Good Morning, Porto

The view through the window promised a dry day, which was more than welcome, since the previous evening looked as if a rain cloud had been glued right above us. From our accommodation we stepped straight out onto Rua de Santa Catarina, the main pedestrian street cutting through the city’s old quarter.

Our first stop was a bakery for a quick morning coffee and a croissant, and just a few steps further we reached one of the most photographed churches in Portugal – the Chapel of Souls.

Capela das Almas – the Story of the Tiles

To understand why this church is so recognizable and one of Porto’s top photo spots, you first need to understand azulejos.

These glazed ceramic tiles arrived on the Iberian Peninsula together with the Moors. The word itself comes from the Arabic الزليج (al-zillij), supposedly meaning “polished stone” — or at least that’s what Wikipedia claims…

History says that the Portuguese king Manuel I fell in love with these tiles during a visit to Seville and the Real Alcázar palace, and returned home with the idea of bringing a similar style to Portugal.

The Portuguese adopted the tiles, refined them, and transformed them into something uniquely their own. Azulejos are not merely decoration, but a visual narrative woven into the everyday life of cities and churches.

Each tile is part of a larger picture, like a page in a book. When you stand before them, you’re not just looking — you’re reading. All 15,000 “pages” at once.

Mercado do Bolhão and Santa Catarina — from Locals to the Whole World

People say that on Santa Catarina Street, you meet locals in the morning, and by midday you meet half the world — and indeed, it started filling up fast.

We made a short detour to the covered market Mercado do Bolhão, where we stocked up on fruit and spices, which sadly didn’t survive the journey back to Slovenia. Nara wished for strawberries the moment she spotted them.

Long ago, a natural spring flowed here, giving the area its name: Campo do Bolhão — the “field of bubbles.”

Walking among the vendors — one selling cheese, another herbs, others fruit and vegetables — you get the feeling the bubbles are still rising, just in a slightly different form.

Igreja de Santo Ildefonso – the Neighborhood Church

A short walk later, we find ourselves at the foot of the gently sloping Praça da Batalha, where the Igreja de Santo Ildefonso reveals itself through 11,000 azulejo tiles.

This was a church of the people – a neighborhood church, deeply rooted in family life. Craftsmen, merchants, and wine-making families were married here, generation after generation.

Santa Catarina Street ends here, and once again you become aware that cars, too, are an inseparable part of the city.

São Bento – history on the walls and a grand tiled “bathhouse”

Another azulejos masterpiece is São Bento railway station. Crowded with tourists, yes – but for good reason.

As soon as you step into the main hall, you are surrounded by scenes from Portuguese history: battles, royal processions, rural life and everyday city scenes, all spread across more than 20,000 azulejos. São Bento is essentially a visual textbook of Portugal – except you don’t read it, you walk through it in just a few metres.

The space itself isn’t very large, which is why it quickly fills up with tour groups, each with its own guide trying to claim the best spot beneath the azulejos. So you end up watching two battle scenes at once — one on the wall, and one unfolding right in front of you.

Before the station existed, a Benedictine monastery stood here. For more than a decade, a single nun lived there entirely on her own. Surrounded by crowds today, it is hard to imagine how empty and silent this place must have been when she was alone. When she finally left the monastery in 1892, it was soon demolished and construction of the railway station began.

That long period of solitude later became part of local folklore. Porto says that the spirit of the last nun still appears at the station — a quiet reminder of what once stood here. They say that late at night, when the hall finally settles and tourists drift away, you might hear the soft rustle of robes or gentle steps across the tiles, as if someone were silently crossing the platform…

Of course, with all due respect to Portuguese culture — when you look at all these azulejos, you can’t help but think of one giant bathroom covered in blue-and-white tiles. And then there’s the crowd of people waiting for their trains… Beautiful and amusing all at once. I’ll end this thought here, before the good nun decides to come after me for my irreverence

The Most Beautiful McDonald’s in the World

This part of Porto was essentially one big construction site, so after a few improvised detours we somehow made it to Praça da Liberdade. The Square of Liberty, often described as the city’s living room. Here, the Portuguese — after all those colorful façades and blue-and-white tiles — wanted to show the world that they, too, can be elegant and dignified.

The square sits exactly between the old and new Porto, aligned with the river and the city hall. It’s framed by neoclassical buildings, massive façades, columns, symmetry, and the equestrian statue of King Pedro IV… all of it radiating a sense of grandeur and seriousness.

And then you look to the right.
And there it is — a McDonald’s. Complete with stained-glass windows and chandeliers, supposedly the most beautiful in the world. They almost pulled off the seriousness.

A City of Churches

Porto is a city of churches. In the historic center alone, there are more than thirty, and over a hundred across the wider urban area. This is no coincidence. In the 17th and 18th centuries, Porto was an important religious and commercial hub, which is why brotherhoods and religious orders built churches on nearly every available corner.

Because the city is built on a hilly landscape along the Douro River, these churches appear in layers: one bell tower above another, façades facing one another, stairways leading to ever new viewpoints. As you walk through Porto, you get the feeling that the city grows upward and downward at the same time – and that its bell towers keep it all in balance.

Sé do Porto – the Beginning of the City

On the Pena Ventosa hill, only one landmark truly reigns – the Sé Cathedral of Porto. Long before the Romanesque church stood here, this spot was a fortified Celtic settlement, later becoming the Roman stronghold of Portus Cale.

From here, the city slowly expanded: first toward the river, then upward across the surrounding hills. Porto did not grow in straight lines, but in layers, shaped by the rugged terrain that defines it.

When you stand at the Sé, you are not just visiting a church. You are standing at Porto’s point of origin – at the very beginning of the city.

Construction of the cathedral began back in the 12th century, at a time when Portugal was still taking shape as a kingdom. That’s why its original style is Romanesque — massive, heavy, almost fortress-like. The clean, simple lines of the interior vault still give a sense of solidity and quiet.

Its exterior isn’t exactly pretty, but it radiates strength. It feels as if it wasn’t built to impress, but to endure. And that’s what makes the Sé so different from many southern Portuguese cathedrals; it isn’t bright or lavish, but firm and carved from stone. (Although later in Lisbon we did find one that felt quite similar.)

From its courtyard, one of the finest views of Porto opens up before you. It’s the moment when everything clicks — you’ve already felt the city physically, in your legs and breath, climbing all those steps. Only then do you lift your eyes and truly see the city stretching out in front of you…

A baptism was taking place inside the church, a street musician on the square was singing Clapton’s Tears in Heaven and we sat down on the stone steps of the monument with everyone else, simply enjoying the moment.”

Dom Luís I Bridge – Two Paths, Two Perspectives

You could sit by Sé for hours, but sooner or later the view of the bridge and all the life happening down by the river will lure you to your feet. From the cathedral’s courtyard, you slowly descend through steep, narrow streets. Eventually, the stone alleys give way to a wide riverside promenade, full of restaurants, cafés, and even more tourists — the very reason you’re here too.

Soon enough, there’s nothing to do but sit down again and admire the bridge once more — the same one you admired from above at Sé, only now you see it in all its true grandeur.

Dom Luís I Bridge is one of Porto’s most iconic symbols — architecturally and in spirit. It was designed by Teófilo Seyrig, a former student of Gustave Eiffel, which becomes obvious at first glance: the massive iron arch, the precision of the structure, and the overall feel that makes the bridge both technical and elegant.

Completed in 1886, it has two levels: the upper deck is used by pedestrians and the metro, while the lower deck connects the riverside Ribeira with the neighbouring city of Vila Nova de Gaia, home to the world-famous port wine cellars.

Miradouro Serra do Pilar — a View That Earns Itself

It makes far more sense to cross the bridge on the upper deck, because that path leads naturally toward the viewpoint of Miradouro Serra do Pilar. From up there, the whole of Porto opens in front of you. But we were down below, where the view opened… straight onto a hill.

We crossed the bridge on its lower level and soon realized we were among the few who didn’t quite think things through. For our “brilliant” choice, we rewarded ourselves with nearly a kilometer of uphill walking to the viewpoint — and everyone who reached the top was breathing hard… from joy.

No, honestly — it was worth it. Every single step. Below you, the river Douro winds like a snake, Ribeira swallows new tourists one after another, you see narrow alleys, red rooftops, Sé and the bridge, and somewhere far off in the haze the Atlantic must have been hiding…

It’s one of those moments when the city stops being just beautiful — it becomes a part of you.

Port Wine — the Story of a Fortified Wine

The story of Porto is, of course, also a story about wine. Port didn’t get its name from where the grapes grow, but from where the wine arrived. The grapes ripen far inland, in the Douro Valley, and the wine was once transported down the river in barrels on wooden boats called rabelos. The journey was long, full of dangerous rapids, and the heat — combined with all the shaking and rolling — often began to change the wine’s flavor.

So during fermentation they added a bit of grape spirit, which stopped the fermentation, leaving some of the natural sugar in the wine. That’s how port wine was born — sweet, aromatic, and strong enough to “survive” the rough journey down the river.

When the boats reached the city, the wine wasn’t stored on the Porto side of the river, in Ribeira, but across the water in Vila Nova de Gaia, where conditions were perfect for slow aging in barrels. Ribeira became the main port for exporting the wine. Here, the barrels were pumped out, arranged, marked, and prepared for the journey that would present Porto’s wine to the world.

Francesinha — more than just a sandwich

We dashed over the bridge under the metro line, escaping the first drops of rain and hiding under the awning of a small restaurant.

Before the trip, I had watched a few YouTube videos about local food, and the Francesinha instantly caught my eye — at first glance it looked like a perfectly legitimate sandwich.

So now it was time to finally order this “little French lady.”First impression: a sandwich on steroids.

Because somehow, between two slices of bread, they managed to squeeze beef, ham, and something that looked suspiciously like sausage. Then they drowned the whole thing in melted cheese and a spicy sauce. And as if someone worried this still wouldn’t be enough, they topped it with a fried egg and served it with a pile of fries. All that with the clear intention of rounding the calorie count to a neat 1500.

Thankfully, that uphill climb earlier probably saved my arteries. The girls, of course, ordered something far more sensible.

Livraria Lello — a myth that lives a life of its own

To understand our next stop, we need to put things into the right context.

Ever since she was little, Nara has been a huge Harry Potter fan. It began with plush owls and magic wands, continued with LEGO castles, and then came the books. By second grade she had already read the first one — The Philosopher’s Stone. Since then, Harry has travelled with us on every trip — if nothing else, as a book tucked in her backpack. 

So our journeys are often shaped, at least a little, by the young wizard from Hogwarts, and Porto was no exception.

When I was planning my visit to Porto, Livraria Lello — one of the most visited bookstores in the world — naturally made it onto my must-see list. Why? The myth that J. K. Rowling supposedly found inspiration for some Harry Potter scenes right here.

At the heart of the bookstore are its spectacular winding stairs and the large stained-glass ceiling above them — but honestly, that’s about it. The shop is small, packed, and rather chaotic, and most visitors are there mainly for that “perfect” selfie.

Rowling later said that during the time she lived in Porto, she never even set foot in Lello.

But myths have their own power — and Lello has become a pilgrimage site for anyone who has ever opened a Harry Potter book.

If you ask me, it’s pure tourist bait, and you can safely skip it.

Still, it wasn’t all bad — Nara found the book she had been looking for, and that’s what truly matters.

Clérigos — The Light That Ends the Day

The day was slowly coming to an end, the city lights were starting to flicker on, and the line in front of the bookstore was even longer than before. But after roughly 20,000 steps, one final act still awaited us.

Torre dos Clérigos — the baroque church that feels like the more elegant, brighter sibling of the austere Sé Cathedral — rises above the city with its 75-meter tower, visible from almost everywhere we had walked that day. In recent years, the church has also hosted an evening light performance, a semi-surreal projection that completely pulls you in. The burst of colors and light left us speechless.

With our necks aching from looking up, we hurried back past Capela das Almas to our Portuguese home, racing the approaching storm.

And just like that, the day wrapped itself up…

…and then the sky opened.