Visiting Bucharest in February is an adventure that may not be within reach of those who don't like cold weather. But for us, who started our trips together with a snow-covered Paris and with negative temperatures in January, it's business as usual.   We are older and perhaps more vulnerable to the cold. The courage may no longer be the same and the billing at the end of the day may be higher, but it won't be enough to discourage us if the right trip at the right price comes up... at (...)

  There is no other city in the world where we can feel closer to a character of The Truman Show than Berlin. The German capital exhales historic moments of the twentieth century and, at each corner, we are invaded by footprints of World War II or the division of Germany. More overwhelming than that is to feel small whenever we stop to think and realize that the person in front of us certainly has a very personal story to tell. Depending on the age, one may even have lived in the Berlin (...)

The path to the Olympic Stadium in Stockholm began the day before... in Helsinki. TAP had messed up our flight times and anticipated our return flight from Sweden for a time we wouldn't even be at the airport after returning from Finland by cruise.   After an exchange of messages on Twitter, the solution was a stopover in Frankfurt that, among other things, would allow us to spend a few more hours in Stockholm the next day. Visiting the stadium that hosted the 1912 Games was not among (...)

  The trips you do can create memories for a variety of reasons. They may be nothing more than loose details, without little to no impact on your final feeling, but they will still become a story to tell whenever you remember a destination. The day we spent in Lyon will forever be remembered as the one in which we decided that we will never give the name Dinis to a son. Yes, it's a king's name, O Lavrador («The Farmer»), but also the name of the child who sowed panic for two hours in (...)

  "One day I'm going to see a Wales' game at the Millennium Stadium."   When I wrote this post on Facebook on October 1, 2012, I was far from knowing what the future had in store for me. Yes, I already knew Rui but we had never traveled together. Our first travel, to Paris, in January 2013 was not yet part of the plans and none of us knew that we would become obsessed not only with travel (...)

There is one thing we (all) don't talk enough about. Traveling is contagious. There's a traveling bug that settles inside us when we start doing it, and when we stop to think, we realize that there is no way to get rid of it... even if we wanted to.   Our trip to Vigo started when we were returning to Lisbon after the road trip on the Estrada Nacional 2 between Montargil and Chaves. When (...)

  In August we spent four days driving through Estrada Nacional 2 (Portugal's "Route 66") between Montargil and Chaves to go see a soccer match. Along the way, we stopped several times and gathered tips on some of the best things that can be done along this stretch.   1. Geodesic Center of Portugal (Vila de Rei) It may be a useless pleasure but there's something magical about stopping (...)

  August, four days and one goal in mind: to be in Chaves on Saturday at 16.30 to attend the match between the local team and Portimonense.   This was what we knew the day before the road trip started. The original idea was quite simple: to drive to Braga and stroll through Minho, stopping in Guimarães, before heading to Chaves. I had nothing against it, of course. But what if we took the chance to see something else and do something different?   I have no idea how I came across an (...)

  It's stronger than me. Even before buying a trip - or even before deciding what trip I'm going to do - I like to check which sports events fate has for me. I don't always watch them, but I always like to have all the information when I get somewhere new. This will not strike you as a surprise, but Malta is no big destination for sports tourism. Still, for someone born in the mid-80s, there is a certain romanticism of a football in which the Maltese teams often met the Portuguese clubs. (...)

  As I told you before, our three days in Malta were shortened to two due to one hell of a storm (with a thunderstorm that, if I was afraid of them, would have made me hide under the bed). And from those two days, an afternoon was spent watching the brilliant Pembroke-Floriana (for those who aren't aware, we are talking about the Maltese Premier League), that classic of European football.   (Malta. A destiny for any occasion (...)