You look at the watch. You sigh. You mentally go through everything you want, ‘have’, to see in Porto and you sigh again. A slave to time. An eternal apprentice at managing a travel schedule, or rather, on this occasion, an apprentice at having no schedule, no map, not even a list of those places in the city you cannot miss. But you don’t know how to do it, you can’t, you don’t succeed; deep down, you don’t want to. You don’t want to manage expectations; what you want is for them to come true.
Because you want to see, visit, photograph, walk, admire, touch, taste… feel each and every corner of Porto and you know you won’t achieve it. It’s impossible because it’s an improvised trip, impossible because of one child, two, three, a park, a diaper, two diapers, breastfeeding, a tantrum. Everything conspires to disrupt that travel schedule you’d like to plan and fulfill in order to satisfy that hunger of yours to create memories of the places you travel to.
You finally head out and you do it almost alone; with a baby on your back, a promise of a nap, and a camera in hand. And you dive into devouring as much of Porto as you can in that little bit of childhood sleep thanks to the complicity of someone who knows how much you need it. It’s raining, but you don’t care.
And you devour little, but more than enough to satisfy the gluttony of getting lost aimlessly. The Stock Exchange Palace, the Church of Saint Francis, the facades covered in tiles and nostalgia, the worn and dirty alley through which you climb to the cathedral… The cathedral you cannot enter because your eagerness to get out made you not even grab your wallet.
Disappointment. It heals quickly, as soon as you happen to discover the Rua das Aldas viewpoint by chance. And there, with the facade of the Igreja dos Grilos in front, the Douro snaking between rooftops and Vila Nova de Gaia appearing below the horizon, you feel that you are where you wanted to be. Not in a specific place, but in a specific state.
A simple yet intense moment of happiness, during which you feel good, during which you embrace that calm you had been seeking for months. An unconscious smile crosses your lips. A little head rubs against your back to snuggle up once more. Bells toll with a hint of fado in some distant church.
Yes, you were not wrong. This makes you happy. Traveling. Wandering the streets, discovering, getting lost to find yourself again, to reaffirm that you were not wrong. Perhaps later you will be, but not today. You are on the way.
The little head moves again and you start walking. You go up hills, down hills. You step in puddles reflecting a leaden, gray Porto. You enjoy it. You sip it slowly so it doesn’t end. You cross the Don Luis Bridge and reaffirm once more: This is it.
The famous Ribeira then appears to give even more intensity to this nap from which you don’t want to wake up. It presents itself before you wet, soaked in that Portuguese saudade that makes it even more attractive. Ribeira, a woman with personality like Alfama.
And the sun sets. And the calm continues. Your camera clicks over and over, your baby keeps sleeping, and your feeling of being where you want to be settles into your coat pocket, empty of coins but now full of peace.
You look at the watch. You sigh. The truce must end and you begin the journey back. You smile. Porto understands you.
Más artículos sobre Portugal:
Viajar a coche en Portugal: ruta de 15 días
Portugal dos Pequenitos, plan con niños en Coímbra
5 pueblos con encanto en Portugal
Lamego, 12 motivos para visitarlo
Óbidos Vila Natal, destino navideño
Alfama es nombre de mujer
Vila Viçosa, la princesa del Alentejo
Oporto te entiende
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- Rest in your ideal accommodation in Porto
- Travel without fear with your travel insurance with a 5% discount
- Enjoy excursions, tours, and transfers in Porto
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And you, in what moment or city have you felt this sensation? Tell me in the comments.
