Did George Lucas Film His Tatooine Scenes on the Beaches of Porto?

Location: Porto, Portugal

Friday June 4, 2010

Our big group was miraculously ready at 10 am to head to the market. We planned to go the beach that day, so we figured we would get some cheap food at the market and check out what a traditional Portuguese market was like. After purchasing some fruit and pastries from the stalls (everything in Porto seemed so much cheaper after the high prices in Madrid), we were about to set off for the beach. But some of the girls wanted to meet up with another group of IES students who were staying in a different hostel (accidental booking, I guess) at a beach North of the “best beaches in Porto” (according to Ismael). My group (Kevin, Lauren, Celina, Paige, Jade, Amy, and me) didn’t mind breaking off, since it was difficult getting thirteen people from one place to another. The other girls made it a big deal though, claiming that we were all on the trip together. Drama-llama, much? We ended up breaking up.

At this point, I could no longer use my Fujifilm camera because the “ZOOM ERROR” message appeared on the screen. The lens would extend and retract every time I turned it on or zoomed in or zoomed out. Thus, I have no more pictures of the Porto trip. This happened to me in Costa Rica, but it suddenly went away after a day. Not this time. Looking online now, I find that all sources point to sending the camera back for servicing. Too bad I packed all my camera receipts and insurance in one of the storage boxes back at Yale. My stupid camera is sitting on my desk now, still displaying the zoom error message whenever I turn it on. I may not be able to take pictures for the rest of this trip, instead, relying on the photography of others. No more pictures for the blog entry? Nooooo. L I guess I’ll steal other people’s Facebook pictures. Advice on what to do, anyone?

We took a bus down the 8 km avenue (the longest unbroken avenue in Europe, according to Ismael) to the windiest-freakin’-beach-I’ve-ever-lied-out-on. Seriously, imagine the Lincoln City beach. But instead of hopping out the car to stand there, hair-whipping around your face, in a hoodie and windbreaker, you’re lying out to milk the warmth of the sunlight with something wrapped around your head so the sand doesn’t blow into your eyes. Some Portians brought contraptions to block the wind: umbrellas, boards, fabric stretched over sticks… My towel would have eventually been completely buried if I didn’t shake it off twice between my naps. The water was cold, so I didn’t go beyond my ankles, but it wasn’t unbearably freezing like Oregon’s. All the white people in our group except for Jade got burned even though everyone applied sunblock. Paige (a white rising junior at Harvard) got the back of knees burnt. Yikes! While Lauren got her front half burnt. I guess people just weren’t timing their turn around time well enough. I do admit, my face was a little burnt from walking around the day before. I guess my daily SPF 15 face lotion couldn’t fight against the hot sun. But Helios knows what’s up when I break out the face-wrapping and the SPF 50 (except for those accursed days in Costa Rica, of course).

Photo credit: Selina Wan

After taking the bus back into Porto, we visited La Casa Música, a kickass music venue, the largest investment in the arts by the government of Portugal, EVAH. Oh my gosh, Kevin (Adkisson. Morse! Morse! Morse!) would have gone completely ape-shit (in a good way) for the angles, angles, angles. Walking up and down the metallic steps got me disoriented, making me feel like I was exploring the set of some sci-fi movie.

Photo credit: Selina Wan

After washing all the sand off our bodies at the hostel (to the point that Kevin was wading around knee-high water, because a giant clot of hair and sand clogged our shower drain. Haha. Nice image, I know. :D), our group ate dinner the cheap(er) restaurant down by the river where we had our sangria the day before. The (again, only) waiter was nice, speaking Portuguese back to us as we ordered in Spanish (what’s up with this trend of understaffing in Portugal? And yes, I can assume such things after having only eaten at two restaurants in one Portuguese city). Selina and I shared a franceschina, a popular Portuguese dish, composed of thick slices of bread with large cuts of sausage, ham, beef, and pork in between, drowned in a peculiar orange salty and tart sauce, surrounded by French fries. Yes, it was as thick and heavy as it sounds. I’m glad I shared it with Selina. We figured it was time to peace out when we were trying to warm our hands from the sausage kebab that the waiter lit on fire at the next table, because the night had gotten so cold. We had stayed, talking and ordering more food at the restaurant for three hours.

We spent some more time at Farggi http://www.farggi.com/, this popular gelato place located on the way to our hostel. God, we fat Americans! People in my group was going all out due to their unfulfilled desserts cravings back in Spain (Spaniards don’t eat sweets after meals except for special occasions. It doesn’t bother that me that much though). The sugar from the gelato must have gotten the group hyper (not me though, because I didn’t have any… but I’m up for doing weird things 24/7 anyways), because Jade, Lauren, Amy, and I practiced our British accents on the streets of Porto, figuring that we’d get less hate from people if we weren’t Americans. Then Jade and Lauren helped me work on my Southern accents, because they’re both from the South. “All yeh hafta do is drop lettehs, slur whacha sayin’, and ne’er use long uns’. ‘Cuz people jus’ won understan.” Oh man, I love this group of girls (+ Kevin).

Photo credit: Selina Wan

I suggested that we all go out to the famous clubs (think: attendance of around 3,000 people on any given weekend night) down at the warehouse district after a night siesta, since things there don’t get hopping until 3 am. Yes, around the time when Yalies turn in on the weekends. How lame are we? It would’ve been perfect, because it was Friday Ladies Night at one of the biggest clubs, i.e.: so free cover and two or three free drinks for the ladies. And being a group of 11 girls and 2 guys, what more can you ask for? I was so sure that at least the other group of girls (+ John) would be ready to party. Too bad every single person in the group was a pooper. I couldn’t manage to convince one single person. Something about being totally sunburned and worn-out got to people I guess. Man, if I were with Jo and Nat, they would’ve totally been for dancing until the sun rose/metro started running again. Instead, we turned at around 1 am. Laaaaameee.