by Pádraic Gilligan, co-founder, SoolNua

Standing high on the upper level of the bridge and looking west towards the ocean, the urban scene below is breathtaking.

Porto clings improbably to the steep inclines on either side of the Douro River, the Ribeira side and the Gaia side of this pulsating city now linked by six bridges, including this one, the iconic Ponte de Ferro or Ponte Dom Luís I.

The Ribeira side is an intriguingly bewildering maze of twisting alleyways and ancient buildings, some residential, some commercial. You can tell which are which by the washing that hangs above you or the snippets of conversation that drift down as you pass beneath open windows.

The Gaia side is stacked and terraced too, the storied names of seventeenth- and eighteenth-century British trading families — Taylor’s, Cockburn’s, Graham’s, Sandeman and others — visible atop the warehouse buildings across the skyline, reminders of how this city got its name. Or was it the brandy-fortified wine that took its name from the city?

Wordsworth’s Upon Westminster Bridge (1807) came to mind, the delicious irony of this nature-loving poet finding beauty and calm in “towers, domes, theatres and temples”:

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning …

But I had baser thoughts too, far more aligned to filthy lucre, as I considered how cities and urban locations remain relatively low in the consideration set for buyers of incentive travel experiences, a Covid legacy that has persisted, despite the global recovery.

When incentive travel rebounded after Covid, buyers understandably gravitated towards all-inclusive resorts, motivated by duty of care and the convenience of keeping everyone together in a safe, controlled environment. It made perfect sense — and perfect cents.

Yet with the fears of Covid long abated, resorts continue to index high, now for budget rather than health reasons. Cities and urban locations have fallen in demand and, with that, I think, we’ve seen a certain dumbing down, a sanitising, a loss of the texture that once defined incentive travel.

When programmes are confined to gated resorts, the experience becomes safe, predictable, and largely interchangeable. The pulse of place is replaced by a controlled environment that really could be anywhere: the same Piña Colada, the same Despacito, the same carefully curated sunsets.

In losing the city, we lose the serendipity that comes from stepping into the unknown — the chance encounter in a side-street café, the overheard conversation that sparks an idea, the confrontation with history and culture that leaves a mark. Incentive travel at its best has always been about transformation, not transaction, and cities, with all their layered complexity, remain its most potent setting.

But that’s not to dismiss the pull of sun, sand, and sea. There’s real value in the restorative power of warmth and light, in the easy camaraderie that comes from shared downtime, and in the simple joy of beauty without agenda.

Those programmes certainly have their place: they reward, they soothe, they allow teams to exhale. But they shouldn’t define the category. The richest incentive portfolios balance relaxation with stimulation, contemplation with discovery. Cities may not offer turquoise waters, but they give back something rarer — perspective, energy, and a tangible sense of connection to the wider world.

Cities, after all, are where the true human story unfolds. Their pulse and power come from constant movement, the friction of difference, the hum of exchange. Each one bears the sediment of its own past, layer upon layer of legacy: buildings raised and repurposed, languages mingled, ideas traded across time. They hold within them the full register of human experience, commerce and art, faith and dissent, privilege and poverty, all side by side.

You feel it in the cobble stoned streets, the railings and street lights, the river walls.

That’s what I feel in Porto.

And that’s what’s lost when incentive travel is reduced to a lounger, a swim-up bar and a 7pm reservation at the Italian / Mexican / SoCal / French restaurant. The urban experience challenges, surprises, deepens; it invites connection, curiosity, a kind of growth that no curated, sanitised resort can deliver. In the end, the true incentive lies not in escape from the world, but in rediscovering it, one city at a time.

Thanks, Porto, for reminding me of that.

Note: I was in Porto for a gathering of the Visit Brussels Customer Advisory Board (and friends) ahead of ICCA’s Annual Assembly, which unfolded across this beautiful city. ICCA deserves real kudos for the imaginative way it used the whole of Porto as its meeting space, taking us beyond the walls of the convention centre and into the living fabric of the city itself — a truly creative model for what conferences can be.