Porto, Portugal

Alright, this is nasty. Yes I am going to talk about toilets again just like I did in Japan and China. I went to the little pilgrims' room (toilet) in Spain and in Portugal. Yes even I go to the bathroom, I try not to but try as I may sometimes it gets the better of me.  So I went to the bathroom in the bus station in Spain and the train station in Porto, Portugal and I noticed they don't put toilet seats on the throne. Dude, they have toilets but no seats. What in the world? Deb confirmed the women's toilets were seatless too. Hmmm. I thought maybe the Iberian Peninsula folks had arrived at the age old problem of why men don't put the toilet seat down. So I cranked up my powerful mind and deduced the toilet seat problem would not bother other men so my logic was severely flawed thinking it solved the toilet seat being left up by men.  So I am at  a loss. I started to give you pictures of topless crappers but that would be gauche which hasn't stopped me in the past. Hmmm.

So we went and had lunch at the "best restaurant in Porto". Dern lunch cost $60 for two people.  Holy guacamole batman. Dude, we had relatively normal dishes and it was $60. This restaurant was visible from all of Porto by a huge sign on the roof that said "Taylors" but Deb and I had a huge problem navigating on foot to this place. The roads would end in a building and we would have to backtrack, or the road would loop around and climb up Mt. Everest then go back down then climb up again. Geez Louise. We finally found it and Taylor's found our wallet. Whatever. Taylor's makes port wine but as Yall know this Big Ole Dumb Southern Boy doesn't drink. Of course that doesn't stop the Queen of My Doublewide who has a hollow leg.

We went into this church here that had wooden boards all over the floor. Now you must be saying what  is so special about that? These boards are the same size as a coffin lid for a good reason. Up until the 18th century the people buried their dead under these wooden doors then they took out the bones later and put them in crypts in another part of the church. I have a photo of a glass cover of a huge, mass style crypt that they threw in the bones if the family couldn't afford a private crypt.  Deb sort of summed it up in that the stench inside that church of rotting humans must have been mighty powerful.  After I heard that they put their dead under those doors I didn't much care about the missing toilet seats.  The rotting dead thing really and truthfully trumped the missing toilet seat thing as being nasty. Mega, mega nasty. Vomitorium nasty. Nasty, nasty, nasty. It seems they didn't bury their dead outside the church at all until the 17th or 18th century when somebody passed a law saying it was nasty and they couldn't do that anymore. Now I know that rockets hadn't been invented yet so rocket scientists wouldn't be a part of that algorithm, but don't you think somebody would have noticed grandma didn't smell very good a month after they put her "downstairs"? Nasty, nasty, nasty.

Dang I should have mentioned this before about restaurants in Portugal. It seems they have a habit of putting out food on your table when you arrive and charging you for it if you eat it. You know like bread and butter or whatever. It seems they also charge for tap water they give you. Last night they charged us for the guy playing the piano in the restaurant. Man these people are thieves. We haven't been charged for the air we breathe or the chair we sat in--yet.

Tomorrow we are taking the train for a day trip to someplace Deb and Sandra said they need to drag Waguih and me.  Whatever.  See Yall later.