I have lost count the times I was here. As I've lost count the times I've marveled at this city, gray and at the same time full of light.

I've lost count of the times I walked by, the times I was enchanted by the Clérigos and their panoramic view, that I ran through Avenida dos Aliados or Rua de St.ª Catarina, always so busy. And I have lost count the times I fell in love with the Douro, whether on a walk in the Ribeira or just sitting watching it in the company of a coffee.

But on every return there is a new discovery. Porto has these things: to make us fall in love with the same views over and over, and in each of them, to notice something new, in a new perspective. And then there are the people. People who are so warm, and the food, which warms us even on cold and rainy days. And there's the wine that goes well with this Portuguese food.

Porto is a cosmopolitan and yet so traditional city. It is to appreciate the view of the city from a belvedere in the heart of the city or is to see it from the neighboring Vila Nova de Gaia, be it the Serra do Pilar or the wonderful terrace of the hotel The Yeatman. It's to enter into the old and so current Livraria Lello and want all the books – plus, it's to specifically want that library so magical. It's to visit the imposing Cathedral of Porto and, by the way, appreciate the tiles of the Station of S. Bento. It's to go to a concert in the futuristic Casa da Música and drive along the enormous Avenida da Boavista until arriving at Foz, at the beach and our sea, only to return to the center of the city and try to decorate the name of all the bridges that cross the Douro.

It is all this and much more because, as I said, every time you visit Porto there is something new (a rooftop perfect for summer evenings, a restaurant, a bar), but the feeling is just one: love. A love called Porto.