The Daily Diary of a Wandering Restaurateur
When in Rome ...
Half of the original plan while we were here was to take a day and drive 60 miles up the Duoro valley as far as the
vinyards that produce the grapes and make the wine that eventually becomes port. We'd have preferred a boat cruise and
tour up the river but we were told those stop running in November. With time lost to car and baggage issues, we chose
Option 2 and spent the day walking around across the river where the port wine is aged. I couldn't rationalize leaving
Porto without at least sampling some of its most famous product at the source!
Just across the river from Porto, the town of Vila Nova de Gaia is where much of the world's port comes to mature. Port
wine grapes are grown, and a young port is produced, about 60 miles up the river in the Duoro Valley. After sitting for a
winter in silos, the wine is shipped downstream to Vila Nova de Gaia to age for years in lodges on this cool north-facing
bank of the Duoro. Eighteen companies run these lodges, holding down the port fort and offering tours and tastings.
From our apartment, the easiest way to get across the river was to walk across the upper level of the bridge (with trains streaming by just feet away!) and take the gondola down to the Gaia riverfront. All in all, a very civilized way to travel! The young port is brought downriver in casks loaded onto small traditional boats called rabelos which many companies leave moored along the waterfront, most likely as floating ads.
From Gaia, the view across to Porto proper is the thing of postcards. Very, very long postcards.
We wandered along for awhile but given our characteristically late start, we were starving by
2pm and decided to tuck into a restaurant for some Portuguese fare. Most of their tables were outside and while it was
shirtsleeve weather in the sun, the shady north side of the river was quite cool so we opted for an indoor table. At that
time of day at this time of year, that was no problem. We were served by Jessie, a transplanted Brit who moved to Porto
about nine years ago in search of more than a month of sunshine. Very knowledgeable and, of course, spoke impeccable
English.
After lunch, Margene wasn't up for a wine tour but I thought I'd give it a go. However, when I discovered they wanted ten
euros for the bare bones tour, i decided this was not the day to leave the love of my life sitting alone outside for half
an hour. Yes, it was an opportunity missed, but we always travel with the belief there will be a next time.
To get home we walked across the lower level of the bridge, took the funicular up to the top and went back to the upper
bridge deck to watch the sun set. It seemed like an appropriately ceremonial way to end our time in Porto. Tomorrow morning
we head south so there's lots of organizing and packing to do tonight ... if we have the energy!
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