Porto Day 2: We Are Briefly Transported to the Portuguese Bizarro Version of DC

I awoke the next morning and headed to the cafe around the corner for my morning cappuccino and mystery pastry. (I don't know what any of them are, I just pointed to one and ate it.) I wrote a bit in the journal, then went for a slow walk to look at things. I meant to make this my routine while we were in Porto, allowing the old guy time to sleep in and giving me the freedom to just wander around and snap photos of quotidian things that probably don't interest most people. Like these buildings:

 

The tiles are called azulejos. It's an Arabic word left over from the Moorish period meaning something like shiny stone. They became popular in Portugal in the 16th and 17th centuries after the Moors were expelled and the Portuguese had their own horrible Inquisition period. Azulejos can be found in every Portuguese city, but they are dominant in Porto. I'm guessing this has something to do with the earthquake that destroyed Lisbon and developing new architectural styles during the rebuild, but what do I know?

These kinds of tiles are also found in the south of Spain and other areas the Moors controlled, but not quite like this where they cover an entire building.

Some of them are plain, while others are quite intricate. Some form murals. Some houses only have a small surface covered:

 

The time for lunch arrived, so I retrieved the old man and we headed for a market our host had told us about, Bom Successo. It's a lot like DC's Union Market. Once it was a place to buy fresh produce and other foods; now it's a food court.

First we crossed a large circle that reminded me of Dupont if it had palm trees and a griffin perched atop a tall column, then we stopped by the Casa da Musica, a modernist structure for performing arts. Kind of ugly.

The day was overcast but oddly bright. I was having significant trouble with my camera settings. (I lost the sun shield for the lens years ago and have never replaced it.) It was also one of those days where you were constantly stripping layers off than putting them back on.

At the market, we looked at every booth before deciding on our lunch of piglet and potatoes.

sardines everywhere

where we ate

The pig was excellent.

For reference, here is DC's Union Market:

not my photo

After lunch, we wandered a bit. Here is a giant vat of Super Bock:

We tried to visit this cemetery, but it was closed. Apparently some famous people are buried here.

a wall of the cemetery

Poetry never dies

Then we found ourselves at a church. Except it was no longer a church. It was a bar.

I had my first non-Super Bock beer. They only have two main beers in Portugal, although craft beer is making a dent in the market.

We left to search for live music. We only found a bar playing American/British rock music, so we stopped in and talked to some Portuguese about Porto and music. The bartender's favorite band is Arctic Monkeys and I texted a friend about tickets to the Arctics show in DC right then. Not many English-speaking bands play in Portugal; she said she has to go to Paris to see her favorite bands. Bands should go to Portugal - rock music is popular there, although the playlist is limited. I don't know how many times we heard Zombie, What's Going On, Mr. Brightside, Have You Ever Seen the Rain, Ain't No Sunshine, 500 Miles, Sultan of Swing, and a whole lot of Queen. We could practically predict what song would be played next by the end of the trip. But they were mostly good songs, and we sung along.

Wearily we retreated to the hotel. The night was over, it was time to sleep.

Here is one last random pic of a store window:

To be continued...