But even on a day that marks the oldest of traditions the new and the hip is always lurking just around the corner. That's Porto, an effortless blend of history and hashtag, as smooth as a 30 year old tawny Port and as edgy as the political satire dripping off the street artist's brush.
Look Dad, no stalls. I can drive a manual with one hand, what's your problem?
Daddy, you said you wanted to immerse me in other cultures. You do know European kids have their first glass of sangria by 18 months...
Hate to break it to you folks, but the fact we rolled a stroller up here onto the battlements suggests your defenses aren't quite as impenetrable as you make out. At least you can admire your five star TripAdvisor ranking while you wait for the tower to fall.
The next time you manage a photo without the baby the 2017 Port batch will be a 15 year old vintage.
Only 2,786 stairs to go to get to the river. This could take as long as a blog update.
No wonder the Portuguese passed on Columbus' grand plans. Who needs a New World when you've got views like this from your front porch?
How is it possible a bridge built in 1881 is more impressive than anything New York-New Jersey has managed to construct since? It seems getting barrels of Port across the river is a powerful incentive.
Just like the rest of Porto the old and new blend seamlessly: a gondola connects directly to the bridge to whisk you effortlessly down to the Port aging caves on the far bank of the river.
So Daddy, is your Port tasting as good as my organic quinoa pouch tasting?
The way most wine tastings end: someone struggling to walk the line.
Ready to roll out for the New World? Hope you upgraded to the extra-legroom lifeboat row.
If this is what bankruptcy looks like, sign me up. Bailouts pair nicely with sangria.
So Ry Ry, what does a PIIG say? Nothing, he's too busy gorging himself at Draghi's free money trough.
Daddy, what's a blog? It's like your dinner, something that never seems to get finished.