When we left Lisbon, midway through the trip, we took a bus north to a land called Porto. When we checked into our hotel in Porto, the receptionist pulled out a map to show us must-sees. Among them was a cafe which, she told us, was where J.K. Rowling penned Harry Potter’s first chapter. She was married to a Portuguese man at the time, and Porto claims the inspiration for the novels.
I am willing to give it to them -- though, having never visited London, the verdict might be premature. The magical Harry-Potter places include:
The Porto train station. The station itself is a huge white stone building on the outside. The inside is covered with murals in blue tile -- called azulejos -- depicting historical and religious scenes. The walls are covered with kings and queens and knights and peasants and farmers and saints and statues and little girls processing. Through the vast arches waiting the trains, which just burst through the mountainside -- the tracks lead in and out of a stone tunnel. We took a cruise up the Douro River to visit wine country (and visited some of Europe’s oldest and highest lock systems) and returned on a train to this station. As we chugged along the dark countryside, I agreed with the assessment that this was the Hogwarts Express.
The Majestic Cafe. When people state that Rowling started writing Harry Potter on a napkin in a European cafe, I picture a small outdoor patio that blends the historic and hipster into one perfect cappuccino. Instead, the Captain and I found a noble tea-room serving high tea in china pots with scones silver baskets and cloth napkins. The walls were tall mirrors lined with golden woodwork and topped with cherubs. The table-conversations rose slightly above a murmur and were accompanied by live music from a grand piano in the back. I honored the occasion with tea and scones -- accompanied by cream for the scones, something that fascinated the Captain.
The bookstore, Livraria Lello e Irmão. When we were told to find the bookstore that inspired Harry Potter and saw its icon on our tourist map, I expected a grand library dominating a street corner. Instead, we walked by the innocuous storefront at least twice before we realized it was the building we sought. The inside, however, did not disappoint. Books, of course, lined every inch of the store -- and a metal track allowed a cart like a mining train to transport books around the floor. And in the center -- a sweeping, doubled staircase, painted brilliant red next to rich wood, leading up to the second floor. The walls hosted paintings and detailed woodwork. And, of course, the books! The Captain found it slightly less fascinating than I did -- he is still learning how to drag me out of bookstores.
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