Porto to the Douro Valley Day 17
Woke up late. Very quick breakfast then down to the lobby to await our ride into the Douro Valley. A tall, professional, very serious gentleman by the name of Jose arrived precisely at 9:00. We loaded up into his very comfortable black luxury transport. Our friend Ohsue wanted to come along, being fluent in Portuguese she thought she might be a help, but I didn’t want to put Jose in bad spot ferrying three instead of two so sadly we turned her down. Funny though, we felt her ghostly presence all day long. Ohsue has that kind of effect on people.
Our guide was to be Jose Azevado with Imperial Tours (351-916-003-092). He informed us that we would make a stop enroute to the valley winery to show us some cultural sights and explain some history – if that was alright with us. Jose was like that. All day long, He remained polite, helpful and willing to listen to all our questions, suggestions and background chatter as we traveled an hour northward and an hour back to Porto.
The countryside was beautiful striped with small vineyards climbing up and down the rolling hills. The further east we went the more the hills rolled higher and higher as the vineyards grew in size. We stopped in the city of Amarante, about the same size as our home city of Waynesboro, a little more than 10,000 residents. It is an old city situated on the Tamega River. Settled well before Romans and the Visigoths- but came to importance in the 1200s with the arrival of São Gonçala. A picturesque location.
São Gonçala was never consecrated a saint but according to Jose he was instrumental in building the historic Bridge and nearby church and is attributed with performing many miracles. As such, locals refer to him as a saint. One of his supposed abilities was heavenly matchmaking. Remembered today during various festivals. In a sweet shop where we stopped and Jose treated us, we saw the infamous cock and balls shaped bolos. Described as being hard and sweet and filled with a sweet cream filling. No, I am not making this up (See picture).
We also visited São Gonçala’s church, large but not an overlarge structure, outside not so impressive. Inside, visitors are in awe. We were. We continue to be astounded by the amount of gilt decoration that can fill a Portuguese church. In São Gonçala’s church, we were surprised to find what looked to be a Modern Art marble altar with matching seats in front of the original altar. São Gonçala himself is laid out in an alcove to the left of the altar in a coffin that reflects a facsimile of his likeness.
We next set out for our port tasting. Along the way we learned that, like us, Jose is a dog lover and has three at home. He spoke fondly of having them revive his spirit after being on the road and working six days a week just to make ends meet. He is very supportive of the tourist industry as it provides jobs where jobs are hard to come by.
Arrived at Quinta da Pacheca Winery late morning. What a lovely mix of the modern and the historical. Pacheca is one of the larger, older, and more successful wineries which both grows its own grapes and makes its own wine (red only) and quality port. Apparently most wineries do only one or the other, grow grapes or process grapes. We learned again that women pick the grapes – an arduous job – just look at the slopes and the elevations in the accompanying pictures (See my FB posting). The men carry the full baskets and transport the grapes, then stomp them. Jose said he’s done his share of it. It is apparently hard work but after a couple hours once wine and food are produced and lively music is played, we were assured that footstomping grapes turns into a party, one in which locals are invited to join in. Jose said that after stomping, his toenails remain black for up to three weeks!
While waiting for the tasting, we looked around, took some pictures and met an old vineyard dog lounging on an outdoor couch. He was dead to the world. We were jokingly told that he is given a bowl of port to begin his day and he spends the rest of his day sleeping it off. Could be true, as we got very little reaction out of him. A Vineyard guide walked us about and informed us of Pacheco’s history. He showed us the modern hotel built on the property which included a handful of giant wine casks turned into overnight rooms. We saw the stone crushing-troughs where grapes are poured and stomped. Some were empty, some full. Descending into a great underground storage facility we saw ya grand dinner table set for some luck- couple’s memorable wedding.
Finally, we got to tasting. We sat at a table in front of four empty wineglasses. One by one, a measure of wine was poured into each as our guide described the finer points of the vintage. We sampled a rosé and a red, both were good, but the first was pretty young and well, so-so. The second was better, more complex than the first. We were then given two different ports. The first was a 40-year Tawny that knocked my socks off. Just the aroma alone would amaze you. It was without a doubt the best wine I have ever had. It was also $100+ per bottle. We could not fathom why they would waste such excellent wine on us – accidentally opened the wrong bottle is my guess. The second port was a young ruby port (2018). It was excellent, but by then I was spoiled b the 40-year vintage!
We left the winery to wend our way back west. Stopped at one of the five Douro Locks where we were amazed to see a ship rising inside a lock at least said to be 40 meters deep. Ate at an out of the way rural eatery for workmen called La Bamba. I had a pork steak, Jen had grilled chicken. Sadly, there was a mix-up at the restaurant for the tour agency failed to arrange our meal. Jose left us on a mysterious mission, picking us up about 45 minutes later and paid for our meal. Getting into the car, he said he had for us a small gift and handed us a bag of hard candy explaining it was made of sugar and caramel and was a common local treat.
Our next and final point of interest was the top of the mountain – Miradouro de S. Leonardo da Galafura. We were in the heart of steep wine country where shale is broken up by hand and vines planted on as much as 25-30 degree slopes. These seemed to stretch on forever. Harvesting was over and we passed many, many trucks loaded with freshly-picked, deep purple fruit. Jose, who confesses to loving racing and being a rally driver, took us up the tallest of the vineyard hills, but with notable caution … he had to. If he had used his rally skills we would have rapidly tumbled down one of the treacherous slopes
The dirt road we took (amazingly laid with cobblestone in some places) was single lane and wound round many tight corners. Jose was constantly honking to warn oncoming traffic. We did encounter two cars coming down the hill – I will admit, being on the slope side of the car I couldn’t help but imagining tumbling down that slope. In both cases, Jose carefully backed up to a slightwidening in the road so that the oncoming vehicle could squeeze by. Squeeze they did and we managed to make it to the top.
I had already complimented Jose’s driving – I did it again!
We parked at the top to take pictures. What magnificent scenery! Here Jose surprised us again. He pulled out an insulated jug from the car, telling us it was Moscato, his favorite wine. He had purchased some to share it with us in this, his favorite place. It was here he said that he would come to get his head together when days were bad. He poured small amounts for us all and we toasted the beauty of the Douro Valley. The drive back was largely silent as we were all a little tired. Unfortunately for Jose, his day was not over. He had an evening tour after ours.
At the hotel we hugged and said our goodbyes. I promised him a good review. Never had we had a tour guide who showed such love for his country and such an interest in helping us understand the culture. Jose went over and above to show us such special attention. He is a credit to his country and his profession.
Dinner was good but not exceptional. We dined at a restaurant called Beher. Jenny had a high-grade Iberian ham sandwich. I had pork cheeks, very tasty but very, very rich. We shared roasted, salted padron peppers. Almost too tired to walk. Staggered back to the hotel.
That’s it for today. Bao Noite.
I am posting a selection of the thousands of pictures we took on Facebook. Look me up there and see what we saw!