Today is our 20th wedding anniversary. Seriously, that is too bizarre to even attempt to comprehend...not just the passage of twenty years, but the fact we're GETTING OLD and that is somehow OK...and that our world has changed a lifetime in twenty years, but then so much has not. I am not given to sentimentality, so I shall cease my comments here, except to say that the path we've trodden in the last twenty years has not been at all the expected path, which is both a fantastic and scary thing. I look at the veritable children we were in our wedding photos and somehow want to warn them of the terrors and awesomeness and unpredictability ahead, because truly, no one can begin to imagine what really lies ahead on a wedding day when you're barely out of your teens.

F**k I sound old.

Anyway.

Fun fact: The twentieth wedding anniversary is the China anniversary. The pun-lover in me is a bit disappointed that I didn't know this beforehand, and therefore have failed to plan a China road trip rather than a Portugal one. But we DID eat off Portuguese azulejos (hand painted tile) china for breakfast, so perhaps that counts for something. But I prefer the term "vigintennial," the mathematical term for something happening every twenty occurrences, because it sounds slightly dirty.

We left our beachside guesthouse in Nazare yesterday morning, and boarded a public bus (because only the Joneses celebrate twenty years of marital bliss by riding the bus). We were headed ninety minutes northeast to the famous clifftop university town of Coimbra. We found a cozy little guesthouse in the old town that can best be described as typically Portuguese....and pink. I am not joking, this room was recently remodeled to resemble a ten-year-old girl's fantasy bedroom (note: I loved it). The bed and curtains were hot pink flowers, the bedside lamps were hot pink, and even the shower curtain, tiles, and rug were hot pink. I was sad I'd left my Barbies behind in 1981.

Coimbra is famous for its university, founded over a millenium ago, and one of Europe's oldest. We had been told of a medieval atmosphere, with students in Hogwarts-style black capes and hushed classes...but were mightily disappointed to discover a ghost town, populated sparsely by denim-clad students smoking and hanging out. Apparently the term ended February 29, and March 1 was the one day off before exams begin March 2. Poop on us for bad timing. But it wasn't all a loss; it was gorgeously sunny, with clear blue skies, and the view from the hilltop university over the city was lovely. So we claimed an outdoor table at a tiny tasca in the medieval Old City and shared a tapas and a carafe of Portuguese wine (note: the entire bill came to a total of four euros. Seriously, how the HELL am I going to go back to London and pay six pounds for a shitty glass of cheap wine??).

For our anniversary dinner, we found a tiny restaurant near our hotel that served roasted meats (meat on a skewer is a specialty in Coimbra). I ordered migas (a Portuguese side dish made of balck-eyed peas, kale, and bread crumbs) and the best roasted chicken I've had in ages, and Matt indulged in a grossly huge plate of "carne mixta"- sausages, pork, chicken, and bacon. Despite his possible impending meat-induced heart attack, we had planned to end the evening with huge celebratory ice creams on the riverside. However, being that it's term end, the entire town rolled up its carpets and shut the lights at 10pm, leaving us sadly ice cream-less, and more importantly, wine-in-a-fun-bar-less. So while our anniversary had a bit of a sad end, Matt has promised ice cream and sunshine for tomorrow.