This was 2007, the way it happened to me... my fascinating year of travel and friends and good food.
It was a restless month. It all began in the mountains, we went to Baisoara for New Year's Eve. I had already had my exams and was waiting for an answer about my visa from the Portuguese Embassy. I think I spent most of my time before departure watching Sex and the City series for the second time. Packing the bags was very sad, I had panic attacks all the way. I waited for my minibus to Budapest in the rain, it was very sad. I expected it would hurt more to tear myself apart from the things I left behind. The flights went smoothly, the Swiss Air chocolate was very good. I arrived in a cloudy Porto, but from the plane I could see sun rays passing through holes in the sky and practically touching the water. It was so beautiful, I felt the urge to cry for the first time that day. At least my first tears in Porto were tears of joy. I managed to take the subway, the bus and I got help to find the residence. I got my room and went straight to the computers, to let people know I arrived well. Everybody was incredibly welcoming, the Spanish scared me a little, when they kissed me instead of just shaking hands. I spent my first week getting to know how to get around and taking Ibuprofen, I was extremely sick after the long trip. But I had found my place to be for the next months. I can't describe the beach, the smell in the mornings, the waves and the sun and the buildings in Foz and I don't know if a foto can either. It's all too beautiful because it used to be all mine.