Time hangs in Porto. Its magnificently lingering melancholic soul, floats. The past and the present forget themselves here. There is something romantic in this city divided by the Duoro River–one side older, more traditional, the other side more modern. There is a melody in the gentle wind that crosses the Vila Nova de Gaia, or Gaia, the abandoned buildings, the fading paint on walls, which look like paintings. This city has soul. It’s a ballad. The Atlantic Ocean meets the River Duoro. Fado following you and your shadows, everywhere.
Make sure to walk the small unknown streets and discover the real Porto.
Read more: http://wordswithoutborders.org/dispatches/article/the-city-and-the-writer-in-porto-with-rosa-alice-branco#ixzz2jd94Phwb