The boat left port long before I got out of bed. When my eyes finally opened, I looked out our cabin’s window and saw this:
We were inside the Bagauste Lock, the third of five dams on the Douro River. The next set of locks would come three hours later when we reached Valeira Dam…
Here we had to wait for a downstream river cruise boat to clear the locks before our vessel could enter. Our relatively tiny river cruise boat pretty much filled the lock. Looking at the size of some of the other vessels, I wondered how they could possibly squeeze in.
Clearing the lock…
I remained on the sundeck and spent a glorious morning watching as we bypassed hillsides terraced with the vineyards…
…where the grapes for prime port and other Douro region wines are grown.
Railroad tracks follow the river. Unlike most European trains, which are electrically powered, trains here are pulled by diesel locomotives.
Passing all these sprawling vineyards made me want to indulge in an extra glass of wine at lunch. And why not? Cruises are escapes where we expect to be pampered, and all that beer and wine at mealtime is included in the price.
After lunch, the boat docked at the Pocinho Pier. Instead of continuing upstream on the boat, we would take a bus (same driver, same guide) on an overland journey to the medieval fortress village of Castelo Rodrigo. We would eventually return to the boat upstream near the Spanish border.
Arriving in Castelo Rodrigo, we immediately sampled some of the local wines…
…and then were turned loose to explore on our own.
Cobblestone streets took us past the parish church.
We admired the local wildlife…
…and ventured down narrow streets where local residents used the latest solar technology to dry their laundry.
At the top of this hilltop village, we visited the remains of the Cristóvão de Moura Palace, which was built in 1590.
I love old structures, and for me, the few hours we spent in Castelo Rodrigo provided one of the highlights of the trip.
On the drive back down to the Douro, the bus stopped at Parque de Merendas where we could get out and enjoy the view looking down into the Douro River Valley.
We shared the view with a young lady who arrived on a battery-powered scooter, which she rode up the twisting, mountain road.
Later that afternoon, we rendezvoused with the boat at Barca d’Avla, the last river cruise port on the Douro before the border with Spain.
On the middle day of our seven-day cruise, we would not be cruising at all. The next dam upriver, the Aldeadávila Dam, is a huge, 460-foot-tall, gravity arch dam that has no locks. Thus, this is as far as most Douro River cruises go.
Instead of sailing today, we will be taking the bus (same driver, same guide) to the Spanish city of Salamanca where we will spend the day.
Unfortunately, the bus was scheduled to depart at 8:00 a.m., about the time I normally get out of bed. Fortunately, the boat’s coffee maker was working and breakfast was being served.
On our two-hour drive from Barca d’Alva, Portugal, to Salamanca, Spain, I stared out the bus window at acres of sunflower fields. This was scenery only a Kansan would love.
Arriving in Salamanca, we were given a time and place to meet for lunch and then set free to wander around on our own.
While most of our fellow passengers headed for city center, Dianne and I wandered down side streets past the Pontifical University of Salamanca.
We passed apartments with windowsills holding flower boxes and satellite TV antennas.
We passed decorative fountains where the water pipe stems from the character’s mouth.
We walked past businesses that might be worth a visit…
…and others that weren’t.
We eventually passed through Plaza Mayor, the main square in the center of town.
Here, dozens and dozens of empty tables awaited lunch-time diners.
Our lunch would come at a local hotel…
Where we were treated to a flamenco dancer show.
Audience participation followed the formal performance, with even the audio-operator’s young daughter joining in.
After lunch, we went on a short tour with a local guide. One of the things she showed us was how to find Salamanca’s famous toad and skull stonework on the wall of the university’s main entrance.
Given enough time, I probably would have maybe perhaps found this on my own, but it was a lot easier with our guide pointing out the location.
As for its meaning, she pointed out that the toad represents females and the skull connotes death. The message was that if students (all males back then) engaged in hanky panky, bad things would happen.
Another interesting piece of stonework our guide pointed out, was found on the side of the Cathedral of Salamanca.
Here, on the facade of this 400-year-old church, diligent observers will find an astronaut…
…and a dragon enjoying an ice cream cone.
The images, our guide tells us, were not 400-year-old prognostications of the future . They were actually added when restoration work was done to the church facade in 1992.
All too soon, it was time to return to the bus for the exciting, two-hour drive back to the boat.
From here, the boat makes a U-turn and we begin a two-day sail back to Porto.
At the Valeira Dam, we watch as another river cruise boat rises in the lock…
…and exits.
Here, we use the lock in the opposite direction, entering with the lock filled…
…and then waiting for the water to drain out so we can continue downstream.
We pass familiar sites as we head downstream to Regua where we will dock for the night. From there, our bus and guide will take us to the nearby Mateus Palace and Gardens.
Mateus and I have history. When I was growing up, Mateus was a popular wine, their empty bottles frequently serving as candle holders. The night of my high school senior prom, my date and I went to a nice restaurant in Phoenix, she in her gown and I clad in a rented tux. The server took our order and asked if we wanted wine with that.
We were both 18 and the legal drinking age in Arizona was 21, but things were looser back then and we probably looked older than we were. “We certainly do,” I told the waitress. Ordering the only wine I knew by name, I said, “We’ll have a bottle of Mateus, please.”
Now in Portugal, I was eager to visit the source of my early exposure to wine.
We arrived at the Mateus Palace, the exquisite edifice which provided the background for their bottle labels back then.
We would soon get a tour of the inside of the palace. In the meantime, we were free to wander the gardens.
Then it was time to venture inside.
It was good to see that the Mateus family put the profits they made off that bottle of wine I bought back in high school to good use.
For old times sake, Dianne and I bought a small bottle of Mateus (they only offer rose now) to try later in the trip.
Perhaps my taste in wine has changed, but this stuff was downright awful. “Tastes like watered-down Kool-Aid,” my lovely wife suggested.
Fortunately, onboard that evening, we were treated to a sample of vintage bottle 2008 port.
That was followed by a wild night of karaoke singing…
Shortly after breakfast, we passed through the Carrapatelo Locks again…
…and continued downstream, passing a riverside resort with a sandy beach and kayaks and SUPs to rent..
We stopped at the docks in Entre-os-Rios, the port where we spent the first night on our cruise.
From here we would take the bus to Casa de Quintã where we would have lunch.
Like the Mateus Palace, the estate here features opulent architecture…
and decorative gardens.
But unlike the Mateus property, Casa de Quintã offers guest lodging…
And a pool.
We, of course, would use none of that on our visit.
Like Mateus, this estate sports it’s own chapel,
Long tables were set up in one of the outside plazas, and I assumed that would be where we would dine. No, that’s for a wedding party, we were told. Our party of 30 would be served lunch indoors in what I assume is the grand banquet room. The food and wine proved to be as pleasing as the surroundings.
After saying goodbye to the estate’s diligent watchdog, we boarded the bus and proceeded back to the boat.
From here, we would cruise back to Porto…
…passing under Porto’s signature, two-level bridge.
We docked and spent our last onboard night a few hundred yards downstream of the Dom Luis I bridge.
We learned that on our cruise, we 30 passengers had consumed 183 bottles of wine onboard. That didn’t count the additional bottles consumed at our lunches and dinners off the boat.
An additional five bottles of Portugal’s best were consumed that evening by those of us who retreated to the sun deck to enjoy the lights shimmering off the bridge…
…and the fireworks, which flew skyward from across the river in Gaia.
While we were gazing at our surroundings, a few folks, including my current wife, remained in the lounge, drinking wine…
…and singing along to tunes played by Jorge, the boat’s piano man.
Wine and energy exhausted, we finally turned in for what sadly was our last night onboard the Spirit of Chartwell.
After breakfast onboard, we disembarked, trusted our luggage to a van driver and walked to the 1872 River House, our home for the next four nights. The main entrance…
sits right next to the local McDonalds.
While a BigMac would have been convenient, the only hamburgers we ate in Portugal came from a real restaurant.
With a stone wall and hardwood floors, our room at the River House boasted a feel worthy of the 1872 name. Best of all, our two large window-doors looked directly out to the river.
While the room offered an 1872 feel, the bathroom looked like something from the 1950s.
We spent the rest of Friday exploring the cities of Porto and Gaia. We rode the funicular in Porto up the hill…
…and crossed the river on the upper deck of the Dom Luís I Bridge.
Our first stop was the Serra do Pilar Monastery…
…which appeared to be closed for visitation, but the view from its deck was spectacular.
Feeling a pressing need to find our favorite two letters in Portuguese (WC), we wandered down to Jardim do Morro where a restaurant offered both food and facilities along with a pleasant view of Porto’s signature bridge.
Instead of taking the cable gondolas down to river level…
We walked down the the steps, which Dianne’s replacement knee handled with only minor complaints.
That night, we looked out our room’s windows to see the lights of Gaia painting the river.
Prior to our arrival, I had booked two days of hop on/hop off bus tickets for Porto. Instead of yellow, this time I chose red colored busses.
They only offered two routes through town, one exclusively on the Porto side of the river and the other crossing over into Gaia. On Saturday, we took them both, looking for places to explore later on foot.
On the Gaia route, we hopped off and walked over to the World of Wine for lunch. I ordered a Francesinha, a Portuguese speciality made with rump steak and smoked saugage sandwiched between layers of toasted bread. It’s capped with an egg, melted cheese and comes soaked in a port wine sauce. Quite nice.
We followed that up with port tasting at the Heritage Wine Shop presented by a French Canadian transplant from Montreal. He may not hail from Portugal, but he really knew his stuff.
We bought a bottle, which we enjoyed back in our room while gazing out at the lights across the river.
One of the hop-on, hop-off bus places we thought would be interesting to explore on foot was the Foz do Douro (Mouth of the Douro) area west of Porto. We had 48-hour bus tickets, so we just hopped on near the hotel and hopped off near a coastal beach.
One of the things we wanted to check out was the Forte de São Francisco Xavier, a stone fortification built along the shoreline near the mouth of the river.
The structure was, of course, closed, but we still had a good time shooting photos of it from various angles.
From the fort, we walked down a boardwalk along the rocky coastline…
…stopping for brews (and bathrooms) at a seaside cafe…
…before heading on past more sunbathing beaches.
Farther down the coast we come to the Pérgola da Foz. According to yesterdasy’s bus narration, this is considered one of the most romantic sites in town.
We continued on to Forte de São João Baptista, a 16th century fortification off the Douro River.
From here, we found the next bus stop and hopped on for the ride back to our riverfront hotel.
On Monday, we opted to walk downstream along the river to the Ponte da Arrábida bridge near where we bailed out the day before.
Across the river, we saw the Spirit of Chartwell moored next to another, full-size river cruise boat. Our little brown boat looked so small compared with its 102-passenger brethren.
Along our route, we passed some grand edifices on the hillsides…
…and some not so grand edifices.
We saw a young man motoring by on a rented scooter, his girlfriend clinging on tightly. The smile on his face says it all.
At one time, ships tied up along the seawall out here. Rusting mooring rings still set in the stonework.
We soon reached the bridge, the first of six spanning the Douro River around Porto. When it was completed in 1963, it was the largest concrete arch bridge in the world.
Near the bridge, we passed anglers, hard at work trying to catch dinner.
For a mere 20€, one can book a guided climb up steps on the curving arch of the bridge, 200+ feet above the river. With Dianne’s new knee not yet fully broken in, this was not something we could do. We’ll save it for next time.
We stopped at a nearby riverside restaurant for lunch. Yes, we had yet another pizza in Portugal.
We passed a helicopter pad in the river from where Sky Experience flights launch. The only thing flying today were the seagulls.
At the other end of the pad, some lads were kicking around a soccer ball.
Now, you might wonder what happens if the ball inadvertently goes over the side…
That night, we crossed the river to attend a concert of Portuguese fado music.
Of course, we didn’t understand a word of what the singer was singing, but we so loved the sound of the Portuguese fado guitar that we bought an album of just fado guitar music.
We followed the fado concert with a fish-n-chips dinner at, where else, the World of Wine.
Tuesday, we caught our prearranged transfer to Porto’s main rail station. We then boarded a train to the little town of Viana do Castelo, which lies up the coast from Porto. We would spend two nights there.
The town was listed in an online article about The 26 Most Stunning Coastal Towns in Portugal. It lay a mere 75 kilometers from Porto, so it would be easy to get to. That was about all I knew about the town.
What I didn’t know was that we were going to be there during the Romaria de Nossa Senhora d’Agonia, Our Lady in Sorrow festival. Bleachers and skyline decorations lined one of the city’s main streets.
Our travel agent booked rooms for us at a pleasant little guesthouse “suite” a few blocks from the train depot.
After checking in, we went down to a small sidewalk cafe for lunch. Looking at the pictures on the menu, we decided to go American and chose to order Cacchorros, thinking we would get something that looked like this.
Well, this is what we actually received. So that you don’t miss it, the arrow points to the well concealed weenie.
Spending two nights in town gave us one full day to explore the place on foot. The view out our room’s window showed a large cathedral atop a forested hill. We decided we would head there first.
I suggested we walk up to the cathedral, but my wife, favoring her new knee, opted to ride up in the funicular.
Arriving topside, we headed around to the front of the cathedral where we discovered two things. First, the left tower was blanketed with netting, which covered ongoing reconstruction work. The other thing was that a wedding was taking place.
Judging by the crowd outside, the bride and groom had a lot of friends. Their getaway car, however, seemed a bit underwhelming.
Lacking an invitation to the reception, we celebrated the happy couple’s departure with brews and sandwiches we purchased at a sidewalk cafe.
We then took off on foot, hiking a few formal pathways…
…followed by a stroll up a cobblestone roadway.
The road led to the ruins of the old city of Santa Luzia, built during the iron age and later occupied in Roman times.
The site was closed, but it was not totally locked up…
…so we had the place totally to ourselves.
That night in town, I ordered spicy chicken wings…
…from a restaurant employing a wood-fired oven. Definitely better than Buffalo Wild Wings.
The next morning, we awoke to the sound of a few dozen drums pounding away in the main square on the opposite side of our guesthouse. We got dressed, packed up and hit the street.
Out in the plaza stood a row of oversize mascot characters, which had earlier been parading around the square.
They now stood still, providing backdrops for selfie lovers of all ages.
The festival dates back to 1744, and as is the custom, men clad in folklore costumes played accordions…
…grandmothers cooked…
…mothers checked their cell phones…
…and daughters flirted with their boyfriends.
It would have been nice to have remained here for another day and enjoyed more of the festival, but we had a train to catch and another town to visit. We rolled our bags up the street to the depot and were soon onboard a train heading south.
Another town I picked based on the The 26 Most Stunning Coastal Towns in Portugal posting was Aveiro, a coastal town known for its canal boats.
After a bit of an adventure trying to determine which tracks our connecting train would depart from, we made it into town. There, next to the depot in Aveiro, stood a building decorated with those beautiful Portuguese blue tile murals.
With a little help from Google, we found our hotel located down a nearby side street.
After checking in, we found a small pizza place across the street for dinner — yes, another pizza in Portugal.
The next morning, we headed for the boats.
A number of different companies operate along the canals, with all charging about the same prices. We pretty much took the last one we found, bought tickets and hopped aboard for a one-hour cruise.
Unlike the gondolas of Venice, Aveiro’s canal boats hold more than a dozen people and they’re motor powered.
We sailed down canals in the older areas of town…
…cruised under arched walkway bridges…
…and into the modern area of Aveiro…
…where the foot bridge railings…
…were draped with love ribbons.
Other bridges displayed interesting artwork.
We stopped for lunch at a canal-side restaurant…
…where we discovered that our waitress was from the Cape Verde Islands. She was shocked to learn that I not only knew where those islands were located (off the coast of central Africa) and that I had actually visited there years ago.
Carefully following directions…
…we walked around town, passing old buildings that once served as salt warehouses…
…and nearby, a conveniently unlocked construction site sani-hut.
We wandered past outdoor art…
…and more outdoor art.
In the end, we passed by a small shop…
…where we learned that we were exactly where we needed to be.
We celebrated that truth that evening with glasses of 10-year-old tawny port at our hotel that night.
From Aveiro, we took the highspeed train back to Lisbon, then caught a commuter train to the nearby town of Sintra where we would spend two nights.
With a little help from Google, we found our hotel off a side street close to the train station.
The room was nice in a Marriott sort of way.
What we really liked about the room was that it had an electrically heated clothes drying rack in the bathroom. The curse of going carry-on is that we pretty much needed to wash clothes every day.
Home of numerous castles, palaces, parks and street-side artwork that would be banned in Texas, Sintra was arguably the most beautiful city we visited in Portugal.
Because of Dianne’s knee, we decided not to hike up to the hilltop castles.
Instead, we would stick to the lower level attractions such as the Regaleira Palace and Gardens.
Unfortunately, this was Sunday, and the line of people waiting to get in stretched down the sidewalk for several blocks.
Not worth it, we concluded. Instead, we continued onward toward the Seteais Palace, which is now an upscale hotel.
Through the arch, an outdoor stairway led to a stone deck from which we enjoyed lofty views of the surrounding countryside.
Retreating back to town…
…we passed restaurants…
…gift shops…
…and a Superman-worthy phone booth.
After lunch, featuring a bowl of the best gazpacho I’ve had this side of Spain…
…we bought tickets to the Palacio Nacional de Sintra, which sits off the main square.
Inside, we found that Portugal’s residing royalty enjoyed beautiful garden landscaping…
…spacious rooms…
…roomy bedrooms…
…freestanding bathtubs…
…and ceilings with swans.
There was even a fully equipped kitchen where the queen could cook up delicious halftime snacks for the king and his buddies.
As we toured the national palace, I remembered those pertinent words from America’s great philosopher and poet, Tom Petty:
It’s good to be king, if just for a while To be there in velvet, yeah, to give ’em a smile It’s good to get high and never come down It’s good to be king of your own little town
We had dinner downtown, returning to the hotel at dusk. We grabbed our bottle of 10-year-old port, got a pair of wine glasses from the desk clerk and retreated to the hotel patio for a Portuguese nightcap under the stars.
Monday morning, we packed up our bags, walked to the rail station and caught the next train back to Lisbon. From there, we took the subway to the airport and walked over to our final Portuguese hotel of the trip.
The hotel had a small restaurant and bar…
…where we could enjoy a final glass of Portuguese beer…
…and our last pizza in Portugal. (It was awful.)
The next morning, we wheeled our bags back to the airport and boarded our morning flight from Lisbon to Philadelphia…
…where once again we were pampered in business class.
Yes, it’s good to be king, if just for a while!
Unfortunately, since we cashed in nearly all of our frequent flyer miles on this trip, the next time we fly we’ll probably be dining on pretzels in far less comfortable surroundings.
After a lazy morning in the KOA, we headed toward Aurora, Denver’s biggest bedroom community. Our plan was to drive past our old home before stopping for lunch at our favorite nearby Mexican restaurant.
We lived in this home for 37 years, and over that time, we invested a lot of blood, sweat and beers trying to make it an attractive place to live. It looked pretty nice when our realtor took this shot in 2021.
It doesn’t look so nice anymore. Now, I don’t care what the new owners do to the place. I don’t live there anymore. My other half, however, was very disappointed to see weeds in the rock and plants apparently dying of thirst.
I hoped to console Dianne’s grief with some liquid refreshments at our old favorite restaurant.
Unfortunately, we found it closed and boarded up. It turns out that after we left town, they couldn’t handle the major drop in business. We visited their new location near a shopping mall on the south end of Aurora.
It was great to have something new for lunch instead of Dianne’s old standby.
Next stop was Boulder. Dianne wanted to get some new clothes for our trip to Portugal, so we stopped by the REI (Really Expensive Items) and Patagonia stores in Boulder.
Then it was off to the Bookcliff Vineyards winery…
…where we would meet many of our fellow Portugal river cruise passengers in the back of the winery. Should be a fun group.
Saturday morning, we got up late, devoured two of KOA’s pancake and sausage breakfasts, hitched up and began the 300-mile drive home. The first few miles into Denver went smoothly with the interstate crowded but moving.
Then we hit the traffic that gave Denver its Gridlock Gulch moniker.
It was bumper-to-bumper, creep-and-nogo for mile after mile after mile. It took 2½ hours to cover the first 70 miles.
Fortunately, we lost some of the traffic at Idaho Springs and by the time we cleared Vail, the interstate was back to being crowded but moving.
The scenery improved as we hit DeBeque Canyon. A few miles later, we were at home, sitting in our recliners with a bowl of popcorn and a chilled bottle of Bookcliff’s best.
