Tag: Porto

On our way to Porto, we were convinced our luck had REALLY run out. According to the weather reports, we weren’t merely encountering rain, we were headed into a huge storm! We were all glad the forecast was wrong yet again.

Although it rained during our bus ride from Lemigo, by the time we reached Porto and had finished our city bus tour, the rain had briefly stopped. The sun even came out during our walk along the river.

Before I left home, I had loaded photos from Mike’s and my 2003 day trip to Porto onto my iPhone. I was surprised to see how much the city had changed, and how much remained the same.

The tower that Mike and I climbed for free in 2003 was restored and updated in 2014. Tickets are required to visit what is now the Clérigos architectural complex .

Because Mike and I climbed to the very top of the tower, I thought it was the perfect spot to leave some of his ashes.

When we were there in 2003, there weren’t any “love locks”. I didn’t have a lock today, but leaving his ashes was MY way of saying “I love you”.

But I digress. Back to day 1 and our lunch stop at an interesting restaurant. Check out the large wooden object dangling over our table.

I’m pretty certain “the world’s most beautiful McDonalds” wasn’t here when we visited in 2003! Quite different from what we have in the USA, wouldn’t you say?

No, none of us ATE there, although the place was PACKED!

Instead, three of us had dinner at Almada 331, a tiny restaurant close to our hotel, the Turim. The food was incredible, yes. The menu was in English, yes. The cork walls made conversation enjoyable. But what REALLY made the experience off the charts was Fernando, the owner.

Both “Shelly” and Fernando had lived in Pittsburgh, so we all became instant friends. But so did the Belgians, Ukrainians, Indians and the woman from Singapore (Singaporean?) who were also dining at the restaurant. It is that kind of place. When you enter, Fernando asks where you are from, and then points out all the different countries represented in his tiny restaurant. It was truly a magical night.

In case you’re wondering, yes, it was confusing to have a male Shelly on the trip, especially because his wife Loren was one of my very favorite fellow travelers, so we spent a lot of time together.

We had the option of exploring the city on our own during one of our three days in Porto, or paying $145 to visit Arouca, a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Bet you already know which option I chose.

First, we visited the monastery. In the USA, monasteries are where the monks live; convents are for nuns. In Portugal, however, it isn’t gender that defines the naming convention, it’s location. Monasteries are built in remote areas, outside of cities; convents are built inside the city walls. So, although initially the Arouca Monastery was inhabited by men, by the 14th century the nuns had taken it over.

But not just ANY nuns. No, these were noble ladies from families of wealth and power, for whom a suitable match had not been found. What to do with your 18 year old unmarried daughter? Why, you pack the old maid (and one or two servants) off to the nearest convent, along with a very generous donation.

She will never be allowed to leave the convent. But don’t feel too badly for her, because rather than being her husband’s servant, she gets to meditate, walk around the garden, read, and boss her servants around. Best of all, she won’t die in childbirth, unless she uses one of the legendary tunnels to meet up with a friendly monk.

You can’t see them in the above photo, but the courtyard is lined with banners describing the persecution of Christians, like this one:

Surprisingly, no mention was made of the Inquisition, probably because it happened in Spain?

Although this “lazy Susan” was normally used for food and other contributions, occasionally a baby was placed on the shelf. Our guide told us that maybe the turnstile was occasionally spun 360 degrees. That way, it would appear the baby had been brought by a townsperson, even if it had originated inside the monastery. That’s the upside of wearing those bulky robes.

One noble lady, Queen Mafalda, was briefly married to 10 year old Henry I of Castille. When the Vatican annulled the marriage, she voluntarily entered the Arouca Monastery, where she is currently on display in the chapel.

My favorite part of the day was our visit to the suspension bridge. To get there, we drove along beautiful, winding mountain roads for about 45 minutes. It was a visual feast! By the time we arrived, we were all eager to walk through the woods, over the bridge and back.

Okay, so it rained off and on, which added to the adventure. It also made us really appreciate the intermittent sunshine.

Ines, our local guide, thoughtfully supplied us with white rain ponchos to put over our jackets. The bridge was wet and slippery initially, but our spirits were as high as that bridge!

It case you’re wondering, the bridge is almost 1700 feet, or about a third of a mile each way. It opened in 2021, and only cost 2.3 million Euros to build. According to Ines, it is the highest and most beautiful suspension bridge in the world. It used to be the longest, until the Czech Republic one-upped them.

If you’re afraid of heights, it’s probably better if you don’t look down.

I’m not afraid of heights, so I did. Was it thrilling? Hell, yes!

The walk to the bridge was down a very steep slope.

As you know, what goes down, must come up, but those who had had enough fun for the day were able to ride a jeep to the top. Four of us opted to walk back—the equivalent of 15 flights of stairs —according to my Apple Watch. Not bad for four people over 70!

We had worked up quite an appetite, so we were ready for our wonderful lunch by the river, where we could watch the rafts heading toward white waters.

When I went for my bathroom break, I thought I had inadvertently walked into the men’s locker room, but no. The half naked guy in the skimpy towel was very friendly and wasn’t at all surprised to see me. I guess the area right in front of the bathrooms is the where the “rafters” suit up. Sorry, no photos.

Another thing I love about OAT is the ability to customize the trip. For our second night in Porto, I decided it was too windy and rainy for me to venture out, so I enjoyed a solo dinner in the hotel. Unlike most USA hotel restaurants, the food was great and reasonably priced.

I guess at this stage in my life, I’ve completely conquered FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). Instead, I only do things that I want to do.

Look at the size of that glass of sangria!

Because it was important for me to retrace the steps Mike and I took in 2003, I decided to skip the planned activities for our last day in Porto. Instead, I visited the previously described restored Clérigos complex, where I was reminded of the splendid life members of the clergy led, back in the “dark ages”.

I still had enough time to walk across the Douro River to visit three of the seven magnificent WOW Museums. And they were indeed a wow!

Even the museum’s floors are visually appealing. This floor is perfectly flat. Optical illusions in the pavement are a Portuguese “thing”. Lisbon and Rio de Janeiro have similar beautiful walkways.

I have visited many wineries, so the history of wine making wasn’t as interesting as the interactive exhibits. Where else can you stick your nose over a tube to try to identify a wine smell? I was only able to correctly “smokey” and “chocolate” scents. If I ever had any doubts that my palate was unsophisticated, that exercise dispelled them!

A corridor was lined with fun information about the different varietals. This is the artist’s vision for Argentina’s Malbec.

The wine museum’s admission price included a tasting of three different wines, with an explanation of what you are drinking, plus a coupon for a free port tonic in one of the museum’s many restaurants.

Of the cork and chocolate museums, can you guess which was my favorite? Which one had the best free samples?

I found the chocolate museum’s South American creation myth video so delightful, I stood there and recorded it for those of you who will never visit Porto. (You’re welcome)

The museum was across the river from our hotel, so I walked across both levels of the bridge…the top, with its panoramic view.

On the way back, I took the “low road” so I could deposit the remainder of Mike’s ashes in the Douro River, because we had also stopped there in 2003. Back then, we had the bridge all to ourselves, and cameras didn’t have “selfie” options.

Barb, Pam and I are being picked up at 9 AM for our 12:30 direct flight to Newark. Because breakfast is at 7 and the market opens at 8, I figured I’d have enough time to do a quick swing through. Despite the rain, I made the 7 minute walk to Bolhão. Although the posted hours indicated the market was open, it appears no one bothered to tell the vendors.

Not a problem. I know where I can find dry clothes, and I still have enough time to change into them!

Although there is much more to say about this wonderful city, our fantastic tour and my amazing travel companions, this post is already quite long and we are on our way to the airport.