Braga, Portugal (Part 2)

  

Angela, Francisco and Walter had given me the opportunity to try authentic Portuguese meals at an incredibly low price. The Tasquinha was more than just great food, though. They also served fresh fruit sangrias, which kept coming to our table once we were joined by a few other friends. Sofia was the most energetic person I had seen in a while. Her presence just brought us back to life since we’d eaten so much that we died and sat in Food Heaven with the angels for a few minutes. She was very happy, and that was contagious. We were all ecstatic after a few minutes and more than a few glasses of sangria. The party was just about to get started. Hernán and his girlfriend Guadalupe brought the Argentine count to three, and since I was the only Brazilian in the group, it was only fair to admit than Maradona was better than Pelé (that night anyway). Hernán still owes me a visit in Vice City, where I own a Corvette, a yacht and a mansion. At least that’s what we pretended the Miami lifestyle was like. The seven of us played ‘porrinha’ (typical Brazilian bar game which you have to play at least once before you die) and had more sangria some shots of Jeropiga, traditional Portuguese liquor that resembles a much stronger and sweeter wine. That night, we closed Tasquinha Bracarense. Where to?

My friends know I’m a big fan of live music. Sitting at a bar having a beer with friends is fun, but a good singer and a guitar complete the equation. It doesn’t get any better than that. Or does it? It did. We grabbed a guitar back at their place and headed over to Bar Usual, which was fairly empty for how late it was. We took a table all the way in the back, ordered some beers, and next thing you know, we were the live music! I am humble enough to admit that I’m a horrible singer. Great listener, but horrible singer. That night, it didn’t matter. We were all having fun. Sofia and Hernán, oh, those two are great, however. Her voice is so beautiful that those angels came down to have a beer with us. The place slowly filled up. We all sang in English, Spanish, Portuguese and German. Maybe broken French. At that moment, happiness was our lingua franca, and all of us were pretty fluent in it.

The next evening, after school, Angela and I took a stroll out to the City Center, along with some other linguists (and psychologists).  We walked around for a good hour or so, trying to find a non-existent bar by the name of ‘Tapas Bar’, where everyone was meeting up. Believe it or not, finding a place that does not exist is not the easiest of tasks. At least we saw the Sé de Braga (Braga Cathedral) on the road to nowhere. We then, almost by chance, found our meeting point, only to find out it was actually called Estúdio 22. Oh, and yes, they do serve tapas! If the food didn’t take a whole glacial period to arrive at our table, I might even recommend this joint. The drinks are a little pricey, but the tapas are indeed tasty. Unfortunately, they’re not worth waiting over an hour for them.

Thursday was my last night in Braga, and I knew it had to be amazing. After school, we attempted to grab dinner at the Tasquinha again, but it wasn’t open for dinner yet. The angels might have been sleeping, still recovering from the party at Bar Usual. We were then in a group of four; with me were Angela, her compatriot Jonas, and João, a young professor at University of Lisbon who had come up to give a talk at the summer school. We met up with Walter and the other girls and crossed the city center looking for good but cheap eats. There was a good joint right outside the city center, so we ate there and had some great wine. Nothing like the Tasquinha, though. After that, a quick stop at Café A Brasileira (Largo do Barão São Martinho 17  4700 Braga, Portugal) for more fun and drinks. This was already a very traditional restaurant in Lisbon before the Braga location opened over a century ago. Ironically, it’s not a Brazilian restaurant, and even more ironically, I didn’t care.

Our last stop was Insólito Bar (Avenida Central 47, 4710 Braga, Portugal). This place was narrow, but long. Right past the entrance, there was a bar (the only one open that night). You’ll find a small dance floor as you continue your journey towards the back. After the dance floor, you’ll find yourself in a very long backyard, with some tables and benches. The bathrooms are located all the way in the back, and there’s a very convenient couch located right outside. I heard from the bartender that the Insólito was a bar that helped promote local bands, so they usually have concerts on Saturdays. We enjoyed the cheap beer and made good use of the dance floor until the break of dawn. Awesome night! The only sad part? I had to be at the airport in three hours, and from where I was, and considering how intoxicated I may or may not have been, it wasn’t that simple.

I took a cab back to the hostel to grab my backpack and headed over to the Braga train station, to catch the Urbanos towards Porto. My flight to Zurich departed from Sá Carneiro airport at 10am, so unfortunately, I didn’t have time for a “galão”. I hopped on the train and off I went. The next post will show a bit of my short visit to Zurich, Switzerland.