1) Up early according to plan and down to breakfast. Only two other couples were there with me when the buffet opened. The nice young man behind the buffet asked for our room numbers, and there was a bit of confusion when both couples, who were clearly traveling together, gave the same room number. “Are you quite sure you know where you spent last night?” I asked archly before I could stop myself, and we had a good laugh.
1a) Turns out one couple was in [Room Number] A and the other in [Room Number] B.
The view from my room. Observe the fog.
1b) I had hoped to sit outside in the pretty courtyard, but the fog was heavy and quite damp.
2) By 9:15ish the fog had given way to my guide for the morning, José, who brought me first to the nearby botanical garden — of which I knew nothing. What a beautiful spot! The most unique feature was a garden near the back for the sensory-impaired, with plants labeled that could be felt, smelt, and tasted even. Mother would have been absolutely thrilled with it.
3) Our perambulations through the garden led us back to the remains of the Roman aqueduct, and then uphill back toward the university. We stopped fairly often for José to share particular information about — well gosh, just about everything.
3a) There was a road race about to start, so I was attuned to seeing groups of runners about. While José and I were talking at the top of the hill, on a university plaza, we saw a young woman runner wipe out on the mosaic pavement. Other runners in her party took care of her; she was able to stand and walk away under her own power, so it didn’t look like she suffered any serious injury.
4) José then brought me into the beautiful old courtyard that survives of the University of Coimbra, the oldest university in Portugal. Ablaze with sunlight and full of large tour groups, José brought me to the extreme edge, where I peered over to discover — my hotel!
See that cluster of cacti just beyond the roof line? I think my room is underneath it.
5) Then down a nearby flight of stairs and past the Exam Tree (so called because it always blooms at exam time in the spring — much like the rhododendrons at ye Instytytte precede Reunions), to the entrance of the famous library. First I was shown the tiny cells where students were, um, held, for who knows what infractions.
5a) Then we went up a flight to a small library room with low ceilings. The old bindings of the books — some all black with gold, others all white with gold — enchanted me, but alas, photography was forbidden. Quite a group had assembled when we got the stern speech, in Portuguese and English, from the young woman attendant that we would have only ten minutes in the library and photography was absolutely, completely, totally, and utterly forbidden.
5b) Without me realizing it, José had positioned us so that we would be first up the stairs when the library was open. And my goodness — three enormous rooms with mezzanines and ceiling frescos and built-in ladders and immaculate, magnificent woodwork — the first thing I could think of was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. They must have been inspired by this library. Even the way the room smelled was wonderful.
5e) José shared some facts about how students had to behave when studying in this room, for instance — no shoes, because they made noise and might damage the beautiful tables they were sitting at, and they couldn’t walk down the center of the room, because it would have distracted others. I remember learning in the 1990s that Radcliffe girls in the early 20th century were not allowed to walk down the center aisles of the Harvard libraries.
5f) We really were shooed out after ten minutes, back into the sunny courtyard. José explained that they keep the library unoccupied for ten minutes between each group of tourists to help control temperature and humidity.
The exam room. That’s the rector’s chair in dark green. The speaker’s podium is at center.
6) We then saw some palace rooms, including the guards’ room with its display of halberds, and the famous exam room where candidates defend their theses.
7) Then downstairs again. I passed on the seeing the chapel since so many people were waiting to get in. Our next stop — talking all the way — was the terrace of the local museum, where we had excellent coffee and conversation. In some ways that was the best part of the excursion, relaxed conversation in beautiful surroundings.
Our view from the museum terrace.
8) Our break done, we descended further to the fraternity house equivalent of the university. Some of them were tricked out with a lot of graffiti, including some messages hostile to tourists like me.
Obviously I took a photo anyway.
9) José and I parted ways on the main drag, and I proceeded to lunch at his recommendation, Sete: a light and creamy vegetable soup followed by a roast suckling pig pie. José had talked so enthusiastically about the taste and texture of suckling pig, I felt I should try it. A good choice.
9a) I was seated outside near the entrance, and I saw a party of tourists approach. “Do you have any salad?” one woman asked. “We’re just looking at the menu.” The host gestured toward the menu, and after a bit came “No, this isn’t for us.”
10) Then came the next ascent of Mount Everest. I tried a different way from before, and the benefit was revolutionary graffiti seen on my drive in from the station.
11) My final push brought me to the entrance of the museum. Should I go in, or go back to the hotel for nap? I know what you’re thinking, but . . . the museum won out. First the Roman cryptoforum in the basement (obviously), then a superlative exhibition of sculpture, then their permanent collection of paintings and metal work. I was loving every bit of it, but my ankles were not. Finally I hobbled through ceramics and fabric (mostly sumptuous vestments), and then I was free.
Santa Ana, one of the many beautiful sculptures on view.
12) I absolutely had to put my feet up at least, but then I was out the door shortly after 5 for the next big thing: a performance of fado at Fado Central. Coimbra is unique in that fado here is mostly performed by men. Here I enjoyed a performance of two veteran guitarists and two current students who sang. The richness of fado is beyond my description.
12a) Afterward the audience was invited for “a cup of port” in the external patio out back — a handy way to clear the small auditorium before the next show. The “cup” was really a shot glass, and I thought it was very good port. Ended up staying longer than I would have because there was no place to put the glass down!
The fado stage before the performance.
13) Dinner on the main drag at a different restaurant, where I could read A Very Short History of Portugal and eat a “bife,” a steak that came, improbably, with two large prawns on top.
14) Climbing Everest again as I’d come originally, I noticed the gourmet chocolate shop I’d seen while waiting for Fado Central to open. So of course I ducked in. The delightful young woman was talking to two customers about Rome and an unhappy love affair (or something) she’d had there (or didn’t), I don’t remember. Having been to Rome myself, it was a bond between us, and she and I had some pleasant banter while I bought chocolates — banter between ourselves, and with the two Norwegian ladies who had come in behind me. Rarely have I enjoyed buying chocolates so much.
15) And so to bed! José had encouraged me to get a glass of sparkling wine at the hotel bar and watch the sunset from the roof garden (which I think is just over my room), but the sun was already down by the time I got back. Tomorrow, then, is my last chance!
