"I'm sure it's this way..." Said Frankie's brain to Frankie's uncertain feet.
"But what if it isn't? You're already late to meet NewMan." My uncertain feet shuffled ahead with great reluctance.
"But this road looks to go downhill and you can see the big Pont Luis just down there. It must be right..." My brain pushed on. "Besides, if it's not you're meeting him for Port tasting....We both know he'll find something to help him pass the time."
Despite themselves my feet continued walking down the road, which turned into an alleyway, which turned into a narrow staircase lined with old terraced houses. Ahead of me a woman walked out of one carrying a plate of shiny silver fish. She walked down one flight of stairs and seemed to disappear into another doorway. She was like some sort of White Rabbit as I felt the need to walk down and follow her.
The stairway - thank goodness - led down and after a few corners were turned, I could see how this may possibly, potentially, hopefully connect to the very foot of Pont Luis, the bridge I needed to cross.
"See, I told you." My brain couldn't help let a little retort slip out.
My feet - often wiser than my brain, which is a little sad to admit - didn't rise to the challenge and instead kept walking downwards, pausing only to see a small cat cowl at the foot of a doorway.
Just a few steps later, both my brain and my feet were silenced by the stunning views I was enjoying all thanks to getting lost, running late and inner conflict.
I now urge you to seek out Escadas Guindais, if you ever find yourself in Porto. Just be prepared to stop many, many times and have your camera ready.
Frances M. Thompson
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