Portugal Travelogue, Part 2
As we continued our slow adventure around Portugal, the first few days were acclimatising to a slower pace and being intentional about how we spend our time, and where/what to eat.
It's quickly turning into a meandering adventure, that only happens in cities that seem designed for just it - Porto, and it's serpentine alleyways, cobbled hills, and mystery steps that twist around corners and into hidden squares and streets - was made for meandering.
We're in no rush and there is no itinerary for a few days when we get out next train, so we follow our curiosity and let the city set the pace.
We can sniff out an artisan market now, and happen upon three different strips of little huts and umbrellas with lovely things. I buy some notebooks and pouches - always popular impulse purchases on my market stalls, they’re useful, and tactile.
Riding Through History: Porto’s Iconic Trams
Porto's trams are more than a mode of transport, they are living history.
The first electric trams rolled out in 1895, making Porto one of the earliest adopters in Europe. Today, only a few lines remain, clattering their way along the river and through the old neighbourhoods, each one a beautifully restored wooden carriage that feels like stepping back in time.
Naturally, we geeked out.
We took a tram along the Douro… then another tram… then a tram to the tram museum… then a tram back up the hills. All the trams.
The clatter, the rocking - sometimes quite dramatic, sometimes a slow lull. I position myself directly behind the driver for a front row view to feel what it's like to pilot one of this magnificent contraptions.
Hobbymaxxing
In another old old tram shed, we find an exhibition space.
They are showing immerisvice art installation so we step into a multi‑sensory digital art show celebrating Monet and Klimt.
Flowers blooming across the floor, gold swirling up the walls, famous works dissolving and reforming around us. Colourful, joyful, and unexpectedly emotional.
It made me want to create again. Not for productivity. Not for the shop. Just for the sake of making something.
I came across the term hobbymaxxing recently. The idea is to try lots of hobbies slowly, gently, without pressure to be good or consistent.
My very neuro‑spicy tendency to gather hobby supplies, get excited, then abandon them… has a name and is a thing (who knew?)
After that exhibition, I’m determined to dig out my sketchbooks when we get home. Fill pages with colour, texture, scribbles. If something becomes a product later, great. But that’s not the point.
I started by sketching a church tower (Clérigos Church) from the balcony that afternoon when we were chilling out in the shade through the heat of the day.
The point is slowing down enough to make again.
Sketching in my travelogue notebook is a good place to start.
A Cheesy Museum & A Cheeky Shortcut
We wandered into the World of Discoveries museum. Featuring a Disney‑style boat ride through foam rocks, plastic plants, and slightly terrifying mannequins. Educational in theory, hilariously naff in execution. But charming in its own way.
By the time we left, we were ready for the hill climb back to our apartment… except we found the laziest cheat imaginable. São Bento station sits at the bottom of the hill, but there’s an escalator entrance at the top. So we ducked into the metro, walked through the underpass, and popped out at the top on an escalator like smug little gremlins who’d outsmarted gravity.
Teresa the Unexpected Friend
On the way home, we stopped in a small square and were immediately accosted (in the friendliest way) by an elderly woman in colourful, mismatched clothing. Teresa. She ushered us into her tiny terrace restaurant with the authority only grandmothers possess.
She barely spoke English but took an instant liking to me. She fussed, touched my cheek, complimented my necklace, then served us home‑cooked plates of burgers, pork, chips, and salad. Graham was ignored entirely until she decided he could have a Sprite too.
Entertainment from the balcony at our apartment has been watching workmen demolish the ruin behind our block, rubble swinging over our heads from a crane.
Porto is cranes and trams and chaos and charm all at once.
Slow Living, Slow Travel, Slow Hobbies
Porto is reminding me that slowing down is intentional. It’s choosing trams over taxis, markets over malls, art over algorithms, home‑cooked food over convenience.
It’s choosing hobbies that make your hands move and your mind quiet.
When we get home, I’m pulling out my abandoned sketchbooks. I’m letting myself play again. Colour, form, texture. No pressure, no plan.
If something becomes a Hen’s Tooth product one day, lovely. If not, it still matters.
Because slow hobbies are slow living. And slow living is how we build a life that feels like ours.