Field Notes - Porto, The Mountains, and Human Crossings
A friend came down from up North yesterday to see Victor Torpedo's photography exhibition Call of The West here in Porto. He had booked concerts for Tédio Boys in the US back in the 90s. The trip itself was already complicated. No buses on time from his village. He had to drive to Braga first, then take a bus to Porto. I met him at Campanhã, the huge transport hub. While waiting, I sat barefoot on the grass in the small green area behind the transport hub, trying to cool down from the heat and the strange weather these last days have brought. Porto was overflowing. São Bento and Ribeira were packed to the point of becoming almost abstract. Tourists everywhere. Noise, movement, heat, bodies pressed together like canned sardines. The city feels different now. Sometimes I still recognise it. Sometimes I don’t. The exhibition was beautiful though. And human. We met people we knew. We spoke. We remembered things. Then, after leaving, something small happened. My friend ask...
