I arrive in Porto, and the many concerts of the last few weeks are still weighing on my bones. I find a spot along one of the few streets where parking is still free. From there, I walk to the nearest park and sit down on a bench in the sun. I could stay here all day, soaking up the warmth.
From a distance, I hear a band playing. It’s only 12:30. Curiosity gets the better of me and I follow the sound. I can’t see the band, but I hear them covering The Strokes and The Killers. Turns out it’s just the soundcheck – the concert starts at 2:30 p.m.
I decide to use the time to play a short set of my own. Afterwards, I’ll call it an early night and check out the city and the band. I set up in a nearby park and start to play. After just a few minutes, an older lady in an orange dress drops 10 euros into my case. Pigeons flutter above me. A dog, shaped like a sausage, stops right in front of my guitar case and lies down. People applaud, a kid starts dancing, and the parents hand me a bottle of water and some coins.
Happy about this unexpectedly sweet moment, I hand out a few stickers to the small crowd. I start chatting with two guys who had been watching the set. They liked the music and ask me if I’d be up for a tattoo. Turns out they’re both tattoo artists and want to give me one – as a gift, from artist to artist, to say thanks for the music. I agree and follow them, gear and all, to their nearby studio.
Now I carry a piece of Lisbon on my skin. In Porto.
Overwhelmed and deeply grateful for the kindness of these strangers, I finally make my way to the concert – which, of course, I missed. The band is packing up. To my surprise, they’re only 15 or 16 years old.
I end up on the rooftop terrace of the Terraplana Café. Not even ten minutes later, I’ve booked a gig for the next day with the owner – turns out he’s the guitarist’s dad. He’s got a lot on his plate, since the place is also his business, but we somehow still find time to talk about everything and nothing.
We both get lost in conversation on the rooftop until, late into the night, Maus Habitos swallows me whole.
My tips for Porto:
Let yourself drift and breathe the city in.
Listen to the street musicians.
Watch the old magician and his tricks – you might find yourself believing in magic again.
Unwind on the rooftop of Terraplana Café.
And dance the night away at Maus Habitos
