You never know the corner that is changing you life

Around ten years ago, on spur of moment, some friens an I decided to take a short weekend trip; we packed even before knowing where to go, took a map and choose a city close to our little town in northwestern Spain.
Oporto.
Today, that name echoes in my mind; that friday it was just wine and bridges.
We arrived at the hotel late in the evening; it was in a desserted street full of mansions, nothing to be remebered, I thought. The receptionist greeted us with Port wine, my first time. I can still recall the taste of it, the strong flavour, the exquisit uniqueness.
In the morning we strolled aimlessly, down that street, crossed what I thought it was the biggest roundabout on Earth and arrived to a park, a kind of botanic garden; we were walking its winding paths until we found what it seemed like a crenel, and then I saw THE river, THAT river; the sun was kissing the buildings, reflecting on the water. It took my breath away, that very feeling you have when you meet someone for the first time and passion just rushes. There I tought I should live there someday.
After finding some little stears, we went down to the river, walked around, eat, drink; the usuals in a city you are visiting. The only difference this time was that I was completely falling in love, smitten. Each house, café, tree, street(oh, those streets!) I saw made me wanted to know every stone that built that city.
The morning after I was confused, I didn't know if what I
saw was even real, but I was definitely in love.
After breakfast we pop into a street full of art galleries, the walk into a couple of churches and saw what it seemed like the most beautiful book shop in the world, and then, back to THE river to see the sunset in a tiny cafe hidden between houses. On the way to the hotel we stopped to have a beer in a square with a fountain, some chesnut trees and a phone booth. It was heaven. I left the city, but my head stayed.
Three years after that I was given the opportunity to live there, I didn't consider it for more than one second. All those things I have mention, started having a name; Boavista, Palácio de Cristal, Ribeira, Sé, Aliados, Batalha, Santa Catarina, Bolhão, Miragaia, Massarelos, Foz, Miguel Bombarda...
That year seemed too short, and, in the most reckless impulse I have ever had, I bought a house in the city; at 24, almost torn down. You know where is it? In the square with the fountain where I had a beer.
The best thing I have ever done.