Port Wine Lodges

Editor's note: We have fallen behind on the posts. We planned on decreasing them for mutual benefit when we got to Barcelona, but wanted to keep up to date on the 5 year Anniversary trip! Failing in that, I'll be brief in updating about the rest with a couple short posts that will likely get lost. But oh well, here they are for posterity's sake.

Lello & Irmao Bookstore in Porto. Absolutely gorgeous. No photos allowed.

In the Majestic, an excellent Art Nouveau cafe built in the 1920's

Across from Porto, picturesque crumbling buildings and forgotten church

The first full day we were in Porto we went to one Port Wine Lodge with a tour that we failed to capture on film and one other tasting. We talked about that briefly. The final day we were in Porto, along with seeing the random things we had previously missed because of the Sunday abyss, we visited the cellars of Ferreira and were not disappointed.

Old advertisement for Ferreira

Much of the information we had heard before: Tawny's are in small barrels for longer time, Rubys are in big barrels to maintain the luscious flavor of the grape, Vintages are for only very special years that the 'gods' at the Port Wine Institute deign to acknowledge, etc.
 

Vintage cellar of Ferreira

The BEST Port we tried: 10 Year White Port. No one else (as far as they know, and as far as any of the port wine sellers in Porto know) is making a White Port that ages for so long in barrels. The color is like a very well aged tawny and the taste is...ambrosia. Unfortunately, unless you come and visit us in Barcelona, or take a foray into Porto, you will not be able to taste it. They barely export it to Lisbon let alone the states. Salivate away.

Boats once used to cart the juice of foot-pressed grapes down the river to the lodges where it would grow up to become Port

Birthplace of Port Wine - Vale do Douro

The Beautiful Douro Valley. If we hadn't gotten lost, we wouldn't have gotten this picture.

Like staying in Florence and failing to visit Tuscany, is Porto without a trip to the Douro Valley. We had to go - so we did. [The pictures don't go with the text...don't get confused]

The Villa at Quinta do Panascal

The landscape is completely idyllic with river snaking through the lush and terraced hillsides betokening future liquid wonder. Unfortunately a picture just doesn't capture its beauty.

Grape varietals stationed in a row. Steph tried a couple and Micah protested.

As romantic as a riverboat cruise up the Douro River sounded, it's a four hour jaunt, oneway - and we only had a day to invest. Hertz rental car to the rescue - good thing we know how to drive a manual.

If you don't know what this is I question your sanity.

Two hours of invigorating, European driving saw us...lost - go figure. "Rick Steves' map show this will connect back down to the river..." Okay, but ol' Ricky likes to omit names of roads that are not central to the area. Irony is, you inadvertently wander off the beaten path the guide book becomes nearly obsolete. We turned around and retraced our steps.

It quickly became apparent why America is viewed as "bigger," the place where "bigger is better," and the place to "go big or go home." Cuz cars here are small, and the roads narrow. And in the winding mountain roads of Portugal's Douro Valley they are even narrower. Crossing a bridge, tour bus approaching from the opposite direction, I hugged that curb and nearly shut my eyes, wincing at the close-call.

Quinta do Panascal large wine vats for aging rubies

Redemption came in the form of more fine ports (who knew??)

Testing the Branco Port. We bought the one in the middle, however. The Ruby.

The Douro Valley - the birthplace of port wine - with "otherworldly, ever-changing terrain sculptured by centuries of hardy farmers. The Douro River's steep, craggy, twisting canyons have ben laboriously terraced to make a horizontal home for grape vines and olive and almond trees...The Douro River begins as a trickle in Spain, runs west for 550 miles and spills into the Atlantic at Porto."*

Getting lost and having four hours of driving on our plate, combined with the fact that Hertz closed at 19:00 - we could only squeeze in two Quinta tours.



Quinta do Panascal, Fonseca Guimaraens: Perfecto. Wandering amongst the closely knit grapevines on the steeply terraced hill with the beating sun and listening to British commentary. Three port tasting with purchase of Bin no. 27 - the most complex ruby we've ever laid lips to.

Here they still tread by foot the grapes used for Port. Images of I love Lucy come to mind

Quinta de la Rosa: Small, quaint and family run. Got there just in time for their spontaneous English tour. Four free tastings brought us to a 2008 Late Bottled Vintage. We would have been remiss to walk away from Portugal without some kind of vintage Port, and we were never allowed a taste of a true vintage (prohibitively expensive to buy and never included in tours) so we settled for a delicious LBV. I know. Poor us.

French oak wine barrels at Quinta de la Rosa

Our LBV from Quinta de la Rosa

Reflecting On Five Days Of Porto

It has been grand, Porto has. Porto, O'Porto - city of fortified wine, city of hills, city of cobbled streets, city that is far friendlier than any Italian counterpart that I am reminded of.

We sit cafe side, returning to the best cortado yet discovered. The view remains the same, aged stucco, stone and tile, all topped with the quintessentially Portuguese red tile roofs. The bliss of "owning" one's cafe table once seated plays well with Slow-Life aspirations. It is with some level of disappointment that I can't recall much slow living during our time here - perhaps it will come with time, or perhaps we have simply not been intentional enough, likely the latter.

I arrived in Porto with nearly no expectations; I had no idea there were enough sites and locations to keep us fully occupied for days on end. The preconception was cafe lounging and meandering from tasting room to restaurant and back again. And while we have patroned numerous cafes there has most always been something enticing us on; ask for the bill and rock on!

No, I am not complaining, and if I was, champagne-problems, right? The verdict is simply, Porto is highly underrated. No, there is no Eiffel Tower, no St. Peter's Basilica, nor any Crown Jewels, but there are ancient cathedrals, towering fifteenth century monasteries, elaborately designed book stores, bustling waterfront eateries, tight and winding streets to get lost in, and sweeping views over every hilltop.

To crown it all is the ever so fine port wine. I will even be so bold as to guess that a select few ports we imbibed were finer than anything that can be acquired State side. And this I am quite sorry to report. I will liken it in this way: imagine living in the mid twentieth century, residing somewhere in America's Midwest. You take a trip to Belgium. Having heard of their world class beer, you think, "Hey, I like beer; I drink it at home quite often - this should be fun." You arrive and discover there is more to beer than light and dark - way more. This was my experience with port wine - there is more to it than ruby and tawny - way more.

If you ever wish to discuss ports - let me know. They have found a place in my heart. (I might even venture a guess that Steph would say the same.)

Tonight we fly to Lisbon.

Stock Exchange Sardines

Second day in Porto. Micah sleeps till 11:30 (highly abnormal, usually he wakes before I do). We buy breakfast of sad little yogurt with cornflake type cereal, but the fruit we eat is good, then we head over to the Stock Exchange Palace. We have an excellent cortado while waiting for the English tour.

Cafe on a terrace facing the Stock Exchange Palace (super cool) and São Francisco Church (super Baroque) but you won't be able to see either of them because no photos were allowed. UPDATE: see below, two photos of purchased postcards - first of the Exchange and second of the Moorish party hall

The Stock Exchange Palace used to be a Convent (if I understood the tour guide right...but it was a bit grandiose for that. They probably decked it out after the nuns were kicked out) turned Stock Exchange building turned tourist money-maker. Evidently the President of Commerce and his minions still meet there, but otherwise, it runs tours through its bedecked, intricately carved rooms (the best of which was a Moorish hall perfect for parties, I think we should petition Georgetown to alter G12 to fit that style). After the tour Micah and I wandered around the Palace, up vacant staircases, peaking into vaults, and probably venturing where we weren't supposed to be, but hey, there were no ropes nor signs. Adventure is the game!

Overlooking the square by our apartment, perusing Rick Steves like a common tourist. I know, embarrassing, but I don't care!

Then for some walking around. And more walking around. There is seriously something cool to see on every corner of this city. Plus I am forever embedded on its walls! (See below)

My name marring the side of this building. (And no, I didn't put it there and neither did Micah)

Walked up the hill to the Cathedral which towers over the city. Beautiful views of the rust colored roofs and various towers and steeples spattering the town's skyline.

We have to exploit whoever will take pictures of us.

After the picture below, our camera lost battery so we are going to have to go back up into the cathedral for more photos and to view the cloisters which I hear tell are worth a visit. Not really sure what's in there, but I'm very excited.

In front of the Cathedral before our camera lost battery

You don't get to see pictures of the two port-wine lodges we visited because... no camera! We'll cross over the bridge another day for two more, but let me just tell you that the bridge was crowded with people gawking at Portuguese kids jumping off into the river. I had mixed emotions while watching this. Part of me was thinking, "Where the heck are their parents. This would probably count as negligent child abuse in the States." This warring with the other part of me that was thinking, "Could I jump that in my skirt, or would that be unwise?" A third part of me, that just wanted to go taste some port, won out and we spent a fun hour touring one of the Port lodges with its massive barrels and tasting four exquisite ports.

Dinner at Agedo São Napoleo: Cod croquettes, Vegetable Soup, and grilled Sardines. Good food, better view. We decided we wanted to try our hand at an accent because being American is just not fun. Micah attempted to affect a...uh...who knows what it was supposed to be, probably Kazakastani? accent and I went with British. Micah switched to a terrible British accent halfway through. Oh well, we won't see them again.

View from our table.

Grilled Sardines. Comrades lying together.

Comrade carcasses.

For Dessert: Stroll around the city. Have two cortados and a pastry that would equal to less than paying for public restrooms and visit the São Bento Train Station - supposedly one of the top 10 most beautiful train stations in the world (but this was coming from the guy who rented us the apartment and corroborated only by a random blog).

São Bento Station

Beautiful tiling in the station.

O'Porto - Day 1

O'Porto, my Porto! How pure European charm simply livens the senses and brightens the imagination!

De Ribeira

Now, I'll admit, the outskirts of Porto were found to be wanting - high unemployment seems to engender an artistic interest in graffiti - but this has been found to be true for most any European city (remembrances of Florence's outer areas are all but classy, Dad would recall the same). However, once within the Old City the authentic appeal of Old World charm immediately captures the mind.

Coulorful Umbrella Series Along De Ribeira

Porto is very much an old world fishing village, just enlarged with time to over 350k inhabitants. Tourism is the primary economic driver and has only recently started to outweigh the depression level downturn in the economy. Gentrification, in the form of restoration and rehabilitation have face-lifted Portugal's second largest city into the guidebooks as a top destination.



As one might presume, Porto is the home of port wine - a personal favorite of ours for post dinner relaxation (I suppose Mom and Dad Redfield and Trader Joe's have equal parts to play in this established habit). When booking accommodations, I was only too happy to see the first choice provided a bottle of Tawny, gratis. Look for a future post on port-winery tasting rooms, and perhaps vineyards.

The View From Our Living Room Veranda

Rio Douro As Seen From The Steps Of The Igreja de S Francisco Church

Catacomb #32 - Human Remains, Trapdoor In Igreja de S Francisco Church

We enjoy the Slow Movement - simply wandering the streets is enough to discover the unexpected

Pe da Cordoaria Park - We Love Nature

As anyone who knows us knows, travel is next to pointless without immersing oneself in the local cuisine. This was easier said than done during our time in Korea, but Portugal is proving far less challenging. Note the two half bottles of wine - fine wine I might add. For a mere 3.50 euros each, we imbibed the local's favorite Viho Verde, a "light, refreshing, almost always white, and slightly fizzy"* green wine. The "green" refers, not to its actual color but its young age. Quite delightful and easily sipped, the Viho Verde was a winner, along with the house red - exceptionally dry, but with much body.

To drink without eating is okay, but up till that point we had only partaken of a mere orange, breakfast crackers, and a bite of sausage - dinner must be had, and dinner we did order.

Salted Cod encrusted with cornbread braised with onion and garlic and potato; Beef Wellington cooked to medium-rare perfection with Pommes Frites - I could go on, but you're probably bored...

*Rick Steves, Portugal