Porto. The city was called Portus in imperial times, and all of Portugal now bears its name.
A merchant city with an urban fabric that sometimes seems to break down, metamorphosing. A medieval Cathedral that overlooks a hill that seems to be inhabited by darkness and fear. Some prostitutes, few tourists.
In February 2012, Porto is calm. I arrive a few thousand years after the founding of Portus. Stereotypes give me a biased view, in broad strokes, of the city of port wine.
It was the end of a day, wandering through the ancient city, when I discovered, through a great iron arch, an endless landscape. I crossed the Moorish wall and passed sweet-smelling orange trees. And then the winding river appeared. And then these warehouses, which roost in the cliff, dangerously hanging over the Douro. A landscape dominated by an octagonal monastery from the Renaissance.
Porto defeated me. I fell in love.
Tags: Exploring the City, Porto, Portugal