Rain clouds roll in off the ocean, clear the river quays, then break apart over the Douro. When the sun returns, wet azulejo facades shine blue and white, the Dom Luís I Bridge throws its shadow on the water, and regulars who ducked inside for a francesinha drift back out.
Across the river, the port lodges of Vila Nova de Gaia keep their oak barrels, and to the west the city runs out to Foz, where the Douro meets the sea. Winters are mild and wet, while summers stay warm, sunny and breezy. A Local Friend reads the sky, the menu and the street for you, so a gray morning still ends at a good table.
