Why participate in the Douro Bridges race

Na verdade, não era bem este o título que queria dar ao artigo. Pensava num título mais comprido, algo que comparasse uma prova num rio tão emblemático, numa cidade nortenha linda, com os pequenos prazeres da vida,  com aquilo que realmente faz sentido para estarmos em harmonia connosco próprios e com o mundo, nestes tempos tão conturbados. Algo do género: why participating in the Douro race and because of believing that everything will get better — and it will. But let's start from the beginning:

The dialogue

Porto is a city far from Lisbon, as everyone knows, and so all the preparation for this trip involved organizing how to get there, who could come along and at what time, where to sleep, which area to choose (closer to the race or to the city center), what to do before and after the race. Messages here, messages there, calls to book the bus, deciding on the hotel, choosing who to share a room with. People helping each other, trying their best to sort out these details together. 

The journey within and beyond ourselves

It was decided that Ana Rita and I would go early in the morning, to walk around, revisit the city, and see how it had changed during these years of tourist growth. We, who had left it with its decaying houses and its people so curious and genuine… had it now given in to… all the same gamour of the Ryanair-type cities? Curiosity was high. Corn would arrive in the middle of the afternoon, Bibiana only at the end of the day, and Mayra the following day.

On the way, we recalled races, friends, historical and political events; we tried to guess, as if through a crystal ball, what would happen in the coming years. I don’t think we stopped talking for even a minute, trying to solve the world’s problems inside the FlixBus. We didn’t manage, of course, but we arrived in Porto in no time. In fact, our journey ended in Gaia, more precisely in Afurada.

The City

I’ve always felt that Porto was not really a city, but rather a collection of villages. Afurada is a typical example of that. A fishing village, where you can still find women washing clothes by hand and hanging them out to dry on large lines by the riverside. All of this surrounded by some charming restaurants, others more rustic, and still others truly authentic, frequented by fishermen and varinas from Porto who have never changed.
A mixture that coexists well and blends together, showing all the facets of the city: chicken pastel de nata with Cálem Port wine. A microcosm of contradictions and beauty, between the old and the future, between tradition and what is yet to come.

Youth and music

Corn came to pick us up in Afurada. In the car were some of his friends: a local from Porto and a woman from the Algarve who now lives in Porto. Two young people and deep connoisseurs of everything the city has to offer — including, of course, the renowned francesinha. Thank God Bibiana managed to arrive in time to eat with us.
Perante um prato desses e uns finos, a conversa fluiu entre risadas, anedotas, tios alternativos e multifacetados, amores e desamores, anéis de casamento feitos de cordéis, um passado romanescamente reconstruído e um presente feito de encontros semi-casuais.
Tinha visto que no Porto ia haver um mega evento de samba, e a prenda maior foi que era mesmo ao lado de casa. Fui lá encher-me dessa energia boa que só os povos latinos sabem transmitir.
In short: laughter is universal, and music brings people together.

The race

We walked to the race; the hotel was right next door. Luckily — because the day before we had covered many kilometers and our legs were already sore. The frenzy before the start, people getting ready, putting on their suits, anxiously waiting for the boat that would take them to Ribeira, the starting point.
Our companion Mayra was supposed to arrive at the very last minute, but a series of unforeseen events ended up delaying her trip, and we were anxious for her to make it in time. Bibiana tried everything, but in the end, she couldn’t participate.
The boat departed, and the riverbanks seemed even more beautiful with the silvery light reflecting on the Douro: churches and houses turned into impressionist dots in a living painting.
We docked. There were already swimmers on the right ramp, with their green caps and designs that captured the soul of the city. The current didn’t seem strong, even though the Douro is famous for it. Since we arrived later, we stayed on the left ramp, with the stunning view of the Dom Luís Bridge.
The deep, long signal of the start sounded: arms, legs, waves caused by kicks — a vortex of chaos that swallowed me and carried me to the quay, along with a few other swimmers. When I realized, I was clinging to a buoy while the current wouldn’t let me move forward.
Ana Rita helped me, giving me her hand and pulling me closer to the corner of the quay, from which we could get back into the race. That start was brutal: a lot of panic and the fear that it could happen again at another point in the river where we were heading. I was already far behind the others, but that didn’t matter — the important thing was that my heart returned to a normal rhythm.
hat image of chaos stayed in my mind, along with the thought that the current could push me under the cruise ships nearby. It didn’t happen. The current was strong, but it carried us forward.
From the middle of the water, I retraced the entire route we had taken the day before. It felt like a lifetime ago: there we had taken photos, there we met fishermen, there were the tourist buses, and there the socks, for the hundredth time, had slipped under my foot. We passed under the Arrábida Bridge, another landmark in our crossing.
And in an instant, we were already at the finish. With a little sprint (from me 😊), I made it. Mayra, a top swimmer, became a top photographer and captured a beautiful report of all of us, and with her, we celebrated the arrivals of everyone from Swim4Fun.
Everything worked out: even what seemed bad in the moment ultimately helped everything end well. Deep down, you need resilience, focus, and a goal that unites us.

Happiness

As the saying goes: goal achieved.
Prova concluída, um almoço num restaurante de peixe da Afurada, um café no bar das peixeiras a ler o jornal, e nós estendidas ao sol no jardim do Palácio de São Roque, a olhar para as árvores, deitadas na relva. Passeámos por aqueles labirintos incríveis do jardim, até que umas crianças nos mostraram alegres o caminho da saída.
Those children, in truth, should have been us.

Chiara Bedini