Oh-Porto (They've Got Me Speaking Portuguese, pt. 2)

After jet-setting from Dublin on everyone's favorite low cost airline Ryanair, I felt relieved and a little more relaxed. Maybe it was because I wouldn't have to look right then left anymore, or maybe it was because I was back to doing what I was used to: the daily struggles and adventures of a vagabond, nomadic, world traveler.



When you start to break through the clouds upon descent to Porto, you immediately see a country divided. Only it has nothing to do with politics for once, but rather a simple river. The Duoro gashes right through Portugal and more or less separates the North from the South, and therefore, in some ways, separates Porto from the more cosmopolitan south of Portugal. Fortunately, this seems to give the city a very unique character. A sort of unpolished, more crass, chip-on-the-shoulder-esque character that actually ends up being quite charming--at least to me. In addition, Porto is just an incredibly picturesque town: handpainted tiles adorn the facades of buildings, clay tile roofs dot the landscape, well dressed elders wander with purpose, old wooden boats bob lazily on the river, and lots of Port Cellars dominate the landscapes--probably the main attraction for most that visit Porto. Me, I don't really even like port...


I do like food though, and that's a TREMENDOUS reason to visit Porto...

So what did I do? What I've been learning to do this entire time: wander aimlessly. It was sweet to just wander around the cobblestone streets, chat with locals in my broken Portuguese/Spanish, and watch the world turn a day older. I've developed this routine with just about any place that I visit. The first day is always spent wandering and getting some kind of orientation, while the afternoon is reserved for running any necessary errands (they do pop up every now and then). It's just more relaxing than forcing yourself to do something that you aren't sure you want to do. You buy more time, and figure out what your options are for the rest of the time in the area. The town itself was pretty easy to get around in though, and pretty small, which made it easy to snag a tour of a port cellar--Taylor's to be precise. I got to sample some port, take a photo op with a peacock and learn why all the port cellars have English sounding names despite their location. The day was polished off with some of the best food--the major reason why I added Porto to my itinerary--I've had since my trip commenced--wine, bacalhau, fresh olives, veal, calamari and much much more. I decided to splurge on a cruise of the Duoro on the next day, figuring I might not ever come back to Porto again, and that I'd be crazy if I didn't take in what arguably might be the most beautiful attraction in Portugal.



The cruise was spectacular, allowing you to see all of the quintas, or port vineyards, that are strewn along the river. Spring seemed to be the best time to come, as all of the orange and cherry trees that dot the landscape were in full bloom. As I expected when I singed up for it, it was full of retiros too, or retirees for you English speakers. Most of them were Spanish though, which helped me prep my linguistic skills before going back to Spain, and as I've come to find out, I enjoy speaking with my elders a little bit more than people my age. So in short, it worked out pretty well. We got back to the city around dusk, which allowed me to wander around and snap some photos of the oh-so-close-to-full moon and the monastery that sits atop the town on the south side of the Duoro.

After a couple of days, I was content with where I was and pretty set on returning some day. And to think, I put this place on my itinerary only after watching a really old episode of Anthony Bourdain: Cook's Tour from the nineties (It's a food/culture show, sort of). Oh, where would we be without television?

Off to Sevilla and the ultra-serious processions of Semana Santa and Easter Sunday.