I expected northern Portugal to be a mini-Spain, sort of like going from Washington to Oregon. Or maybe even Washington to Idaho. 

I mean, I knew the languages were different but I thought Portuguese was just a heavily-accented Spanish. Which it somewhat is, but an incomprehensible heavily-accented Spanish. Maybe Washington to rural Mississippi?

So Porto feels like a very foreign place.  I didn’t see anything familiar in the city until we left our hotel when I spied (drum roll please) — a peregrino! On the Portuguese route! Right in front of our hotel.  

Ok, now I feel at home. Hello Porto!