Words by Sarah Jappy
Want to feel alive? Take a dip in the Atlantic Ocean. “I’m a reborn prawn!” I shriek to my boyfriend, as we emerge pink-skinned and goose-pimpled following an icy plunge in the waters at Praia de Lavadores beach in Gaia, south of Porto. My internal organs feel like they’re defrosting: it’s a full-body reboot that Wim Hof would approve of. And it’s within easy reach of your Porto boutique basecamp…
We’re staying at M.Ou.Co.: the city’s coolest new hotel, located in the characterful, creative Bonfim district. We visited Porto once before, in a damp and grey January, spending a large chunk of time exploring the UNESCO-listed historic city centre, drinking fizzy vinho verde and sampling custardy confections in the excellent (and affordable) restaurants and bakeries. But this time, the sun is blazing and the ocean calls.
Rewind. When we first arrived in Porto, the throb of heat outside the airport took us by surprise. “I’m boiling,” my boyfriend gasps as we sit for lunch in a local Angolan restaurant near M.Ou.Co. (we’re two hours early for check-in, and fried chicken, tomato rice and cold drinks make perfect sense). Delicious food and some frosty beers do the trick, and a couple of hours later we return to M.Ou.Co.’s super-cool façade, emblazoned with the hotel’s motto: ‘Stay. Listen. Play.’. Reflecting its former life as a warehouse, the hotel’s honey-coloured architecture feels industrial and starkly beautiful, softened by blooming lavender and spiky succulents planted in the little gardens that fringe the steps spilling down to the entrance.
Inside M.Ou.Co., two ridiculously cool concierges in normcore beige uniforms, respectively adorned with piercings and blonde dreads, welcome us. They explain that this is a ‘music hotel’ (the stash of vinyls behind them collaborate the statement) and reveal that we have a turntable in our room. Stylish mid-century furniture is dotted around the reception and informal bar area. We sip hibiscus iced tea from a help-yourself jug and wander into the wood-panelled music library, where coffee-table tomes, vinyls, Persian rugs, leather armchairs and wooden boxes of Port signal cosy nights ‘in’. A little sign explains you can borrow up to five books and three records at a time, so we select a few treasures, swap them for the real thing at reception and head upstairs in the burnished brass lift.
The hotel smells amazing: herby, figgy and fresh. Corridors are ambiently lit with sensor lights that melt into soft pools of light as we walk by. Cute little graphics and artfully calligraphed numbers mark walls and doors. There’s a deliberate absence of paint throughout, natural materials a-go-go and sky views at every turn. The visual thrills continue in our ‘Voyage Voyage’ room: a sleek concrete space with an Iggy Pop-inspired artwork by artist Xan_Xan, whose works decorate each room. (M.Ou.Co. collaborates with an atelier in Porto called COISA to produce each piece, which guests can purchase from reception.)
Our room also has a tempting bed, the aforementioned vinyl player with a stash of records, and a neat, concrete bathroom with a rain shower and orange-scented Castelbel bath products. Rooms have been deliberately designed to feature up to three colours only, making for a calming, minimal feel. Tech flourishes include a GuestU Phone, professional sound bar system, sound amplifier with headphones, Chromecast and a USB charger. Sonic satisfaction: guaranteed.
It’s hard to peel ourselves away from the cool embrace of our firm bed but the swimming pool beckons. Yes, a city swimming pool! It’s more of a dunking pool, but it’s very welcome, its turquoise waters mirroring the cerulean, cloudless blue of the sky. We laze around idly like drunken seals, soaking up the rooftop city views, then flop onto sun loungers, soundtracked by the languid murmur of French chit-chat from fellow guests.
That night, we head down to the bar, a serene space with a sun-kissed outdoor area and a shady patio with colour-pop Acapulco chairs. Inside, there’s more highly desirable furniture (including two butterscotch-leather armchair beauties) and plenty of cosy corners for #DigitalNomads. We order cocktails and settle in for a night of edible debauchery ahead.
The hotel doesn’t disappoint. Downstairs in the spacious basement restaurant, a flawless soundtrack of tunes sets the mood; no awkward silences here. An amuse-bouche of sardines arrives with mango sauce and tapenade. Codfish carpaccio is dressed with heritage tomatoes and more moss-green, earthy tapenade. Heaped, stripy-shelled clams come swimming in a golden broth of garlicky wine and parsley, with a scattering of whisper-thin fried bread, delicately crunchy and golden. Breaded octopus arrives in two fist-sized meaty tendrils, and another dish of tomato rice (when in Porto…) with a silky poached egg. Somehow there’s room for not one but two desserts: apple tart with cinnamon dusting and nougat ice-cream, and chocolate soufflé in a bowl slicked with rich, nubby peanut butter, topped with a milky scoop of coconut ice-cream. Everything is served on whimsical wabi-sabi ceramics. The hotel has its own live music venue by the restaurant and there’s a heavy metal night on – but bed proves too tempting…
Of course we include Portuguese doughnuts in our breakfast feast the following morning. After all, the beach is on the horizon. During our stay, we explore a trio of local sand-and-ocean spots: Leça da Palmeira, Foz and Gaia. At Leça, we first feel the bite of the frigid Atlantic, and warm up with Francesinha lunch afterwards. For those new to Francesinha, it’s a proudly-Porto creation. Picture a double-decker sandwich featuring lofty layers of sausage and beef steak, drenched in melted cheese and a spicy tomato gravy, topped with an egg and (preferably) a tiny paper Portuguese flag. If it sounds diabolical, that’s because it is: diabolically good.
Porto’s beachy area of Foz is worth a visit for its silky sands and bougie boutiques – which make a sudden shift in weather, including a startling 10-degree temperature drop, more than bearable (as does coffee and caramelised croissant cake at Mademoiselle bakery). But it’s Gaia that woos us with the most oceanic abandon, partly thanks to its beautiful stretch of sand; partly thanks to the sweet, egg-yolk-yellow croissants with their custardy centre served at O Rei dos Croissants.
It’s not all golden-sugar sands and sugary confections, though. Whilst in the city, we browse art and enjoy the lofty treetop walk at the brilliant Serralves gallery and gardens. We sip Porto tonics in the pretty courtyard at Dona Mira bar near M.Ou.Co. (owned by two former musicians from Brazil), and have a wonderful meal at Tia Tia, run by a champion couple with a love of art, food and natural wine. Wife Cátia is in charge of the warm welcomes, the vinyl soundtracks (the selection rivals even M.Ou.Co.’s stash), the artworks, many of which are her own, and charming the guests. Her husband, Tiago, cooks up a storm in the kitchen, wooing with a compact daily menu starring dishes such as heritage tomato salad with brioche; mackerel with almond cream, apple and radishes; and line-caught hake with padron peppers and golden cherries. A pudding of banana mousse with nutty granola and shavings of S. Jorge cheese completes our indulgence.
The next day, we learn that on-loan guitars are available at reception. Five minutes later, my boyfriend is butchering mastering Fleetwood Mac’s classic hit, Never Going Back Again, currently the sole number in his repertoire. The impromptu jam session pauses for lunch at the hotel bar, starring M.Ou.Co.’s masterful Caesar salad and cuttlefish wasabi tempura, before we return to Gaia. Our last day unfurls here in a languid blur of sun and sea. A Calpol-coloured sunset ushers in the evening, and we savour one last supper at beachfront Mar-Us, feasting on garlic prawns the size of golf balls, pineapple-and-tomato salad, juicy steak and sliver-thin fries.
Our ears have been serenaded. Our tummies have been seduced. For the perfect Porto adventure, meet M.Ou.Co. – and the Atlantic Ocean.
For more Atlantic musings, check out our Portugal magazine.
