The truly peerless Pasteis de Belem. Warm custard tarts in a flaky, filo-type pastry, with cinnamon and powdered sugar to dust on top. We each had three, and then we took home a dozen, of which I had, like, another five. It's no secret why my pants aren't getting any looser.
C and me in this very cool toy at the playground (A commented: "Looks like they had the architect design this, instead of the parent."). It spins around pretty fluidly, and you feel like you're going to fall out, but you don't quite. When Ian tried to get out, though, he somehow got into a position where he was crouched, and running toward the edge, which of course was going to be endlessly just out of reach. I eventually came to his rescue and stopped the thing. Although it looks like you'll fall out onto asphalt, it's actually rubber mats.
Porto at night (or, actually, Vila Nova da Gaia, which is just across the Douro from Porto), from the balcony where we were enjoying one of many stops for ice creams and coffees.
Sand Angels.
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