On Thursday when I arrived in O Porto on the bus, I couldn’t exactly figure out where to go next. There was no obvious exit. I followed the largest group of people leaving the station. I didn’t see any buildings close by. I was disoriented. There was an urban bus waiting so I asked the driver how to find a taxi to take me to the hotel. While I was in the taxi going into the center, I was wondering where is the entrance.
Friday morning, I did not allow enough time to get to the bus station. I took the metro. A man explained where I had to change trains to get to the bus station. I arrive after the bus has left. No problem. There is another bus 4 hours later. I thought that should give me enough time to find the entrance. I start wandering around. The station has three levels. I took videos of my whole convoluted efforts but the video focuses on the direct route to the buses. After all I only have a minute. I never found an entrance.
The top level is a walkway. The middle level has the restrooms, a gift store, a cafeteria and a small stuffy waiting room but no entrance. On that level I asked a young woman where the entrance was. She looked mystified. I changed the question and asked her how I would find from which dock a bus would leave. She said go all the way downstairs to where the buses are and look at the monitors.
In watching this video, I now see that if I had known to look for the M in a circle, I could have gone directly to the buses from the metro. None-the-less I still would have missed the bus. Also I would still have been looking for an official entrance.
During my four free hours, I walked around the modest neighbourhood near the train station. The two stations are close to one another but not visible to each other. I stopped in a cooperative art gallery. The sitter for that day was an architect who made wooden furniture. He told he how he chooses the woods. The furniture was beautiful and practical. Then I ate a dal at an Indian restaurant.
I just wandered around some more. I did not want to find a spot to sit on the bus level which is dark and filled with exhaust fumes.
The last hurdle was actually getting on the correct bus because there were several going Galicia. I felt relieved to arrive back in Santiago after the bus stopped for about 20 minutes on the middle of nowhere waiting for another bus to exchange passengers.
Friday morning, I did not allow enough time to get to the bus station. I took the metro. A man explained where I had to change trains to get to the bus station. I arrive after the bus has left. No problem. There is another bus 4 hours later. I thought that should give me enough time to find the entrance. I start wandering around. The station has three levels. I took videos of my whole convoluted efforts but the video focuses on the direct route to the buses. After all I only have a minute. I never found an entrance.
The top level is a walkway. The middle level has the restrooms, a gift store, a cafeteria and a small stuffy waiting room but no entrance. On that level I asked a young woman where the entrance was. She looked mystified. I changed the question and asked her how I would find from which dock a bus would leave. She said go all the way downstairs to where the buses are and look at the monitors.
In watching this video, I now see that if I had known to look for the M in a circle, I could have gone directly to the buses from the metro. None-the-less I still would have missed the bus. Also I would still have been looking for an official entrance.
During my four free hours, I walked around the modest neighbourhood near the train station. The two stations are close to one another but not visible to each other. I stopped in a cooperative art gallery. The sitter for that day was an architect who made wooden furniture. He told he how he chooses the woods. The furniture was beautiful and practical. Then I ate a dal at an Indian restaurant.
I just wandered around some more. I did not want to find a spot to sit on the bus level which is dark and filled with exhaust fumes.
The last hurdle was actually getting on the correct bus because there were several going Galicia. I felt relieved to arrive back in Santiago after the bus stopped for about 20 minutes on the middle of nowhere waiting for another bus to exchange passengers.
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