PortoPorto

Published on June 29, 2016 ⋅ 4min read

So about 6 weeks ago I was doing an internal training session at work and was sitting next to a Portuguese girl, Angela. We started talking, and I asked when and where I should go to Portugal, as I'd never been and wanted to check it out, like many other places! Well, a couple of days later she messaged me and said that she and a few other Zalandos were going to Porto for the Sao Joao festival, and asked if I'd like to join them. Being the intrepid adventurer and self-enforced wannabe "Yes man", I of course said yes, immediately booking tickets. 6 weeks later came around very quickly and before I knew it, it was Wednesday evening and I was off to Portugal to hang out with some people from work I'd never met! Woohoo. Vier Tage Wochenende!

Turns out one of them, Frank, a German guy working backend on another team, was also on the same flight as me and staying in the same hostel! How convenient. After our flight was delayed, we eventually made it to the hostel about 1am on (now) Thursday, beginning to question whether it was still worth staying in the hostel that night...

Later that day, after a glorious sleep in (it was totally worth staying in the hostel by the way), we rendezvoused with the rest of the group, and spent most of the day walking around the city checking out the sights. That night, it was the Sao Joao festival.

Hot damn, there were a lot of people. I don't think I have ever been surrounded by as many people as during the festival of Sao Joao (St John). It seemed as if the entire city was out in the streets. As far as I could tell, the festival pretty much consisted of walking around with plastic hammers and bonking strangers on the head, watching fireworks, then partying ’til morning. And I'll tell you what, bonking anyone and everyone on the head is a ton of fun!

After eating a very Portuguese dinner, we headed down towards the riverside to watch the fireworks. The one place the walking tour guides said not to go for the fireworks, due to excessive amounts of people. Well, the locals in our group seemed to think otherwise, so down to the river we went!

The fireworks display was all right. Not the most impressive I have seen, but it certainly concluded with a bang — quite literally. A series of concussions that didn't produce much in the way of dazzle or sparkle, but by golly gosh was it loud! The shockwave actually flattened the hairs of my legs! I'd never felt something quite so explosive before. It made me think of an episode of Band of Brothers, when they're in the forests surrounding Bastogne, and Sergeant Lipton talks about how the mortar strikes on their fortified position were more impressive than any fireworks display he'd witnessed. A rather sombre thought to have amidst the press of thousands of cheering, celebrating people, but the thought crossed my mind nonetheless.

After the fireworks, we headed back up the hill towards the main square where there was a free concert being held. What was usually a leisurely 5 minute stroll had become a tedious tramp. Sandwiched amongst everyone else, we were at the mercy of the crowd. Jostled this way and that, it took us over an hour to make our way back. More than once the crowd somehow parted to let an ambulance through. Amazed at how people were able to compress any further, I barely avoided having my feet run over.

By the time we made it back to the square I was exhausted and my back was aching from all the walking I had been doing that day. The concert in the main square was pretty much a standstill, as so many people sought to cram themselves into the area that no one had any space to move. Well past midnight, I decided I'd had enough and called it a night. Despite the hostel being right next to the square and all the noise of celebrations, I had no problem sleeping — my exhaustion saw to that!

Friday we embarked on more sightseeing and enjoyed a short Fado concert, a Portuguese style of music that wasn't all that bad. We hopped off the metro at Casa da Musica on the way back and by chance came across a good ol' fashioned carneval, and some more Fado. I was surprised how many little kids were at the carneval, considering it was now almost midnight! Federico impressed us with his sharpshooting skills at the gun range, then we wrought havoc in the bumper car arena. After having just indulged in Churos, nobody fancied going on the spinning wheel ride.

Saturday we faced a challenge not for the faint hearted: Francesinha.

Francesinha is a traditional dish from Porto. It's basically a heart attack on a plate. Portuguese people like a challenge — I reckon whoever created Francesinha was obviously trying to max out your cholesterol level in the shortest possible time. It is literally bread, sausage, ham, steak, ham, sausage, bread, then covered in cheese, topped off with a fried egg, and swimming in some sort of sauce. Oh, did I mention it comes on a bed of fries? Yes, it's probably one of the heaviest sandwiches you could have. It's a dish you have perhaps once a year, that is, once you've recovered from last year's foodcoma. But, being a Porto specialty, naturally we had to eat one! We waited an hour and a half to be served, at what the locals consider the best Francesinha restaurant in town. When it finally did come, well, I'll let the photos say the rest...

After lunch caught the train down the coast and spent the afternoon relaxing on the beach. I tried for a swim, but the Atlantic ocean is cold! I waded in to shoulder depth before I called it quits, retreating back up the beach to the warmth of my towel. Fortunately I had a Francesinha sitting in my belly, so it wasn't long until my overwhelmed digestive system warmed me up. The evening ended with a rather boring football game between Portugal and Croatia. That didn't stop the crowds turning up to the public viewing! I think Portuguese people like to form crowds.

Sunday it was time to head back home. What a surprise, the flight was again delayed! The time was well spent, however, as I rehearsed the next big hit — a song about the Sao Joao festival in Portuguese. Well, my approximation of Portuguese. It's actually a rather hard language to pronounce and I certainly butchered their language, much to Rui and Angela's amusement!

I think I'll stick to learning German... Es ist nicht so schwierig.