Day 3 - Portugal: Porto and Gaia

We caught a 6:15 AM Vueling flight from Barcelona to Porto after a 4:00 AM wake-up call and a light snack packed to go. By the time we landed, the sun was just rising over the city, casting long shadows across the curved concrete overpasses outside the airport. We stepped into the cool morning light, where our coach waited beneath sweeping arches and sleepy silhouettes. 

 The first breath of Porto, still wrapped in shadow and promise.

Our Porto adventure kicked off with rumbling tummies and a warm welcome at Café Bom Gosto, where we got our first taste of pastel de nata—flaky, creamy, and just enough to tide us over until the promised pilgrimage to the legendary Pastéis de Belém later in the trip.

Fueled by breakfast, we set off for the Dom Luís I Bridge, ready to take in Porto from one of its most iconic viewpoints.

Dom Luis Bridge

Panoramic views of the Douro River and cityscape.

My Porto gallimaufry

 Estação de São Bento (São Bento Railway Station)

Estação de São Bento is one of Porto’s most beautiful landmarks — a train station that feels more like an art gallery than a transit hub. Step inside and you’re greeted by over 20,000 azulejos (hand-painted ceramic tiles) depicting Portugal’s history — from royal battles to scenes of rural life. Designed by Jorge Colaço in the early 1900s, these blue-and-white murals took 11 years to complete.

The azulejos at São Bento are stunning. History told in blue and white, with so much detail you could stare for hours.

Rua das Flores

Largo de São Domingos

Lunch @ City Wok

A medley of flavors at City Wok—Asian, Mediterranean, and Argentine.

Next, our coach rolled across the lower deck of the Dom Luís I Bridge into Gaia for a boat cruise on the Douro.

Vila Nova de Gaia

The Douro cleaves Porto from Gaia, its waters glinting beneath six graceful bridges that span the divide. On one bank, Porto rises in a mosaic of tiled rooftops, bell towers, and lively quays; on the other, Gaia unfolds in hushed streets and storied wine lodges. Two cities, facing each other across the river—one vibrant, one serene.

The cities looked different from the water—rooftops stacked like postcards, bridges stretching overhead, and quiet corners we hadn’t seen on foot. 

Gaia and Porto from the water. 

Stepping out of the boat after the enchanting cruise, we stumbled upon a sardine shop that felt like walking onto a mini-carnival set on Broadway—bright, theatrical, and full of quirky surprises. But that experience deserves its own story, for another post.

O Mundo Fantástico da Sardinha Portuguesa

We made our way across the bridge again, this time on foot, toward Ribeira.

Porto's colorful Ribeira

The Dinner That Almost was.

That red building in the middle? Ode Porto Wine House.

After a scenic boat ride on the Douro, our group of 30 explored the Ribeira area—wandering its alleys, soaking in the river views, and chasing the golden light. We were meant to reconvene at Ode Porto Wine House—a charming spot tucked into Ribeira’s historic heart. It was supposed to be our dinner highlight. But when we arrived, the doors were firmly shut and locked, with no sign of welcome.

We waited. And waited.
It turned into quite a long, uncertain pause, with thirty of us clustered awkwardly on a slope, squeezed between Ribeira’s tightly packed buildings. There was barely room to stand, let alone regroup. We must have looked like a flash mob gone rogue—half hopeful, half hungry—until a local finally broke the silence:
“You are aware that you need a reservation to get in?”
Turns out, our tour manager had sent the booking request from Malaysia, but the restaurant never received it. Miscommunication, missed email—whatever the reason, we were stranded.

In Porto (and across Portugal and Spain), reservations aren’t just polite—they’re essential, especially for groups. Most restaurants won’t seat large parties without advance notice, and even splitting up doesn’t guarantee success. Many places operate on a reservation-only basis during peak hours.

We were hungry. We needed toilets. And we needed a plan.

That’s when Morocco Shisha Bar became our unexpected savior. No food, but drinks and restrooms—enough to regroup and salvage the evening. Quite an experience for us, as none of us had ever been to a shisha bar before—and it turned out to be a very cozy place. Eventually, we landed at McDonald’s. Not the dinner we imagined, but a story we’ll never forget.

I 🧡🧡🧡 Porto

There’s something soulful about Porto, but it’s along the Cais da Ribeira where the city truly sings. Music is never far — always a stone’s throw away. A busker strums his guitar from a shaded corner, a violinist plays by the promenade, his open case catching coins and smiles, and someone’s voice rises in a melodious serenade, basking in the golden light. Every now and then, you’ll even catch the faint strain of fado floating from a nearby bar — that unmistakable, yearning Portuguese soulfulness that wraps around you like a story sung in moonlight. It’s not just background noise — it’s the rhythm of the riverfront, the pulse of a city that wears its heart on its sleeve. I love how Porto invites you to pause, listen, and feel part of something timeless