The night we arrived in Barcelos was the Champions League final between Barcelona (Spain) and Ars*nal (England). Going in, I wasn't sure who the locals would cheer for. As a rule, the Portuguese don't like the Spanish--at all--but Barcelona has a few Portuguese stars on the team. As it happens, I would say the people in the bar were 70/30 for Barcelona, who ended up winning the game 2-1, scoring two goals in the last ten minutes. I hate Ars*nal with a passion, so I was quite happy about the whole affair.

I was somewhat less happy with my dinner. I got something called rojões which the guidebooks described as "a widely popular and variable dish" that serves pork and other regional meats on a bed of rice. Well, I recognized the chunks of pork but there was a white, entrail-like meat that smelled like a witch's toes and some spongy red stuff I'm guessing was kidney. I ate all the rice, though. Amy had her favorite meal, frango assado, or roasted chicken.