Portugal Travels - Wine to put Bacchus to shame
We found our way to the Porto Riviera through some dark streets and alleys. The view across the river was spectacular, with the city's impressive bridges crossing high above us, as if suspended in air. On the other side of the River Douro was the town of Vila Nova de Gaia, but more on that later.
Lining the river promenade were endless small bars and restaurants where traditional Portuguese food consisting mainly of fish and shell fish were being served. By this time the temperature had risen considerably, so as Ed and I walked along the seafood-scented river bank we decided that a pitcher of sangria and a snack of olives would be perfect. The atmosphere of the ribeira was relaxed and happy, and we soon realized that anyone who comes to Porto without coming here cannot truly be said to have been to Porto at all.
After lunch we wanted to get the most out of the sunny day, so we walked towards the funicular which would take us the top of Pena Ventosa Hill, the rocky escarpment where the imposing cathedral known as Sé stood. The cathedral was build on a small vantage point overlooking the river and most of Porto, so it didn’t come as a surprise that the old Romanesque cathedral looked more like a fortress.
We walked the worn steps up the street that led to the cathedral, with majestic views of the orange tiled roofs of traditional houses huddled together around narrow serpentine streets. When we reached the entrance of this extraordinary cathedral we found that there was a wedding about to take place. Being the silly little girl that I am, I begged Ed to stick around until the bride arrived. Not only did he stick around, but he convinced me to sneak inside the church and take part of the ceremony. I wondered how he thought we would blend in with our tired jeans and sneakers, among guests who were exquisitely dressed.
Nonetheless we sat inside just enough to see the bride walk in with her father (which was very emotional even though they were total strangers) but then decided to give them the privacy and respect they deserved. So we left towards the cloisters of the cathedral.
Church cloisters have always been my weakness. I think of them as quiet places for contemplation and introspection, and I often imagined the silent nuns or monks walking through the secret-filled vaults at dawn holding a delicate rosary or a prayer book, the only noise the ruffle of their thick habits. And as we walked through the door I realized no other cloister compares to the Sé Gothic cloisters.
Inside we were inundated with blue light reflecting from the blue and white azulejos or tile work. The harmonic combination of gothic and baroque architectural elements were perfect for the stories the ceramics depicted, such as scenes from David’s psalms, the life of Maria and Ovid’s Metamorphosis. Upstairs a terrace with more azulejos showed scenes from the collection of the grape harvest so popular in these parts of Portugal. Other pagan images included Bacchus riding on a sea monster escorted by small cherubs.
We exited the cathedral and walked back towards the bridge that would lead us across the river towards Vila Nova de Gaia. Evidently the best views of Porto are found up here. The river below held the perfect shadow of the Bridge Luiz I and the pastel colored houses that spread down the gorge unto the banks of the Douro seemed small fragile doll houses. continue...
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