The advantage of off-season travel
is always with peril. Yet the promise of a new land excites you enough to take
the plunge and board the flight. Until, of course, you are greeted with a cold
rainy day when you reconsider the sanity of your plans.
is always with peril. Yet the promise of a new land excites you enough to take
the plunge and board the flight. Until, of course, you are greeted with a cold
rainy day when you reconsider the sanity of your plans.
My adventure in Porto, Portugal began
on such rough terms. Armed with cheap air travel and a promise of warmer than
Germany weather I was more than anticipating my travel to such a significant
port. For reasons I can’t quite articulate Portugal was on my list with a
much higher priority than other European countries. It was then fairly
disappointing start as I headed from the airport to the city in a blanket of
rain. With pluck and courage I headed out with a water proof jacket but the
hood prevented me from looking up at all the marvelous buildings around me. I
finally retired for the night. Cold, soaked and a solid day lost.
on such rough terms. Armed with cheap air travel and a promise of warmer than
Germany weather I was more than anticipating my travel to such a significant
port. For reasons I can’t quite articulate Portugal was on my list with a
much higher priority than other European countries. It was then fairly
disappointing start as I headed from the airport to the city in a blanket of
rain. With pluck and courage I headed out with a water proof jacket but the
hood prevented me from looking up at all the marvelous buildings around me. I
finally retired for the night. Cold, soaked and a solid day lost.
 |
| A pot of Porto awaited at the ends |
The next morning looked grim as well. Yet,
armed with a map I headed out with a local guide. The tour was an attempt to
unlock Porto’s secrets that are awfully obvious to spot if you know where to look.
The clouds were parting and the sun was finally making a comeback. And on a frightfully
common Porto street I looked up to see Porto’s buildings lit up by the sun and
surrounded by a wide arced double rainbow.
armed with a map I headed out with a local guide. The tour was an attempt to
unlock Porto’s secrets that are awfully obvious to spot if you know where to look.
The clouds were parting and the sun was finally making a comeback. And on a frightfully
common Porto street I looked up to see Porto’s buildings lit up by the sun and
surrounded by a wide arced double rainbow.
 |
| A map helps you get lost willingly |
The sun light highlighted all that I missed
on the first day. Buildings that I had simply walked past now stood out
treasuring years of history. The architecture seemed to be influenced by the French
and the iron balconies alone sported several architectural styles. Two churches
were joined by the smallest apartment in Porto to beat a loophole in Porto
civil law hundreds of years ago. There was a magical library with a staircase
that was designed by architect who had perhaps much too much to smoke. There was
an old prison in the middle of the city very artfully converted into a photography
museum. There were massive avenues celebrating the allied victory after the
war. There were the narrowest of streets between hanging clothes. The city was
never flat. I either climbed up to a monument or took some steep steps down to
river.
 |
| I ran alongside until i hit an ocean |
The river was clearly the lifeline of
the city. Wide and peaceful it led the way to a very rough Atlantic ocean. The Portuguese
in their famous sea faring ways would make their way out on the ocean into
lands far beyond. This adventure spirit and the need to be open to new
experiences have now become engrained in the DNA of the Portuguese people. There were
remains of colonial shops where the traders would bring back the goods from
their African and Indian colonies. This was evident in their food which was surprisingly
very different from staple Spanish food. Fish was great here and I obliged
willingly.
the city. Wide and peaceful it led the way to a very rough Atlantic ocean. The Portuguese
in their famous sea faring ways would make their way out on the ocean into
lands far beyond. This adventure spirit and the need to be open to new
experiences have now become engrained in the DNA of the Portuguese people. There were
remains of colonial shops where the traders would bring back the goods from
their African and Indian colonies. This was evident in their food which was surprisingly
very different from staple Spanish food. Fish was great here and I obliged
willingly.
 |
| Sweet storage |
The river was also instrumental in
bringing the fresh extracted port wine to wine caves in Porto for long term
storage. The next day I head into these caves and tasted sweet nectar like Port
wine in one of the oldest cellar established by British businessmen. On a day that included endless walking through Porto’s
magical streets, sitting down in a gorgeous wine tasting room surrounded by strutting
peacocks in the garden made a certain amount of good sense.
bringing the fresh extracted port wine to wine caves in Porto for long term
storage. The next day I head into these caves and tasted sweet nectar like Port
wine in one of the oldest cellar established by British businessmen. On a day that included endless walking through Porto’s
magical streets, sitting down in a gorgeous wine tasting room surrounded by strutting
peacocks in the garden made a certain amount of good sense.
I had been completely enamored by the
city. Perhaps it was the fact that there were no tourists around, or to see the
average Portuguese walk past historically beautifully streets without noticing
the drama of it all. It was in way a stark reminder of why I liked traveling so
much in the first place. What is so stunning for a visitor could be irrelevant
for the local! I liked the reality of the city where graffiti mixed with
intrinsic iron railings. It’s not that that it wasn’t clean, it was just that they didn’t
clean it up nice just because some tourists might show up.
city. Perhaps it was the fact that there were no tourists around, or to see the
average Portuguese walk past historically beautifully streets without noticing
the drama of it all. It was in way a stark reminder of why I liked traveling so
much in the first place. What is so stunning for a visitor could be irrelevant
for the local! I liked the reality of the city where graffiti mixed with
intrinsic iron railings. It’s not that that it wasn’t clean, it was just that they didn’t
clean it up nice just because some tourists might show up.
 |
| Reflective |
On the day of the departure I repented
losing a day to the rain. I wanted to stay back, explore more and drink more
port. But like a double rainbow, one must treasure the sight because of its temporariness.
And with a city like Porto, I was more than satisfied with the sweet after
taste of its port wine as I headed back to Germany.
losing a day to the rain. I wanted to stay back, explore more and drink more
port. But like a double rainbow, one must treasure the sight because of its temporariness.
And with a city like Porto, I was more than satisfied with the sweet after
taste of its port wine as I headed back to Germany.
Dear Dushyant,
I liked everything in Porto venture, but I liked your this summing up comment.
"One must treasure the sight because of its temporariness."
Love,
Baba