Like its signature sandwich, Porto is unique

No one knows precisely when the first sandwich was created. Centuries before the legendary Earl of Sandwich had his name associated with the comestible concept, people had been wrapping meat and sometimes vegetables in bread (or vice versa) as a quick way of making a meal.

And every culture has its own variation, from the Vietnamese with their French-influenced Bánh Mi to the French themselves with various kinds of cheeses stuffed between slices of the most delicious baguettes ever conceived.

But for pure excess, nothing beats the concoction that is central to Porto, Portugal : The sandwich known as the Francesinha (see photo above).

We’d arrived in Porto mid-day, following our rather arduous bus ride from Lisbon (click here for details). And after checking into our lodging at the Moov Hotel Porto Centro , all four of us – I, my wife Mary Pat and our two Spokane friends Ann and Matt – were hungry. And since Mary Pat had been reading about Porto in the guidebook, she knew both that we had to try the Francesinha and where to find one.

Turns out, one of the of suggested restaurants was just a few blocks uphill. (And let me pause a second here and pose a question: Are all cities in Portugal required to zone streets steeper than the sides of Mount Spokane?) The Café Santiago da Praça has both indoor and outdoor seating, and as the weather was sunny but not at the moment sweltering, we opted to sit outside.

Of course, Matt and I each had to order a Francesinha. I would love to report that I took a couple of bites of that mass of bread, two types of meat and cheese, all smothered in a cheesy sauce and set atop a pile of French fries … and said, basta (or enough). But, no, I ate the whole thing. And many of the fries. So I never have to eat another one as long as I live (which, considering the blend of calories and fats that I’d just digested might not be that much longer).

I have no recollection of how much Matt ate, maybe because I was suffering from a post-lunch daze. I do recall that, after paying for our meals, the four of us went on a long walk – mostly downhill. And after a short stop at the city’s tourist office, we forged on toward Porto’s riverfront.

After visiting scenic Lisbon, our first impressions of Porto weren’t nearly as positive. Much of the area around the São Bento train station was torn up because of the ongoing construction of a new metro station. This resulted in our having to negotiate a way through a gritty, sometimes muddy maze of temporary wooden barricades and sidewalks, all of which were crowded by both of other tourists and by what I assumed were city residents.

Yet because the city fronts the Douro River , which flows from north-central Spain westward across Portugal and into the Atlantic (which sits only a couple of miles west), the riverfront area is one of the city’s big draws. From what we could see, anyway, this area of Porto is where most tourists flock as it hosts a variety of restaurants and other features, from a river walk to the various street performers who ply their trades there.

From the north side of the Douro, we had a clear view of the Gaia Cable Car , which extends on the south side of the river from the Dom Luis I Bridge. From it, during the 5-minute ride, Time Out reports that “you can contemplate the historic area of ​​Porto, the roofs of the cellars of Gaia, the Ribeira , the Clérigos and the Douro in all their splendor.”

We all agreed that might be something we could enjoy later, maybe the following day. But after trekking all that way downhill, at that moment we were thirsty. So we stopped at a place called the Wine Quay Bar where Mary Pat approached a server and said, “We just want a glass of wine.” Her point was that we weren’t hungry and just wanted something to drink. But the woman’s response, besides being communicated in perfect English, was classic.

“Well, you’ve come to the right place,” she said, her straight face betraying only a slight hint of humor. “This is a wine bar.”

Regardless of whether she was trying to be funny, I for one laughed. And for quite a while, we sat there, enjoying our range of drinks (red wine for Mary Pat, an ice-cold sparkling white for me, sodas for Ann and Matt) while listening to the sounds of the street musicians wafting up from the river walk below.

When it came time to leave, we ended up taking a taxi back to the hotel. It was then still fairly early, but aging legs can take only so much, you know.

And that’s how our first day in Porto ended.

Next up : The tile styling of São Bento train station.