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Portugal wasn’t on my list—not because I didn’t want to go, but because I didn’t yet know I needed it. The invitation came wrapped in family when my partner’s extended family planned a special gathering and I was lucky enough to be folded into the mix. What started as a vacation turned into a slow unfolding of a country that feels both familiar and elusive, like a half-remembered dream or a melody you’re sure you’ve heard before.

Each place we visited stitched itself into me differently. This is a travelogue to a country that welcomed me not just with open arms, but with full plates, long toasts, and the kind of conversations that only happen when you linger. 

Porto is a city draped in sea mist where blue-and-white azulejos guard every crumbling corner like weary sentinels. But don’t mistake the melancholy for sleepiness. Beneath the ceramic tiled facades and baroque balconies, there’s a pulse—funky, flavorful, and just a little decrepit. This is a place where salt cod (bacalhau) gets reinvented with Michelin finesse, where record shops double as altars to analog rebellion, and where even your hotel feels like a love letter to faded grandeur and Atlantic blues. Porto hums, and if you’re lucky, you’ll tune in.

  • CHEF ARNALDO AZEVEDO at VILA FOZ RESTAURANT

    Focused and unflinching in the kitchen of Vila Foz Restaurant, Chef Azevedo builds each dish like an architect with a taste for the ocean. His food is grounded in the rugged flavors of the Atlantic—refined, deliberate, and layered with the kind of detail that speaks more to obsession than ornament. Think line-caught fish kissed by fire, seaweed butter, and textures that echo the subtle precision of Michelin-starred craft.

  • FLOR DE LIS

    Flor de Lis is also helmed by Chef Arnaldo Azevedo where he turns bacalhau into something unforgettable—tender, buttery, and layered with crispy textures and well-balanced flavors that felt both familiar and entirely new. Out of the many bacalhau plates I devoured across Portugal, this one stood alone. A dish that didn’t just honor tradition, it outshined it.

    Photo courtesy of Flor de Lis

  • CEDOFEITA

    From the heights of Cedofeita, Porto sprawls out like a mosaic of terracotta with rooftops tumbling toward the river. The Torre dos Clérigos rising proud above it all, the view reminds you that beauty here isn’t curated, it’s inherited.

  • MATERIA PRIMA

    Materia Prima is Porto’s oldest record shop, a vinyl sanctuary that’s been spinning underground sounds and subversive ideas for over 30 years. Tucked into Rua Miguel Bombarda, it’s the kind of place where time dissolves—rows of rare LPs, experimental noise, and avant-garde jazz pull you in, while stacks of indie art books and zines whisper stories from the fringes. The staff is deeply knowledgeable, refreshingly unpretentious, and always ready to guide you through the strange and beautiful. If you’re the type who finds joy in the tactile, the obscure, and the analog, this is your church.

  • VILA FOZ HOTEL & SPA

    Once a private mansion, Vila Foz Hotel & Spa blends historic charm with modern comfort with marble-lined rooms, top-notch amenities, and a breakfast that hits all the right notes, whether you’re after fresh pastries or something off the menu. Add in an exceptional staff who anticipate more than they ask, and you’ve got a stay that makes the whole place feel like home—just a much fancier version. And right across the street? The Atlantic Ocean, with a coastal walking path perfect for a morning stroll or clearing your head at golden hour.

  • MARCADO DE ALEGRIA

    At Mercado da Alegria, a weekly local artisan market in the Jardim do Passeio Alegre, the air smells like ripe tomatoes, fresh herbs, and sweet baked goods. Amid sharp local cheeses, handwoven crafts, and deep, smoky cured meats, a Pastel de Nata from an older baker who’s clearly been perfecting her craft for decades—crackling pastry, sweet creamy custard, just the right scorch. I ate a shameful amount of these across Portugal. This was the one.

  • COCKBURN'S

    Deep in the cool, cavernous cellars of Cockburn’s in Vila Nova de Gaia, the scent of oak and time hangs thick. Barrels stretch to the ceiling like a quiet army of aging port, each one holding a story steeped in patience and fire. This isn’t just a winery, it’s a cathedral of slow craftsmanship, capped by an excellent tasting of velvety ports and tawnies perfectly paired with decadent chocolate bites that tease out hidden notes in the wine, magically elevating the flavors as they unfold on your tongue. Don’t leave without picking up a bottle of their 20-year tawny—a souvenir that tastes like the memory of Porto, aged to perfection.

  • MIRADOURO DA VITÓRIA

    From Miradouro da Vitória, Porto unfolds in cinematic layers—the Ribeira’s rooftops, the steel arc of Dom Luís I Bridge, and the Porto Cathedral anchoring the skyline like a stone guardian. This is the city at its most poetic, seen from one of its quietest corners.

Amarante feels like a town dreamed up after a bottle of wine—lush, green, and draped over the banks of the Tâmega River like it’s been lounging there for centuries. Stone bridges, baroque churches, and the sort of calm that slows your step without asking. There’s a cannonball from Napoleon’s failed invasion still lodged in the church façade, a defiant souvenir of a town that doesn't flinch. And then there are the pastries—papos de anjo, soaked in syrup and sin, served by bakers who look like they’ve been making them since the French packed up and left. Magic dusted in sugar.

Confeitaria da Ponte sits right by the river, charmingly unassuming, but inside it’s a pastry temple that takes its sugar very seriously. Their São Gonçalos (pictured), named after the town’s beloved saint, are soft, golden confections that taste like tradition wrapped in indulgence. But don’t leave without one of their giant palmiers. They casually claim it’s the best in the world, which sounds like bluster until you bite in—shattering layers of caramelized puff pastry that somehow manage to be both crisp and chewy. I didn’t know there was a global competition for palmiers, but if there is, this one’s already won.

Just a few steps down the hill from Confeitaria da Ponte, there’s a modest little Frutaria that most tourists breeze past, which is a mistake. Inside, it’s a riot of color and smell—fresh greens that look like they were plucked that morning, tomatoes and peppers the size of a baby’s head, glossy and absurd in the best way. Tucked among the produce, you’ll find bags and bags of roasted nuts that are shockingly addictive. Keep walking downhill and you’ll stumble on a shop selling local cheeses so fresh and funky they could tell you the name of the cow. 

Douro Valley is where vineyards stretch like a never-ending patchwork quilt, clinging to hillsides with river bends that made time feel irrelevant. This is Portugal distilled to its most elemental: earth, sun, stone, and time. The Douro doesn’t care if you’re impressed—it’s been doing this long before you showed up.

In the Douro Valley, we stayed at Quinta de Cima, a private villa tucked between the vines, where two local women cooked us rustic, soulful Portuguese meals—outstanding bacalhau, a tomato, watermelon and feta salad I never saw coming, and chocolate mousse drizzled with orange-zested olive oil that tasted like a grandmother’s secret—all paired with wine grown just steps from the kitchen. It was the kind of warm, generous hospitality that stays with you long after you’ve left. A true treat in every sense.

At Quinta Nova, the wine tour winds through centuries-old cellars and sun-drenched vineyards, where the terroir speaks louder than any guide. It all leads to Terraçu’s Restaurant, where Chef André Carvalho serves an indulgent, multi-course lunch inside a warm, intimate space perched above the valley. Each dish arrives with a glass of perfectly paired wine, and through the windows, the Douro River glints below like a quiet witness to the feast. It’s the region on a plate with a view to match.

Nazaré is a mood, a reverberation of salt air, sweat, and surfboard wax. This once-sleepy Portuguese fishing village has transformed into a global pilgrimage site, thanks in no small part to pro big wave surfer Garrett McNamara who stared down a monstrous wall of water here and rewrote the boundaries of what a human being can ride. Since then, surfers from every corner of the globe have come chasing his wake, hoping to carve their names into a 100-foot wave. On the right day, the horizon isn’t just a view, it’s theater. Big wave season turns this perch into a coliseum, the Atlantic into a beast, and the surfers below into mad poets scribbling lines in water. Nazaré is adrenaline, mythology, and raw Atlantic power, crashing in endless cycles.

Restaurante A Celeste is no-frills, no-small-talk dining at its most unapologetic. Don’t expect smiles, and beware of surprise trays of food dropped on your table without warning—they're extras, not mistakes. But the payoff? Chef Celeste’s homey and fresh dishes that hit the spot. Go for the grilled sardines or bacalhau, served with buttery garlic potatoes drizzled in local olive oil, and migas—a rustic mix of bread, garlic, and greens that’s as comforting as it is classic. Don’t skip “the best arroz doce (rice pudding) in the world,” according to McNamara. Overall, it’s a get-in, get-fed, get-out kind of place, and sometimes that’s exactly what you need.

After lunch, hike up to the cliffside of the 16th century Forte de São Miguel Arcanjo to the Farol de Nazaré. Sure, it’s touristy—mostly full of people speaking everything but Portuguese holding selfie sticks, and surrounded by souvenir stands galore, but what can you do? This is the spot. The iconic view from the red lighthouse, where in big wave season, surf fans crowd the edge with cameras and long lenses waiting to catch a glimpse of history in motion. It’s part spectacle, part ritual, and when those waves roll in, all the noise fades.

Lisboa is a slow, smoldering love affair wrapped in the scent of grilled sardines and diesel fumes. You don’t come here to tick boxes or chase Instagram sunsets—though you'll get plenty. You come to get lost in the alleys of Alfama, to drink too much vinho verde while a Fado singer tears your soul in half, and to taste the melancholy that hangs in the Atlantic breeze like a hungover poet’s sigh. Lisboa is cracked tile and faded glory, an old friend who’s seen too much but still shows up smiling, offering another glass and a story you'll never forget.

  • ROSAMAR

    Our last supper in Portugal—and hands down the best. At Rosamar, Executive Chef Paco Omaña and his team deliver creamy oysters, a smoky, succulent Tiger Prawn dish, and the show-stealing Coconut Clams: Sesimbra clams in a rich coconut sauce with butter, herb oil, mint, roasted cashews, chili oil, dill, served with dreamy slices of charcoal sourdough bread to mop it all up. Bold, indulgent, unforgettable.

    Photo courtesy of Rosamar

  • THE VINTAGE HOTEL & SPA

    The Vintage Hotel & Spa nails the balance—stylish yet cozy, central yet calm. Its location makes it perfect for exploring on foot, with great restaurants and vibrant neighborhoods just around the corner. Our suite was spotless, the bed pure comfort, and the staff was friendly, attentive, and always a step ahead. After a day wandering Lisbon’s hills, it was the perfect place to land.

  • A CEVICHERIA

    At A Cevicheria, Chef Kiko Martins spins Peruvian flavors through a Portuguese lens, serving up bold, electric plates in a buzzing space. Under the watchful gaze of a giant octopus sculpture, diners share pisco cocktails and ceviche that snaps with citrus and sea—fresh, fearless, and anything but traditional.

  • PRAÇA DO COMÉRCIO

    Praça do Comércio was once the site of the royal palace before it was leveled by the devastating 1755 earthquake, it was rebuilt into this vast, stately square, framed by yellow Pombaline buildings and anchored by a statue of King José I on horseback. It’s where the old world met the sea, and where traders, travelers, and monarchs once stepped ashore. And no, that’s not the Golden Gate Bridge stretching in the distance—it’s the Ponte 25 de Abril, completed in 1966 and designed by the same American company behind San Francisco’s Bay Bridge. It spans the Tagus with the same red steel swagger, a reminder of Lisbon’s resilience and reach.

  • MARCADO DA RIBEIRA

    Mercado da Ribeira is a classic market—fresh local produce, gleaming fish, meats, and rows of smoky Portuguese chouriço. Just next door, the Time Out Market kicks it into high gear with 40+ stalls serving everything from gourmet bites to craft cocktails. Come hungry, leave converted.

  • WEAT

    Tucked into our jam-packed family itinerary, the cooking class at WEAT was something we almost skipped but it turned out to be one of the best, most fun, experiences of the trip. With Chef Bernardo Rodrigues leading the way, we learned to make the traditional bacalhau à brás, caldo verde soup, Algarve orange roll, and of course, the iconic pastéis de nata. What started as an obligation ended in full bellies, flour-dusted laughter, and a new respect for the craft of Portuguese home cooking.

  • FEIRA DA AVENIDA

    Feira da Avenida is the perfect open-air treasure hunt—local artisans and makers selling everything from breezy dresses to hand-painted ceramics, and cork-crafted goods. Portugal produces over 60% of the world’s cork, and it shows—cork here isn’t just practical, it’s personal, shaped into bags, wallets, and homewares that speak to centuries of tradition. We also loved the ceramic pieces by local artist Marietta Ezequiel, each one a colorful, hand-painted slice of Portugal to take home.

  • COPENHAGEN COFFEE LAB

    It feels almost wrong to recommend Copenhagen Coffee Lab in Lisbon but one morning I wandered in for an oat matcha (delicious), and then tried their cardamom bun… game over. Chewy, fluffy, and spiced to perfection. On our last day, I bought out the whole tray to hand out to my family on our way to the airport. Baker’s kiss! If that’s not a saying, it should be.

  • PAVILHÃO CHINÊS

    Pavilhão Chinês is part cocktail lounge, part museum of delightful madness. Walls are lined with vintage toy soldiers, model airplanes hung from a ceiling, and old-world oddities. To get in, ring the bell at the red door, and you’ll be ushered into this wonderland through dimly lit nooks and velvet-clad rooms, by a staff who look like they came with the bar—impeccably dressed, quietly theatrical, completely in sync with the place’s faded grandeur with just the right amount of mysterious.

  • CASTELO DE SÃO JORGE

    Castelo de São Jorge crowns Lisbon with centuries of history. Once a Moorish fortress, now it’s a quiet vantage point over the city. The tour’s worth every step, with ancient walls to climb, panoramic views to soak in, and a garden that invites lingering. Don’t miss the resident peacocks, strutting like they own the place. Honestly, they kind of do.

Sintra feels like it slipped out of a storybook and landed on a mountainside—lush, misty, and draped in old-world charm. The town winds up and around hills cloaked in green, with cobbled streets that lead past pastel villas and moss-covered walls. Wisteria spills down from balconies, scenting the air with a soft sweetness, and the whole place carries a quiet kind of magic. With its mix of natural beauty, romantic architecture, and a pace that invites wandering, Sintra was easily one of my favorite stops in Portugal.

At Palácio de Seteais, even the rain couldn’t dampen our picnic. Instead of the garden, we picnicked under a covered patio surrounded in greenery, with views that made the drizzle feel like part of the charm. The spread was nothing short of regal—tiny sandwiches layered with care, crisp salads, ripe fruits, buttery tarts both sweet and savory. The whole experience felt like slipping into a slower, more elegant century, adding brightness to a mostly cloudy day.

Palácio Nacional da Pena is a fever dream in stone with bold colors, dramatic towers, and a mishmash of Romanticism that somehow works perfectly perched high above Sintra. The surrounding park is just as surreal, cloaked in lush greenery and shaped by a unique micro-climate that had us soaked in heavy rain one moment, then basking in golden sun the next, as the clouds tore open and revealed a sweeping, fog-draped view of the valley below. Inside, the tour walks you through lavishly restored rooms, intricate tilework, and the eccentric vision of King Ferdinand II, who transformed a former monastery into this eclectic royal retreat. It’s a living mood ring of Portuguese history and weather.

Casa Piriquita is a pilgrimage. It’s been open since 1862 and it’s the birthplace of the Travesseiro, a recipe passed down through generations and still guarded like a crown jewel. This iconic pillow-shaped pastry lives up to its name. Delicate and fluffy layers of puff pastry cradle a warm, almond-and-egg cream filling that’s somehow rich and airy all at once. It’s not overly sweet, just perfectly balanced, with a melt-in-your-mouth texture that makes you stop mid-bite and reevaluate every pastry you’ve had before. The texture is impossibly delicate, the flavor deeply comforting. I’d never had anything like it, and honestly, I’m not sure I ever will again.

Photo courtesy of Casa Piriquita

Cascais was one of those stops that caught me off guard, in the best way. A beach town with cinematic ocean views where the rocky shoreline stretches endlessly, shifting with the light like a living postcard. I didn’t have nearly enough time here but I’ll be back. Kickback cliffside at Hotel Albatroz which overlooks the hotel’s private cove and offers cocktails with a front-row seat to the Atlantic. Just don’t get too distracted by the view because the ever-watchful seagulls will swoop in like unofficial cleanup crew, clearing any food off the table the second you step away.

WORDS + PHOTOGRAPHS BY JUNG KIM