Blog Three – Coimbra

Published by Alastair Reid on September 19, 2018September 19, 2018

Coimbra [16-19th September]

The train trip from Porto to Coimbra started with all the bad bits that you try to avoid by being organised – on the platform in plenty of time, tickets bought and seats booked in advance, but then we got onto the wrong carriage. This meant moving up four carriages, which meant eight sets of doors which closed on you like vices as you tried to manoeuvre through them. Add in inevitably getting in peoples’ way, so getting shouted at – at one point there was a lovely flash back to Belgrade 1980, during which we were doing a similar assault course through First Class, when Fiona accidentally knocked over a bucket in the corridor. On that occasion, a perfectly groomed woman appeared from her compartment and haughtily asked “Why did you do that?” Fiona delivered such a beautifully constructed volley of abuse that the woman hastily retreated and locked her door. No such event on this occasion, but quite close.

Coimbra is an ancient city, which centres on its wonderful University – our flat was at the foot of a precipitous flight of steps, which lead up to the University’s main buildings. We made a comprehensive tour, the high points of which were the Academic Prison (Edinburgh must institute one immediately) and the ancient and impossibly ornate University Library (no photography allowed – aye, right).

It is probably the most impressive campus I’ve ever been on – yup, even better than Abertay – though we decided against climbing the 184 spiral steps of the University Tower, to add to all the other steps and hills that have had to be traversed whilst visiting Coimbra.

That evening we decided to head down the steep hills from the University into the old town for a meal, and ended up having one of those great, entirely unplanned evenings. After a really good meal in a small restaurant perched on the side of a precipitous cobbled street, we decided to climb a short way back uphill to a small bar that advertised Fado (Fate) – Portugal’s unique voice and guitar music.

We sat outside on the terrace, where we met the lovely Lucie and Becky, and bonded over our mutual love of bars which serve enormous glasses of wine. They had had a near-death experience on the motorway earlier in the day, and were understandably in need of a stopover with soothing alcohol, en route to the Douro Valley. As we were at the point of giving up on the Fado performance, we were invited indoors, and the doors were promptly shut.

The audience of around 15 people comprised a number of friendly middle aged local ladies, the four of us, and a couple more random folk. The band consisted of a very pretty, friendly and entertaining young female singer, a handsome young chap on guitarra (Portuguese guitar) and an older man providing rhythm on Spanish guitar. The atmosphere was intimate and relaxed, and a couple of older local men, with great voices and unassuming personalities, got up from time to time to sing.

Neither Fiona nor I can speak Portuguese. I can’t sing a note (unless you count “Sunshine on Leith“ after particularly significant Hibs victories). However, singing in Portuguese, at the behest of the lead singer, somehow appeared not to be a problem! Lucie and Becky empathised with the Fado singer, when she introduced a song about how shit men are and how they are not to be trusted, and all the local women concurred. I felt the need to keep my head down and not argue against overwhelming odds! Two hours flew in and a good time was had by all.

On our final day, we visited the a very impressive Museum Nacional Machado de Castro, which is built on top of the restored ancient and vast Roman cryptoporticus (vaults), which originally supported the perfectly level Forum, on the side of a very steep hill. The café offers a great view across old Coimbra to the Rio Mondego, and the buffet lunch was superb, including (compulsory) beer and wine: those old Romans would have approved.

The only demerits of Coimbra appear to be the need for mountaineering skills to go anywhere, and the lack of any discernible shops, at least anywhere close to where we were staying. There didn’t seem to be all that many bars either, but there must be, as our stay coincided with the University’s equivalent of Freshers’ Week, and loud celebrations went on till around 5am. When we went for breakfast in the local café at 8am, I swear we were the only sober folk there – it was packed with wrecked students, most of whom looked like death warmed up.

This effect was added to by the fact that undergraduates are required to wear black suits and long black capes, despite it being 35 degrees. New students are led about in Faculty groups, wearing “team” gear, and much chanting, acting and singing is the order of the day, and the night. Whilst queuing for tickets to the University buildings, we were serenaded by a choir of black cloaked students singing, amongst other things, “Loch Lomond”.

All in all, Coimbra is a place of proud traditions, where the cream of Portuguese students come to study, and again it’s somewhere to which we’d definitely like to return, to see more than our two full days allowed on this visit.

My dozen favourite images from our stay in Coimbra are included in the gallery below. Click on a thumbnail to see a bigger image.

Image Gallery