Does every story about a night which you later recall with your friends have to start with "dude, we were sooo drunk"? It seems like ours would more likely start with "oh my god, remember that night in Porto when we got sooo soaked". But let's start from the beginning.
I went on a trip to Porto and, since we arrived late in the afternoon, our first walk around town involved dinner and a night photo-session from a bridge. And it is important to say that Porto has 8 beautiful bridges joining both parts of the city. We crossed one of them, looking to "get the feel" of the true, non touristy Porto. We were ready for all kinds of weather - we had jackets, scarfs and all that. We did not, however, expect any serious change of conditions, as the sky looked "very pretty":
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| Night sky in Porto |
Very pretty soon turned out to be very misleading. It was starting to drizzle, so we decided to head back through the closest bridge. Entering it we were still taking pictures, as the city of Porto has various beautiful views to offer from different perspectives. It was rather windy, but so what? ;)
More or less in the middle of this unlucky bridge, all of a sudden, it started raining cats and dogs. And I mean CATS AND DOGS. We got completely soaked. At some point you just stop caring any more if there is water running through your shoes...
A day later, now we claim rain was hitting us almost horizontally, and the wind did NOT help...
Although the true story might never be revealed, as all our accounts are a bit "influenced" by the bottles of Porto we bought after dinner and enjoyed during that walk;]...
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| The evil bridge |
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