1) Determined not to sleep away more time in Porto than necessary, somehow I managed to get out the door by 10 AM and rush through two essential churches: the Carmo and the Misericordia.
1a) Is Rick Steves the 21st-century version of Baedeker? Would anyone else think of that but me? En route to the Carmo I picked out a couple local landmarks that might otherwise have escaped my attention: the lion fountain, and an Art Deco store facade featuring a peacock. I wouldn’t have known to appreciate them if I hadn’t reviewed the work of Mr. Steves (and his team) in advance.
2) The woman selling tickets at the Carmo asked everyone where they were from.
3) I was surprised to be immediately inside the church, no vestibule or anything. About five minutes later it surprised one little girl who came in so much that she tripped and fell. It’s a high impact interior.
HIGH IMPACT.
3a) The altar was nearly identical in design to the Clérigos church I’d seen the day before, only all gold. And the various religious statues, if anything, were more alive, more animated. I got much more of a sense of theatre from this church, uncomfortably so. I took fewer photographs than usual.
3b) No live organ recital, just pre-recorded Gregorian chanting.
3c) Weaving through long narrow corridors and staircases with many turns and rooms and balconies, I got the impression that the Carmo was really just a gilded anthill for tourists.
3d) But the most incongruous detail: the screen separating tourists from the organ loft upstairs was a design involving flamingoes. It felt . . . it felt Art Deco.
There’s a lot less smoke in the air today.
4) I sheared off down a long street that clearly had a church at the end of it, seeing interesting bits of urban decay among the shoals of tourist groups. But the church at the end was not the Misericordia, but the Beata Victoria (or something) and a scenic overlook of the Douro River — full of tourists in groups scenically overlooking. Aside from the view, there was some prominent graffiti.
5) Anytime the map app shows you a lot of zigzags in Porto, it surely means topography. So there was a switchback staircase to climb, but I was far from the only lost tourist groping around to find the Misericordia. Marvelous way to see the real Porto . . .
6) The Misericordia is more than a church. For centuries it was the premier charitable institution in Porto. The exhibition begins on the top floor in a gallery of donor portraits. Now you know how I love 19th-century portraiture, but . . . gurrllll, should this be a priority?
Made from the gold of wedding rings of anonymous donors.
6a) What I found truly meaningful was the small exhibit dedicated to anonymous donors, featuring a communion chalice made out of the gold of wedding rings of those donors.
Notice the altar is the same as at the other churches, but in white and gold instead of polychrome marble or plain gold.
6b) Beautiful art, sculpture, and even medical instruments of previous centuries — but I was getting time sensitive. Indeed, I almost missed seeing the church! And I found it quite beautiful, and empty as well, all the walls tiled in blue and white Portuguese tile.
7) I ankled my way through the tourist groups back to my hotel, refreshed myself, and leapt onto the Metro — by now I knew where to use my Andante card — and head over to Gaia for lunch. A high school friend had a friend who just moved to Porto, and she was sure we’d end up having a good conversation.
7a) She was right. As it happens he lives in Gaia — I had passed near his apartment en route to Niepoort yesterday — and he took me to one of his favorite little places in the neighborhood for vinhos verdes and bacalhau à brás, the local speciality. It was encouraging to hear him banter with the ladies in both Portuguese and English, and to banter with me over our excellent lunch. Encounters like this — this is seeing the very best of any city.
8) We ended up spending the rest of the afternoon mountain-climbing the streets in both Gaia and Porto, enjoying negronis at a café near my hotel, and walking even further into more bustling shopping neighborhoods I might not have discovered otherwise. Rua Santa Caterina? Near the dinner hour he needed to return home, but his contribution to my visit here was immeasurable.
9) I went back to my room to regroup before dinner — no, not a nap! — but in those 90 minutes the vigorous food hall I’d been shown two hours before was closing down, the shopper-thronged streets nearly empty. My energy gone. I found a little place near the hotel for something simple with a glass of wine and retired, heavily, to bed.
10) Because tomorrow will be a busy day along the Douro River . . .
The great hall of the Carmo church.