Porto, a City Named After its Wine

Last weekend, I spent far too much time trying to decipher Portuguese. The fact that it’s similar to Gallego did not help me in the slightest–it sounds like a mushy and incomprehensible version of Gallego. Why was Jeannette trying to understand Portuguese? Because I decided to hop a train to Porto for the long weekend!

The train in question left Santiago at 5:45 am, which was as disgustingly early as it sounds. I slept on the train. And then I attempted to sleep in the station in the ass-end of nowhere while we were waiting for another train. And then I slept on the second train to Porto–which was a rattly pain, let me tell you. However, completely worth it, as I arrived at Porto by 10 am, and promptly devoured an amazing sandwich, the Francesi√Īa.

Our hostel was amazing, with super-friendly people who fed me, AND gave us free shots. Basically, they are now my friends forever. We explored the wonderfulness that is Porto–with beautiful sunny streets, a river the runs straight through the town, and a beach nearby. Note: I use the word “beach” loosely, and in the Oregonian sense–it was a beach with a cold wind, crashing waves, and glorious amounts of FOG!

However, the best part of Porto is the wine–Porto wine. Imagine a wine that is much sweeter than normal, because the fermentation process has been halted by the addition of copious amounts of brandy (This addition also jacks up the alcohol content of Porto, a word to the wise). The entire far side of the river is populated by wineries, complete with tours and tastings! Yum yum yum.

My barrel of Ruby porto wine
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