After arriving at the Porto train station, we were shooed towards the next cab in line where our driver, after Ella told him, “Viela Ilha de Ferra 12,” looked at the printout of the address and then started wagging his finger at us, “Porto, no Porto!” I was confused. Was this a warning? Or was I having a bad dream?
I joined Ella in repeating the address, “In Porto! In Porto!”
So the driver, a tiny ancient guy, indicates that he’s going to ask one of the other drivers behind us. He gets out of the car…and disappears! Then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch his hunched figure passing below my window. Wait, not hunched; I’m hunched; this wizened little guy was bent over, a hunchback without the shoulder bump as a permanent condition. Before I took in his crippled posture I had been considering getting an Uber. But now that was out of the question. I wasn’t going to add insult to defect.
Back in the cab, our misshapen driver rattled on in Portuguese something about not getting us to the address we gave him, but to a better address. At least that’s how I translated it. Needless to say, Ella and I exchanged looks of, “Whatever; let’s see what happens.” The guy goes through the center of town, then starts winding up a narrow street just wide enough to fit the cab. At the top of a cluster of apartments stacked crookedly together in an Escher-like configuration, he comes to dead stop and gestures out his window. Not quite making out what he’s telling us, we pay keen attention to his hand movements. He seems to be indicating that the street we’re looking for is at the bottom of a stone stairwell next to an outdoor escalator. Whether it is or not, an outdoor escalator rising between crammed together apartment buildings is something worth checking out if only for the wondrous oddity of it all.
Ella here. The escalators cover the equivalent of about 4 floors and you can only ride them UP. we were dropped at the top, so we schlepped our luggage down the pitted stone steps.
I just looked up your address on the map. Wow, looks like a wonderful location. I bet the residents in your area appreciate having that escalator. Charlie and I ran into an outdoor escalator in Portugalete, Spain (near Bilbao). I remember being quite happy to see it after a long day of walking.
I certainly appreciated the escalator when we left the apartment in search of a metro stop where we could purchase our Andante card. Even after the escalator, it was another 15 minutes uphill. Oddly, Google maps didn’t make a “mostly flat” claim, or any claim at all about the route.
I looked at street view. Each building has several addresses. It looks from the outside like #12 is four stories, one room on each story, and #14 is the same on the left. I’m looking forward to your photos of the place and see what the real story is. And just a few steps away the Escadas do Monte dos Judeus. Given that you can drive right up to your front door he might have done a better job.
Hey, this is fun. Like traveling but we get to stay home with access to our bidet seat.
The taxi driver was clearly old school. No smartphone clipped to the dash or in evidence anywhere. I suppose if he would’ve googled the address…our street is more of a narrow sidewalk between two buildings, maybe a half block long. But you can access it from the larger street in front!