To Porto and the Douro Valley
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Leaving Lisbon and crossing the 25th April Bridge we hit the toll roads for the first time this year. We were headed up toward a beach spot just south of Nazaré. On the way, we stopped at the surf town of Peniche for the afternoon to try and regroup a bit after a long few days in the city and the incessant wind and rain that was dragging us down a bit. Ellen went for a long walk around the peninsula whilst I stayed for a nap and to do some more Day Skipper theory training.
By mid afternoon, the sun had actually come out! I drove round to collect Ellen and we stopped to watch the surf lessons on the beach for a few minutes. Enthused by the sun and surf we decided to book a lesson for next morning up in Nazaré. But without looking at the weather first.
We hit the road again and found the lovely spot we had been aiming for right on the beach front in a secluded little hamlet. But it was full of cars and campers. Whilst we sat waiting to find a spot the owner of the small beach cafe came up to the van said to stay as most people would be gone in an hour, no police check and we would be very welcome. Obviously there was the underlying incentive of our custom at her cafe, but it was the first friendly welcome we’d had. Which would be in stark contrast to the next morning…
That evening as the cars started to clear, we decided to take advantage of the clearer skies and dramatic sunset to take a walk out onto the beach. Returning to the van for dinner and a gin sat on a bench watching the sunset.
Next day we were up early in the wind and rain and got ourselves half an hour north to Nazaré. We got down to the waterfront and in absence of any signs restricting our parking, we found a spot and sat summoning the drive to go surfing. We eventually got ourselves out and no sooner had we climbed out of the van and paid when two local men stopped in their small van and had a go at us for parking there despite having paid and no signs to the contrary. This wound me up no end and we had to cancel our lesson in the end as we had nowhere else to park in town.
After a regroup and rethink in a petrol station outside of town we decided to find a cliff top to park up for the afternoon.
The views across the water were amazing, and the waves were pretty big, although not quite the world record waves that Nazaré is famous for. We decided to stay for the night, although we do wish we’d moved further back. The driving wind and rain of the coming storm woke us at 4am and we struggled to get back to sleep.
The next day after a rocky night’s sleep, we set off on the long drive to Porto on the toll roads. Taking a small detour about halfway for 30 minutes to dump and fill the van, eventually made it to a park up in the outskirts of Porto by early afternoon.
The weather was still patchy but we had made it in good time. So, jumping straight into an uber and headed to Taylor’s wine cellar in the Vila Nova de Gaia.
The first thing we noticed was how much more twisty it was here in the cultural district than in Lisbon. Second was how the pristinely kept Taylor’s wine cellars suddenly appeared amongst the winding streets. We didn’t spend long looking around, instead promptly got inside to avoid the next patch of rain coming over.
We do recommend the tour here as it’s well worth the money. It’s €25 each for a audio guide around the large cellars and museum areas. This took us a good hour and a half. This is then followed by three generous port tastings in their gorgeous indoor and/or outdoor restaurant area (weather dependant)
I have to say, it was interesting to see this set up. What do I mean by that? Well, the way it mainly works here in Porto is the way it used to work in the 1700’s in France before the French monarchy kicked out the British merchants. Those British merchants then, in search of a way to keep the wine flowing back home, turned to their oldest Ally, Portugal. The merchants would search the Douro for the best vineyards, the harvests would then be sent down river to be aged in the more favourable conditions in the city. Hence the vast number of cellars from names such as Taylor’s, Graham’s, Kopke etc. than cram themselves onto the southern bank of the Duoro in Porto.
This separation of vineyard and merchants we had learned about in Bordeaux at the wine museum, which was built in one of these smaller cellars that once belonged to an Irish Merchant. Here in Porto, it never died out it would seem. One wonders what Bordeaux would look like had it continued there rather than the British having to move to Portugal.
After Taylor’s, we wandered down through the cultural centre (which was pretty empty) to the waterfront. As we passed between the last two buildings to the front, we were greeted with the view across the Duoro of Porto in all its glory. We started to fall in love with the city immediately.
We walked up the front and across the famous two platformed iron bridge. After a quick cafe stop we did a bit of research on Time Out for somewhere for dinner. It turned out that the second suggested restaurant, Adega São Nicolau, just so happened to be diagonally opposite where we were sat and had not long started serving. Which was handy, as Time Out said this place regularly has queues!
We headed over and happily we managed to get a table outside, despite the low temperatures. Time Out was spot on, the food here was fantastic. We actually both agreed it’s probably the best food we had eaten in Portugal.
As the night went on our German table neighbours left and two Scottish ladies took their place. We got to chatting with them about their travels and plans and then discovered something unbelievable. They lived near my Aunts and Cousins! A small world indeed!
Realising that the queue had indeed begun to form up in the streets around the restaurant, we decided we had best free up our table. We wandered up into town further and fell fully in love with the place. Quiet, calm and the street musicians performing for the love of it and not just for the cash from tourists. That may sound like a stupid thing to say. Obviously they are playing for cash from Tourists, but there was real passion in their performance. Something as a musician myself I can relate to and find myself drawn to.
Eventually we wound up to the train station with its beautiful wall tiles depicting stories in Portugal’s history. It was then round the side of the station to Porto’s Time out market and the wine bar for a night cap before walking back along upper level of bridge. Fighting vertigo, we got this new perspective of this beautiful city at night. However, as we have found most places in Portugal, this is a city of two halves. From up here you can see what is behind those iconic building facades along the waterfront and down those twisty streets.
Many of these facades are simply that. Facades. The building behind is either totally abandoned, or worse, completely destroyed or crumbling. The money is clearly on the south bank with the wine cellars here. The same could be seen earlier right in the centre near the station. Whole four/five story narrow apartment buildings completely abandoned. This harks back to the slums we saw in Faro. The housing crisis and wealth gap here is horrendous for the locals. Couple with that, an archaic inheritance law where everything is split equally. Then you end up with children inheriting these buildings, fighting over them and then they’re just left to rot.
It’s a shame, and I feel it’s only right to show both sides.
The next day Ellen had meetings so I chilled for a bit and did some runs to the supermarket next door. Then after the storms passed I decided to do an early laundry run. Only to get there and realise it was cash only and I’d left my wallet behind. So, a muggy walk back to get cash to get a wash on and then a Coffee at nearby local cafe whilst I waited.
After it was done, I bought some bits for lunch for us both but me being the fool I am, decided to eat a bit of tortilla we had left from last shop. Bad move, that was longer ago than I realised. I ended up… not very well for a good few hours as my body rejected it when I got up to leave for a walk…
Thankfully it was fleeting and a few hours later we were able to head to El Corte ingles together to get me some non-iron or linen shirts so I could look somewhat presentable out and about. I wish I had just bought some with me in the first place.
In the changing rooms though I finally realised, to the relief of Ellen, just how scruffy I now looked. And so, I decided it was time to say goodbye to the Great big bushy beard! I’d managed a couple of months, but it was now time.
Back at the van after a quick shop for some mince. Honestly I’d been in this store 5 times today, you’d have thought I could have bought everything in one go! I jumped in shower and sorted the beard out whilst Ellen started dinner so we could make our Fado booked for 7:30.
The Fado was fantastic, and thankfully I was feeling back to normal so could fully enjoy it. We took the time to wander Porto one last time and have a few more drinks before we turned in for the night. We cannot wait to return but we decided that the next day was time to start heading into the Duoro Valley itself.
So, the next morning we set off through some of the rougher outskirts of Porto heading east. Winding our way into the hills up the Duoro, the valleys became deeper and steeper. Eventually we came across a picnic spot where a British plated van was parked. Peak Tours, a cycling tour company from Glossop in Derbyshire, and a Lady was setting up lunch for the cyclists coming through. We chatted for a while whilst eating lunch about respective travels and issues faced by Portugal and Spain with over tourism.
After lunch we headed on further and stopped at another spectacular viewpoint and I wanted to get a shot of one of the Quintas on a hilltop across the way. However, having known out the drone to a suitable starting location, I forgot to ensure it was recording before performing the shot. Annoyed at myself, I flew back to reset for another pass. But without paying full attention to the drone’s surroundings and descended straight into a cluster of tall trees…
Panic set in, this is an expensive bit of kit, that hill was very steep and it’s hard to know just how far a drone is from you visually. Thankfully it has gps and a bleeping noise to help find it when lost but it was still a bit of a task to find. I had to scramble down the muddy steep banks through thick brush and scrub to try find this drone.
Eventually, relieved, I found it flipped upside down amongst the trees. I flew it back out, carefully, so it was one less thing to carry back out, and landed it near Ellen at the top. Then, covered in mud even all over my nice converse, I got back up to the road and the viewpoint. Disaster averted, lessons learned.
That evening we parked in a small free and empty aire but realised that only 3km down the road was a vineyard we could stay at for free that I’d totally missed. That would have to wait for now as it was too late in the day.
Still, it was lovely and quiet and the next day, despite the rain, we headed down to the vineyard where we were greeted by the lively friendly owner. He welcomed us and said that there would be a free wine tasting the next morning at 10am if we were interested. Well obviously we were!
We spent the rest of the day in amongst the showers with myself chilling in the van and Ellen taking a walk around the vineyards. At one point she ended up having to scare off some loose dogs that kept viciously chasing and barking at her. Their owner completely out of control of them, mildly shouting for them to come back but completely ignoring her. Thankfully Ellen managed to keep them away by standing her ground and shouting at them, but that could have ended very badly!
That evening, back at the van we had dinner and prepared for the next day.
The morning was spent leisurely getting ready and then with a fantastic wine tasting and walk through the vineyard at Quinta da Padrela. We ended up buying a number of wines, cheeses and a 20 year Old Tawny Port before setting off down to Pinhao after lunch. Just as the rain started again. We were sick of the wet and cold by this point. It was now down to 6degC and the rain showers just kept coming.
Crossing the narrow bridge, with no traffic control across the Duoro and into Pinhao was an experience, but eventually we managed to find a spot to park up. Battling the wind and rain to climb aboard the Rabelo boat. (an engine powered replica of the old wine boats used for transporting kegs up to Porto.) But we were the only ones aboard... we started to have second thoughts about whether this was a good idea or not, but it just turned out that a family of Americans had been running late, so we weren't alone.
As we set off we found ourselves in a welcome dry patch. And we managed to stay in this patch all the way up the river. However, as we turned around to come back, the crew came down to ask if we minded being back 15 minutes (or so we thought) late. They had forgotten to pick up some clients at the village where we had turned around.
After we had finally picked them up, we found ourselves heading straight into the storm and all of us, the new people included were trying to stay warm in the back half of the boat which was indoors. This was made worse by the fact that we soon realised around the 2.5 hour point of this 2 hour cruise, that we were still a way out from Pinhao. We ended up getting back 50 minutes later and annoyed, cold and tired we all disembarked.
That night we headed further east a ways up to a viewpoint across the valley. But due to the storm and fading light, we couldn't really appreciate the view.
So you can imagine our surprise upon waking up easter morning to blue skies and a glorious view across the valley and river. We decided that this would make a perfect place to sit and spend Easter Sunday and we'd instead head off toward Spain tomorrow.
