Our curtains must have done an excellent job of blocking out all light, because it wasn’t until a nearby church bell went off that we realized it was already 830 am. We enjoyed a free breakfast of pastries and Portuguese tarts thanks to Nicole’s Hilton Honors Diamond status. Then we roamed the streets of Porto.
We made a brief pit stop at the train station around the corner before exploring some other parts of the surrounding neighborhoods. Porto is a hilly town, and it does seem to be causing others some difficulties. Bricole, however, were unfazed by the hills. We eventually made our way toward the Livraria Lello, an ornately decorated library that evidently inspired J.K. Rowling for her Harry Potter novels.
The pictures we could see online made it look interesting, but the fact that hundreds of people must line up and pay 5 euro to enter just to have a look around wasn’t very appealing. At the end of the day, it’s just a book store that doesn’t seem to be selling many books, and is overrun by Harry Potter heads. Crowds are something that Bricole do not do well, so we moved on.
It was already almost lunch time, and that meant it was time for us to try the mythical francesinha sandwich. We first tried a place a couple blocks from our hotel, but it was a cramped place that only had about four tables and they were already “full.” We ended up walking up a hill a little bit to find a cafe-type place that also specialized in them.
It is a sandwich that contains ham, smoked sausage, red sausage, beefsteak, and is draped with a tablecloth of cheese (and sometimes a fried egg) before being drizzled on with some sort of mystery sauce which is usually infused with some kind of alcohol like beer or wine. Nicole described it as a “croque on crack.” It was an alright sandwich to try, but I wouldn’t order it again. It was all a bit much.
We made our way back down to the Douro River, but we made a stop at the hotel first. We had to wait out the aftermath of that francesinha sandwich before tackling the steep hills down to the river’s edge. We also bought some t-shirts with diagrams of the sandwich and its ingredients labeled in both English and Portuguese just in case we need a refresher. The sandwich is often billed as a hangover cure, but our next stop was a wine bar, so we were sort of doing things backward.
I did extensive research on where to try some local wines and most fall into two categories — massive establishments that cater to tour groups or tiny dark rooms with little character. I ultimately chose the Quay Bar, a place that didn’t technically do “tastings,” but they were knowledgeable and helpful in letting us sample a few in regular sized glasses. The location was slightly elevated up against the ledge overlooking the Douro. The tables and chairs were makeshift. Based on either the good online reviews or word of mouth, the place filled up immediately. We happened to be there right when it opened and got seats at the end.
We tried a couple different varieties of both red and white local wines, though none of the actual Port wine. It just seems like something neither of us would actually like. During the wine tasting for our own wedding, we were both sent into convulsions and made faces when we tried the dessert wines, so I think a sweet wine like Port may have a similar effect and get us thrown out of town for such sacrilege.
In any event, we had a very nice couple of hours enjoying the view and atmosphere down by the river. One nice thing about the cafe/restaurant/bar culture in Europe is that nobody is ever rushing you to hurry off. In the U.S. the check is put on your table halfway through your burger and then they’ll say, “No rush, . . .but here’s the check.” We eventually caught the attention of a waiter and were off. Every time we get the check in Portugal, we are pleasantly surprised by how low it is. Wine is often cheaper than a bottle of water. Even at the wine bar, we could have bought an entire bottle for just 14 euro in some cases.
We wandered the riverfront for a spell before climbing back up the hill. By now, it was time for an early dinner (by Portuguese standards anyway). We showed up to an Italian restaurant around 730pm. All in all, a nice easy day in Porto that we were able to enjoy at our own pace, and without having to wait in line at any point. Of course, that may all change tomorrow, when we drive back to Lisbon and try and catch a flight to Madeira.
passports & pepto bismol 