When Jan and Kate came to stay with me last year, we got on so well that it seemed a good idea to arrange another get together; this time we included Liz, another long term friend.

None of us having previously been to Porto, in Portugal, that was chosen as our destination. Jan found a lovely apartment in the centre of the Ribeira district, within walking distance of so many interesting and historic sites, as well as some excellent restaurants.

There was a great little restaurant just up the road from the apartment; by 4pm on the day we arrived , having had a very early start and having eaten nothing since breakfast, we were all famished, so that’s where we went. Kieran had recommended that we try a francesihna, a traditional Portuguese dish. It’s a sort of hot sandwich; two slices of bread, filled with steak, spicy sausage and ham, topped with melted cheese and served in a pool of gravy, with chips. Not at all my usual fare, but it was actually delicious!

The weather wasn’t great for the first few days, but somehow we managed to avoid the worst of the showers, sheltering in the cathedral,  shops or a market.

We were able to eat lunch outside, on the banks of the river Douro the first day; the threatened rain not materialising until later, just after we’d admired the cloister and climbed the tower of the cathedral, rewarding us with fantastic views over the whole of old Porto.

From the top of the town, we took the funicular down to the top level of the Ponte de Dom Luis 1, a beautiful iron bridge spanning the Douro, and walked across. Trains run across this level of the bridge, within inches of the pavements on either side, but without anything to separate the trains from the pedestrians!  The whole place was refreshingly free of any sort of health and safety measures; it seemed very strange to us Brits.

On the far side of the river are the port producers, all with their shops and tasting areas. We intended to go for a tasting, but ran out of time; however we did take the cable car down from the bridge, walking back along the riverside, soaking up the ambience and stopping at one of the many restaurants for dinner.

We visited the “golden” church of St Francis, so named because the inside is almost totally decorated in gold; hideously over decorated and overwhelming in my opinion, but a must on the tourist trail. I didn’t even take a photo!

We walked miles every day, going to markets and museums, listening to some very talented buskers, ambling round shops and along the riverside and up and down the steep cobbled streets of the old city.

Finally, on our last full day, the rain stopped, the sun showed its face and the temperature rose; we took an old fashioned tram out to where the river meets the sea and watched the waves crashing over the breakwater, while soaking up the sunshine, then stopped for lunch in a sports bar, run by a gruff-looking bear of a German (who turned out to be delightful), wearing a St Patrick’s day Guinness tee-shirt.

Two of the foursome will celebrate their 70th birthdays next year, so I think that’ll be a good excuse for another trip.