Porto Tour Hostages

WWFB: “A Three-Hour Tour” Edition

The scene: Porto, Portugal. Late September. You’ve just rolled into town from Lisbon and you’ve scheduled an afternoon walking tour to get an overview of the city, like a damn fool! What were you thinking?

OK, this is a hot take and we’re still trying to process it so I’ll be brief.

We went on what might be the worst walking tour either of us has ever taken, and we’ve been on A LOT of walking tours.

Our guide meant well (they always mean well)—he’s the guy in the photo below, rearranging tables at the cafe for our “coffee break” which was weirdly timed for 3 hours and 15 minutes into our 3-hour tour. #a3hourtour

At the 3.5 hour mark, we came to the stark realization that our guide may have been trying to hold us hostage, so we feigned dinner reservations. Our only regret was that we couldn’t find a natural way to include in our escape plan the nice Danish couple who were similarly contemplating the appropriateness of the title of our walking tour, which involved the words “The Best of Porto.” #leavenodanebehind #sorryman #everymanforhimself

The irony of it all is that the guy’s restaurant recommendation (the place where we had “reservations”) was fantastic and we contemplated going back on another night because where else could we be waited on by Portuguese Adam Sandler and only pay €6 for a liter of rosé?

VERDICT: 7/10 Come for the walking tour. Stay for more walking tour than you bargained for, but at least you get a good story out of it. 

 

Photo: Man rearranging cafe tables. Photo by World's Worst Food Blogger
Our would-be captor rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic that was this walking tour…

 
Photo: Relief in our eyes as we sip sangria after the tour that may still be going on. Photo by World's Worst Food Blogger
Post-tour / Pre-dinner sangria because we needed hide out for a beat to make sure we had truly escaped João and his bad, bad tour.

 
Photo: WWFB giggling with invisible sangria. Photo by World's Worst Food Blogger
See that empty carafe next to me? That was a half-liter of water. See the taller empty carafe in front of that carafe? That was one liter of the finest Portuguese rosé €6 can buy. Did I mention it is empty? And the man behind me? That was our stern waiter, who was convinced that his colleague, Portutuese Adam Sandler (PAS), was harassing us because it appeared that I was crying. I was simply laughing so hard at moment of cross-cultural mind-meld PAS and I exchanged when he compared my husband to the, ahem…unconventionally handsome medieval monk pictured on a tile hanging above our table. #rosé