Views, churches and a showy century dominate Porto sights

Porto is not a subtle city. It hangs its charms out there for all to see.

Its hill-climbing position allows it to arrange all of its dramatic architecture before your eyes at once: substantial monasteries, assertive public buildings, thrusting towers. Confident kings and benevolent saints atop ornate plinths. Steep streets and grand staircases emphasise the majesty of the buildings at their summits. Churches aren't just ornate on the inside: many are covered with azulejo (blue and white tile) murals bringing scenes of heavenly exuberance to the streets.  Three styles predominate: bulky medieval, ornate baroque and showy 19th century, sometimes mixed together on the same building.

And yet, despite all that opulence, Porto reminded me most of Naples and Palermo. There is faded glory and strange juxtapositions as beautifully restored buildings sit cheek by jowl with empty, roofless shells. Smelly, shabby alleyways lead off main thoroughfares. A street band on a patch that could host an 18th century costume drama with few tweaks plays American country music, while a giant, illuminated Portuguese man-of-war makes its modern artistic statement hanging above a classical square. The central market, a wonder of 19th century glass and ironwork, has been turned into a nightclub.

Nothing is quite what you expect. Which is perhaps what makes sightseeing here so much fun. I'd advise a first-time visitor to concentrate on three themes to get the essence of the place.

Churches
I don't know whether it helped or hindered my appreciation to be raised Roman Catholic, but it definitely made my reaction more emotional. Locals poured the treasures coming back from colonies into the glorification of God and the saints. I've rarely seen such a concentration of gold and silver leaf. That glory is populated by an army of lifelike, polychromed wooden statues of saints, a hefty percentage of them in gore-spattered pain. Every crucifix tries to outdo the last in its graphic depiction of Christ's anguish. If the craftsmen who did the decorating were around today, they'd be making horror films. I felt my guilt stirring, and Sister Conahan's ruler rising for a strike.

The most dominant church in town is the cathedral, but to really see sacred Porto's opulent creepiness in full flow, start at the church of St. Francis (Sao Francisco) ... the first of my top three architectural sights in town. Like many churches here, it's a medieval shell encrusted with 15th and 16th century decoration. And I use "encrusted" purposely. The wood carvings covering the altars, walls and dripping from the ceiling are so lush with foliate decoration they feel organic. It's as if this all accreted slowly as metallic creatures floated in and fixed themselves to the walls to shape this strange grotto. It's peopled by stern saints and lofty kings, paint jobs making them remarkably lifelike. Don't miss the amazing tree of Jesse on the left, where kings of Israel perch in golden branches springing from their sleeping ancestor's side. Nearby there's a life-sized young girl, sleeping or dead, tucked into a form-fitting boat as if she's about to be launched on a Viking funeral. She was so realistic I debated whether she was carved and painted wood, or one of those carefully preserved corpses the southern Italians so love. (Frustratingly, I found nothing there, or in guides, to explain this iconography, which I'd never seen before.) Most dramatic is the altar to the Moroccan martyrs, five Franciscans whose missionary work led to their deaths in the 13th century.  We join the scene mid-execution, when one turbaned bad guy is holding up the severed head of the first victim, while the other Moor's sword bites into the neck of the second. There's plenty of blood. The three priests waiting between them, however, have a look of patient resignation as they gaze heavenward. Our lesson: life sucks, get your reward in heaven.

Now head up to the cathedral (Se in Portuguese). More gilt foliage and polychromed saints against grim medieval walls. In the main church, the blockbuster is the solid silver side altar, to the right of the main. Unfortunately it's badly in need of a polish; you wouldn't know it was silver without being told. But there's enough glimmer there to let you appreciate the magnificence beneath. The real highlight here, however, is the cloisters, which have an admissions charge. It's worth it. The sides of the groin-vaulted aisles are lined with scenes in azulejo, bringing some levity to all the religiousity. (It's hard to be grim or threatening in blue and white.) There are attractive side chapels, intriguing tombs, an impressive vestry and a grand staircase. Follow it up for a second-level cloister with good views and another massive tile mural that's decidedly secular, with scenes from classical mythology. This is clearly where the priests came to relax.

It's also worth checking out the sibling Carmelite churches near the famous fountain of the winged lions. Many of Porto's churches are cloaked in azulejo, but this one is most noticeabe because the scenes run down the whole side of the building and are visible across a vast square. Churches for the monks and nuns sit side by side, connected by a tiny, narrow house for the priest who looked after both. It's interesting to compare styles. While they both feature more of the city's trademark gold and silver gilt, lifelike wooden saint statues and twisting columns, the monks' church is muscular and loud in its decorative messaging. The nuns have much more white, light and delicacy ... an altogether more pleasant place to worship in this female correspondent's eyes.

The 19th Century
Portuguese fortunes were in a precipitous free-fall throughout the century, with colonies breaking away, global political power fading and the royal family engaging in dynastic struggles worthy of Game of Thrones. You'd never guess it from Porto, however, where the architecture tells a different story. (A fine proof point that a centre of international trade can outperform the country it's in.)

The best place to see this is the stock exchange building (palacio da bolsa), my second top sight. It's a procession of grand interiors, full of lofty ceilings, exuberant decoration and dramatic murals. Highlights include the main trading hall ... surrounded by gracious arcades and topped with a glass roof framed with colourful crests of the city's trading trading partners ... and a tribunal room where judicial hearings could take place framed by carved hardwoods and scenes of the past. There's an enfilade of grand reception rooms. The blockbuster, however, is an Arab room that's a colourful Aladdin set on steroids.

The traders making their money here bought their books in Livraria Lello, without question the most beautiful bookstore I've ever entered. It comes from the same arts and crafts, historic revival tradition as London's Liberty store, though it's much smaller and resolutely neo-gothic in its design. Fan-vaulted ceilings, gothic-arched bookshelves, gargoyles, heraldic crests, stained glass. In the centre is a remarkable staircase that rises, splits, and continues upwards in two graceful half-circles before meeting at the top. It's a lovely place, and would be perfect for a lingering, soul soothing browse (plenty of English books here as well as Portuguese) were it not jam packed with boisterous Harry Potter fans. J.K. Rowling lived in Porto when she was coming up with the concept of Potter's world and drafting the first book. Lello's is supposed to be the inspiration for Ollivander's wand shop, which is why you now have to queue up to buy a €4 ticket to get in. (Refunded if you buy anything.)

Those 19th century business magnates moved west out of the city centre and started building impressive homes for themselves, some of which you can see on the tour bus route to the beach suburb of Foz. On the way you'll encounter the wonderfully bombastic Peninsular War Memorial. (Just across from the Casa da Musica, the city's greatest contribution to modern architecture.) A massive memorial column rises from the centre of a circular green park. Above a foundational plinth, larger-than-lifesize bronze soldiers and citizens are springing forth with action as they load cannons, thrust bayonets, pass along ammunition and shield their children. At the top of the column, a British lion fierce enough to make his cousins in Trafalgar Square look like pussycats is taut with tension as he prepares to rip the neck out of the prostrate French eagle pinned beneath him. Ironic, but typical, that the most triumphalist British war memorial you'll ever see is in another country.

If you stop to see this, it's worth your time to stroll a couple of blocks out of your way to see the Agramonte Cemetery. Dating from a cholera epidemic in 1855, it turned into the burial ground for the great and the good of Porto. It's a necropolis of free-standing family tombs, chapels and memorials laid out along avenues for promenading, much like London's Highgate (though not as spooky) or Paris' Pere Lachaise (but fewer names you know). There's a pleasing pastiche of architectural styles and some impressive statuary, and it's free to enter.

Dramatic views
A city set on such steep hills has, naturally, fantastic views. Much of the fun of Porto is simply maneuvering yourself into one of the many excellent places for enjoying them.

For the highest and most comprehensive perspective, hike up to the esplanade in front of the Mosteiro da Serra do Pilar. No wonder this place became Wellington's HQ during the Peninsular Wars. Your position across from and above the historic city centre gives you a panoramic view. (See top photo) You also can see most of the port district on the south bank, several bridges and a good distance up and down the river.

While you're here, pay the €1 to get into the small bit of the monastery that's open. (The rest is a military facility, as it's been since Wellington handed it back to the Portuguese.) You get to see a highly unusual and very beautiful circular cloister, which is my third architectural highlight of the city. It's beautiful, soothing and unique in its shape. A shame that the round church it's built to match isn't open.

Another fine view from the south side of the river is to be had at Vinum Restaurant at Graham's port house. You're lower than the monastery here, but still high enough to have an impressive swathe of scenery unfold. From here, that beautiful monastery and the impressive arch of the Dom Luis I bridge take centre stage. (And you can linger over lunch while appreciating it.) The view while walking over the top deck of that bridge is also worth your time. If you can, time your crossing to hit sunset ... which will be right in front of you ... and you may get lucky with striking red skies.

On the old town side of the river, head for the cathedral. This is the matching promontory to the monastery across the river. Now you can see how impressive the port houses are as they nestle into the hills beside the Douro. Lean on the balustrade at the edge of the large plaza and look down on the buildings and roofs stacked below you to get an idea of just how steep the terrain is.  The energetic may wish to climb Clerigos Tower for another God-like view of the historic centre. A more relaxing option is to take in the view from the Jardins do Palacio de Cristal.

I wouldn't put this place high on your list if you're short of time. The gardens are pleasant but unimpressive against English comparisons, and the current crystal "palace" is an early 20th century modernist dome that doesn't live up to the romance of its name. It's a relaxing place for a walk along gravel paths, however, admiring peacocks and art nouveau garden enhancements. There's a little cafe next to a lake that's a wonderful spot for relaxation. The original designers did a fine job planning the vistas: sometimes it's all laid out before you, other times trees and shrubs conspire to give you just a small window onto the world beyond.

There's plenty to see that I didn't mention ... these are just my highlights. The churches and the other architecture might not appeal to everyone, but you must pay attention to those views. Porto has taken the trouble to spread itself before you. Enjoy it.