Want hipness and history? Braga is for you
This ancient Portuguese city with a young population combines old and new to create a cultural cocktail – and it’s an ideal mix for a mini break, says Sarah Baxter
As sunset faded to dusk on the Rua de Nossa Senora do Leite, I realised I had missed this: sitting outside a bar on a handsome old street, with no sleeves and a cheap glass of wine, watching a world not immediately familiar glide by.
As my partner and I sat and sipped, three university students arrived wearing full Portuguese traje academico: their tricorne hats jaunty; their long black capes twirling. A flat-capped gent stooped beneath a small shrine to light his cigarette from a votive candle. A couple passed by, walking a cat on an electric-pink lead. Dusk became dark. We had another glass. Ah, the idle delights of the European city break.
Braga, Portugal’s third-largest city, in the northern Minho region, provided a pleasing ease back into continental flâneuring – and an on-trend one, too. European Best Destinations, an independent organisation that promotes tourism in Europe, asked 600,000 travellers from 192 countries where they would most like to travel in Europe in 2021 (albeit from a shortlist of 20) when it was safe to do so. Braga, with more than 100,000 votes, took top spot. It seems Braga is having a mini-moment.
José Santos, director of Porta Nova Collection House, agreed. “We were seeing an increase in tourism before Covid,” he told us, “and that has encouraged people to renovate old buildings.” Porta Nova Collection House is a prime example, comprising three formerly dilapidated apartments that have been sensitively and artfully restored into one neat boutique hotel. It opened in summer 2019, so hasn’t had the smoothest start… but it scooped the 2020 VisitBraga award for Urban Intervention.
“All the rooms are different, and combine old and new,” Santos explained. For example, those on the second floor have retained what he called their
namoradeira, “the ‘flirting windows’ where girls would sit and boys on the street below would try to attract their attention”. Our room was on the third floor, with a wrap-around balcony – perfect for watching the comings and goings through the city’s Arco da Porta Nova gate.
Braga itself is a combination of old and new. Founded by the Romans as Bracara Augusta, it is the oldest city in Portugal, and as the seat of Portuguese archbishops, it is also the country’s religious capital. Yet thanks to its thriving university, it has one of the youngest populations in Europe. That means you get serious history, palpable energy and a good helping of hip-looking bars.
We set out to find all of the above, strolling from the hotel deeper into the city’s historic centre. We passed stores full of ecclesiastical paraphernalia and artisan chocolate, and paused for coffee at the art-deco Café A Brasileira, where locals, tourists and political activists have gathered since 1907. We also browsed stalls full of fruit, veg and
bacalhau – dried and salted cod – inside the Mercado Municipal. The market, originally built in the 1950s, was renovated in 2020; now, a modern roof of sweeping timber and glass covers both the fresh produce and a new plastic-free food court where you can buy sucklingpig sandwiches and frigideiras – Braga’s traditional round, minced veal-filled pastries.
It all looked delicious, though we decided to head to the source instead, lunching across town at Frigideiras do Cantinho, where the meat pastries have been made since 1796: they came wrapped in paper and string, which we tore open immediately, stuffing our faces in the square outside, our crumbs feeding the pigeons. Just around the corner, we bought artisan gelato from Pappa’lab, where local Marta Rito Bezerra hand-makes unusual ice creams using fresh, seasonal ingredients – the goat’s cheese and pumpkin was so delicious I had to order it twice.
When we weren’t eating, we were admiring the baroque façades. The city is a showcase for this ornate style, much of it – including the Town Hall and the theatrical, azulejo-tiled Palacio do Raio – the work of architect André Soares, born in Braga in 1720. My favourite was Casa Rolao, built by Soares for a wealthy merchant and now housing a bookshop, café and other arty outlets – even if you have no intention of buying, it’s worth taking the grand staircase to the top.
Many of the city’s most impressive buildings are churches, and visiting requires planning: as well as holding masses that you don’t want to disturb, they close over lunch. However, it was a wedding that delayed our visit to the Se de Braga – Portugal’s oldest cathedral – and it was the most ostentatious of nuptials, with a brass band and majorettes forming a processional below the twin bell towers, a throng of peach bridesmaids and a bride with a trail to rival that of Princess Di. Bystanders hung out of windows to watch. We assumed it must be some Portuguese celebrity, but no. “I used to be a wedding planner,” Santos told us later back at the hotel. “Anyone can get married there.”
When we did get inside the cathedral, it was worth the wait. The interior, especially the painted, gilded ceiling of the choir, was fit for a royal wedding. Sadly the Chapel of the Kings, with its naturally mummified archbishop, was closed, but the museum was open. Not that anyone else seemed to have noticed: we had the place to ourselves for a private viewing of centuries-old reliquaries, monstrances, pontifical vestments and episcopal sandals.
While the Se de Braga is splendid, you can’t really visit Braga without making the trip to Bom Jesus do Monte, a flamboyant basilica that cascades down a hillside just outside the city, and which gained Unesco status in 2019. Founded as a pilgrimage centre in the late 15th century, it was heavily embellished in the 18th, with that man Soares involved again. And it’s not just a church but a whole pleasure complex, complete with grottoes, boating lakes, a funicular and acres of parkland.
I liked the staircase best: 500 steps from the tree-lined bottom to the symmetrically zig-zagging upper flight, where fantastical fountains squirt water from carved eyes, ears and noses. It’s said to symbolise the Aristotelian belief that intellect is not reached without passing through the senses. It also, it seemed, made an excellent challenge for runs and rides: as we hiked up, several joggers puffed past while a daring mountain-biker came pelting down – a new breed of pilgrims for this old/young city. i j Stall order: buy ‘frigideiras’ pastries at the Mercado