, but we did our best to make it that way. Thank god Eurocar didn't give us an automatic.
Personally, I'm a little shocked that they let us rent a car at all. A little strung out after an all night, sub-zero, bus ride followed by a staggering morning, our gate into the airport is no less than a wobble. The bright orange sign that looms above us says "Budget," and after asking the clerk if he spoke English, Leigh announces "right, we would like to rent a car" in a such a matter of fact tone that I was surprised the reaction wasn't a chuckle and "yeah, right." It might just be the fact that after 6 months of constant contact we can read each other's tones like a secret language, but something in the way she announced "WE would like to rent a car" was conscience of the joke of it all. WE would never rent a car to people like US, two girls who look like they might be fifteen and who clearly have no idea what they are going to do, how long they want the car for, or how much is should cost. To all of our surprises, the clerk presses the keys to our Suzuki Ibiza into Leigh's palm, looks disconcertingly at me, and reassures that I will not be the driver of the vehicle. Is it the sweat pants, the frizzy hair or the fact that I'm carrying a sack full of snacks that makes me look like a bad driver? But whatever, sure, I wont be driving the car..
Which is only a partial lie, most of the trip I occupy the passenger seat, begging Leigh to pull over for every road side cherry stand between Coimbra and Porto. Old women sell us the fattest cherries I have ever eaten, cherries so meaty I couldn't say they were a vegetarian product, by the kilo. I am sure collectively we consumed two kilos of cherries a day. Not that I can tell you exactly how much a kilo of cherries is. Six months outside of the US and we still haven't mastered the metric system. Either way, its a lot of cherries and still it is not enough.
Stirring clear of the exorbitantly expensive toll roads, we opt for the scenic route. Village after village ambles by in a blur or awnings, tiled churches, vineyards and gardens. It might be degrading to a country full of adults, but Portugal is cute with a capital C. Outside of the larger cities of Porto, Lisbon and Coimbra, the landscape seems to be aging with the people. Beautiful buildings, older than my country, are deserted with broken windows and the people hobbling along at a crawl and scowl at us as we drive by. This may seems like a sign that the Portuguese are unfriendly, but it is entirely the contrary. Get lost, ask directs or simply say "Bom Dia" to someone and the friendliness will blow you away, and sometimes in the wrong direction.
In an eagerness to be helpful, we have had several people give us directions that they themselves didn't know. Rather than admit that they can't help you, most will just make something up because they want to make you happy. With direct or misguided directions, shop owners have left their posts to walk us part of the way to the wine shop, restaurant, veterinarian (more on this later...) or hotel you are looking for. They'll spend 10 minutes in a language you clearly don't understand trying to combine hand signals and half Spanish words trying to send you in a direction. It makes me want to go home and find every lost person in Colorado and give them very specific and helpful directions. Although I am not a believer in Karma- at least in the spiritual way most people are- I owe the world a lot of good deeds, I feel like a kindness sponge here in Portugal.
ps. please forgive the spelling on this particular post- I am a terrible speller and the spellcheck on blogger isn't working currently, so I will have to return to it later.

No comments:
Post a Comment