Here is a much delayed and fairly quick record of my short visit to Porto earlier this year. A new tradition was started last year when an old friend and I decided to meet up once a year somewhere roughly “halfway” and ideally sunnier than our respective homes. This year’s destination was hilly & beautiful Porto.

Ironically for a trip that was meant to be all about talking, I so completely lost my voice for the first few days of the trip that I had to communicate through my phone screen. Even whispering was impossible. Even this didn’t stop us from catching up and chewing over the year since we last saw each other.

Cityscape impressions

I loved Porto’s architecture and character, and its vertical structure. It has that same grungy roughness and beauty that I so enjoy about Budapest, and I’m always a sucker for cities that combine hilly, “multilevel” streetscapes and a waterfront.

The thing that left the biggest impression on me, and the biggest question in my mind, was the volume of abandoned dwellings all throughout central Porto.

A tour guide explained how scores of families were forced flee their homes during Portugal’s era of dictatorship, abandoning everything they owned and leaving these beautiful structures to decay. The sheer number of these buildings boggles the mind, all gorgeous architecture in various well-progressed stages of disrepair.

On the other hand of the decay-to-opulence spectrum was the Bolsa, home of Portugal’s original stock exchange:

Tourist attractions and religious sites were well preserved, highly invested in and very obviously cared for. It was strange and uncomfortable to see the gaping divide between the two extremes. Central Porto felt like a place where only tourist ventures succeed. A place at danger of becoming a pretty Hollywood set, merely modelling its former beauty.

Night walks

All this said, I loved Porto. It’s a stunning place to walk, to paint and draw or to just get lost in. Especially at night, or during the blue hour. If I manage another visit, I’ll be sure to take a boat ride up the river Duoro to check out those vineyards.

Until then, I’m left with these postcards to remember by.