Porto, Honestly? It's a Whole Thing.
okay, so porto. i didn't plan on porto, it just…happened. i was supposed to be in lisbon, chasing some seriously good pastel de natas (still haven't found a replacement, honestly), but a cancelled train and a ridiculously cheap flight later, here i am. and it's…sticky. not like, gross sticky, but humid sticky. i just checked and it's twenty-six point seven five degrees, feels like almost twenty-eight, and the air is thick enough to chew. pressure's a bit wonky, apparently, at one thousand and nine, but honestly, i'm more concerned about finding a decent espresso.
i'm a freelance photographer, which basically means i wander around looking for interesting light and hoping people don't yell at me for pointing a *camera in their face. porto is full of interesting light. all those tiled buildings reflecting the sun, the Douro River shimmering…it’s a photographer’s dream, if you can handle the hills. seriously, my calves are screaming. i’ve been relying heavily on the number twenty-two thirty-six five sixty-six bus line, which is a lifesaver, but also a bit terrifying. the drivers here have a…unique approach to traffic laws.
i’ve been staying in a tiny little Airbnb in the Ribeira district. it’s…cozy. which is a polite way of saying it’s the size of a shoebox. but the location is amazing. right on the river, surrounded by these ancient, crumbling buildings. my neighbors are mostly older folks who seem to spend their days sitting on their balconies, watching the world go by and judging my questionable fashion choices. if you get bored, Vila Nova de Gaia is just across the river, and it's a quick walk.
someone told me that the francesinha is a must-try, but also that it will actively try to kill you. apparently, it’s a sandwich layered with like, six different kinds of meat, covered in cheese and a tomato-beer sauce. i’m…intrigued, but also slightly scared. i did try a bifana, though. that was good. simple, but good. you can find a decent one at Conga, according to Yelp.
i overheard two tourists arguing about whether port wine is actually wine. one of them was very passionate about it not being wine. it was…a whole scene.
i spent yesterday wandering around Livraria Lello, the bookstore that inspired J.K. Rowling. it’s beautiful, but also incredibly crowded. you need to buy a voucher beforehand, which feels a bit weird, but it’s worth it if you’re a book nerd. TripAdvisor has all the details.
i also stumbled upon this amazing little tile shop, Ceramicas Sao Miguel. they make these hand-painted tiles, azulejos*, and they’re absolutely stunning. i may or may not have maxed out my credit card. i heard from a local that the best place to find vintage clothes is around Rua Miguel Bombarda, but i haven't had a chance to check it out yet. Local Porto Blog has a good guide.
apparently, the best way to avoid pickpockets is to look incredibly confused. i’ve been practicing.
the humidity is getting to me, though. my hair is a frizzy mess, and i feel like i’m constantly sweating. the ground level pressure is nine hundred and twelve, which doesn't explain the stickiness. i need another coffee. and maybe that francesinha. i'm also thinking of checking out the Serralves Museum, if i can summon the energy to walk uphill again. Serralves Website.
honestly, porto is a bit chaotic, a bit overwhelming, and a bit sticky. but it’s also beautiful, charming, and full of surprises. i think i’m starting to like it.
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