A Saturday in Porto

My wife and I decided to go downtown to do a few errands and have a sit down at a café with a view of the river. It takes us about ten minutes to walk into the center of Porto from where we live, and a further ten minutes to get to the two delicatessens my wife had in mind; one selling coffee, and the other one specializing in fine foods.

A further five minutes walk in the direction of the river got us to one of the many backstreets and alleys of Porto. This is where the café my wife had in mind is located.

Porto alley

It's a curious aspect of Porto that some of the poorest areas are located in the most picturesque parts of town. The reason for this is that the alleys are impossible to navigate by car. Everything has to be carried in and out by hand, and a stunning view of the river Duoro is not sufficiently rewarding for people to want to live there. There's also too little tourism in these places to allow for wholesale refurbishment, so the properties remain relatively dilapidated.

A consequence of this is that cafés in these locations are as affordable as the view is stunning. There are not enough tourists for prices to be raised to the levels seen in central areas of town. With everybody scared stiff of the virus, there's even less business, and even less incentive to raise prices. Hence, we had pretty much the café's entire terrace to ourselves, we had excellent service, and our meal came at a reasonable price.

A café void of clients

There was nothing wrong with the temperatures. We kept our jackets on, but there was no wind, and the sun was sufficiently strong to make the experience pleasant. The absence of clients would have been a complete mystery had it not been for the campaign of fear launched against us by snake oil salesmen on TV. People are staying at home. The only ones out and about are the ones unaffected by the fear mongering, and those who have to leave their houses for essential errands.

Porto's Dom Luís I Bridge, usually packed with tourists, was relatively void of people. If the goal of the fear mongering was to crush the tourism industry, I'd say they've succeeded.

Dom Luís I Bridge

But none of this bothered my wife or me. We ordered a beer and a Francesinha for each of us, leaned back, and enjoyed the experience.

We live in strange and unusual times. However, none of the restrictions tossed at us have so far affected us much. We see people hurry about with their masks tucked in over their noses. That's sad and disheartening. But others do like us; walk about with their masks hidden from view, and only putting them on when absolutely necessary.

There's sufficiently many of us to make it clear that a substantial minority is fed up and finished with the scare campaign. We are not yet in a majority, but no-one is any longer approaching us with a lecture in mind. Wearing a mask has become a personal choice.

Waiting for our Francesinha