A Train Station's Famous Tiles Sit on Top of a Demolished Convent

The 20,000 azulejo tiles that make São Bento one of the world's great public interiors cover a hall that didn't exist until a much older building was torn down to make room for it. The site was originally the Convent of São Bento de Ave Maria, founded on royal order in 1518, which survived a fire in 1783, a nineteenth-century decree abolishing Portugal's religious orders, and slow decay before finally being demolished in 1892 after its last resident nun had died. The station that replaced it wasn't finished until 1916, its tile murals depicting historic battles and royal processions painted onto walls standing exactly where centuries of monastic life had quietly played out before anyone thought to put a railway there.

Port wine exists because England and France couldn't stop fighting. After decades of on-and-off war beginning in 1688 cut English drinkers off from their usual Bordeaux, merchants turned to Portugal instead and began shipping wine out of Porto. The wine didn't survive the rough sea crossing well, so merchants started adding brandy to stabilize it for the voyage — and discovered, more or less by accident, that the stronger, sweeter result tasted better to English buyers than the original wine ever had. That accidental fix, refined in the cellars now lining the Gaia hillside across the river, became an entirely new category of wine that didn't exist a generation earlier.