On Wednesday afternoon, we arrived in Porto a bit late (these are Portuguese trains, not Swiss Rail). With a bit of effort, we finally located our transfer driver outside the train station. After another realization of why we don’t drive in Europe, we arrived at our hotel, checked in and went up to our room…
…where we found a note along with a couple of candies waiting on the bed for us.
Now, that’s something we’ve never gotten at a Motel 6!
Our room overlooked an Italian-themed restaurant. We went down and ordered a lasagne. The waiter suggested a bottle of the Pacheca red wine. He’d apparently visited the winery and said that they have rooms for overnight guests built into some of the huge wine barrels used to make ruby port. We’ll book a night there on our next trip to Portugal, I assured him.
After dinner, we walked along the riverfront walkway. As we passed some folks dining on a narrow walkway above the river, Dianne heard them mention our travel agent’s name. Yes, they were also on our cruise.
We continued onward, watching as lights lit up the Monastery of Serra do Pilar across the river…
Our cruise didn’t board until Friday night so we had all day Thursday to wander around Porto on foot. We started the day with the hotel breakfast, which included the usual array of salad and sandwich fixings. Fortunately, for us Americans, there were also scrambled eggs, bacon and sausage weenies along with an array of Portuguese pastries.
After eating, we wandered down to the walkway along the riverfront where we watched tour boats haul tourists out for a cruise under Porto’s six bridges.
Above us, we watched a man along a wall cook fish on a pair of hibachis. We weren’t sure if it was for a restaurant or he was getting ready to host a fish feast.
Sidewalk shops line the riverfront walkway, offering great bargains on tons of things we don’t need and didn’t buy.
And, of course, there are restaurants and more restaurants. Nobody with a working credit card needs to go hungry out here.
We spent the day walking around, savoring the sights and snapping photos of things of stuff we just found interesting…
That night we had more Italian food, this time a pepperoni pizza from an al fresco restaurant across the street from the hotel.
Noting that we had previously purchased pizza in Lisbon, Dianne complained that we were becoming Portugal pizza people.
We don’t board our Douro River cruise boat until later this afternoon, so we had all day to wander more of the city. We decided to cross the Dom Luis I Bridge and check out Porto’s across-the-river neighbor, Vila Nova de Gaia.
The famous wine from here may be named Port for the port city of Porto, but the wineries that cellar this distinctive Portuguese beverage are all located in Gaia.
The grapes for this sweet, fortified wine grow in vineyards along the Douro River upstream. Before the advent of highways, railways and river-taming dams, barrels of the wine floated down the Douro in rabelo boats. A number of these classic craft line the riverfront in Gaia, each advertising a sponsoring brand of port.
Like Porto, Gaia lies on riverside hills. Instead of elevators and funiculars, Gaia offers a ski-style gondola to ferry folks from the river to a park near the hilltop Monastery. We’re skiers, so riding in a gondola on steel cables is no big thrill, so we chose to stay down today.
After unsavory sandwiches but bountiful brews at an outdoor café/bar, we wandered up a side street where we encountered a hare-brained sidewalk mural.
A short distance beyond, we came to the WOW, which we later learned is an acronym for World of Wine. After dodging a swarm of yellow-clad apprentice people meandering by…
we entered. We discovered this was a self-proclaimed “cultural district” filled with museums, shops, bars and restaurants.
At what is literally an openair fern bar on its top level deck…
…we ordered glasses of white port…
…and chatted with a man holding a Harris hawk, whose job is to scare away any seagulls that might think about pooping by.
The views from the fifth-floor deck were splendid.
The thing I liked most about the WOW was that every floor offered sets of restrooms that were close, convenient, clean and free.
Europeans, I figure, must have metric-sized bladders. While most restaurants have restrooms for customers, public restrooms around these parts are few and far between. That meant stopping at bars and ordering brews so we could use their restroom to deposit the last brews we ordered.
Our favorite two letters in Portuguese were WC,
In the afternoon, we recrossed the river and back at the hotel, watched our luggage being loaded into a van. We followed it down to the river where our cruise boat awaited. We boarded and headed to our cabin…
…turned off the TV…
…checked out the bathroom…
…then headed up to the lounge along with our 28 fellow passengers.
Douro river cruises do not travel after dark, so on our first night we would not leave the dock in Porto. After dinner onboard, we went out on the sundeck (moondeck?) and savored glasses of wine while admiring the beauty of the illuminated bridge, monastery…
We got up, enjoyed a buffet breakfast on the boat [it seems presumptuous to call this 210-foot vessel a “ship”] and boarded a bus for a tour of Porto. Our job was to march along, following our guide’s “lollypop.”
Now, I’m not a big fan of group tours. Yes, one can learn a lot from a knowledgeable, guide, but following along in a group segregates us from the locals. At least we only had 30 followers to trip over. I can’t imagine what it must be like on those river boats that hold 190 passengers.
This is Europe, so our first stop was the Porto Cathedral, a structure that dates back to the 12th century, or at least I think that’s what she said. I was at the back of the pack and didn’t catch everything.
Located high on a hill, the views of rooftops from outside the cathedral was stunning.
In a large open area in front of the cathedral, a young busker played her violin.
The music was lovely and the look on the young lady’s face suggested that she was enjoying playing it for us. Of course, I dropped a few euros into her tip jar.
Then it was back on the bus.
Next stop on our tour was the São Bento railway station, located in historic downtown Porto. The station’s lobby, which dates back to 1904, was covered with Portugal’s famous, blue and white tile murals.
Each tile mural tells a story about Portugal’s history, and the artwork was absolutely stunning.
Back in the bus, we headed off to our next stop, which lay across the river in Gaia. There, we took a tour of the Burmester port cellars.
A Burmester guide gave us a short tour of the facility and fully explained more than anyone needs to know about this fortified wine.
Now that we were fully educated, we got to sample some of their product. I bought a bottle to take with us.
We returned to the boat for lunch. My lovely wife opted for the seafood option, which was octopus. I’ve had octopus before, and I must say that when it comes to animal appendages, I prefer Buffalo wings to octopus legs. Needless to say, I chose the non-aquatic option.
While we were dining, the captain and crew fired up the engines and we began our upriver voyage.
There are five dams on the Portuguese portion of the Douro River. The first one was the Crestuma-Lever Dam, which we encountered mid-afternoon.
Being the first, most of us passengers ventured to the sun deck and watched as the boat slowly entered the lock.
With the vessel totally inside this square concrete canyon, the back doors of the lock close.
The water level in our little concrete box rises, and 45 vertical feet later, when it’s even with the water level upstream of the dam, the upstream door drops…
…and we continue onward.
One of my favorite joys of cruising (besides the food, wine and fact that I don’t have to actually do anything) is just sitting back and enjoying the views along the way.
I watched as we passed abandoned buildings along the riverside, wondering what they were once used for and why they still sit there crumbling away.
We passed numerous active vineyards, their vines growing on terraced hillsides.
We passed other vessels along the river, not all of which were cruise boats.
When we reached the village of Entre-os-Rios…
…we docked for the night.
After dinner (wine flowing freely)…
…a local Portuguese folk trio boarded the boat and provided an energetic evening of musical entertainment.
Even though we could not understand a word of their lyrics, the upbeat tempo (and wine) provided an excuse for passengers to turn the lounge into a dance party.
Unfortunately, my favorite wife, her new artificial knee covered by an ice pack, was not able to do the moves.
In the wee hours of morning (7:45 a.m.), the boat left the docks and headed upstream.
The river valley narrowed, the stream flowing between steeply forested hillsides and outcrops of naked rock. It looks to be a perfect place to place a dam…
…which is exactly what the Portuguese did. This is the Carrapatelo Dam…
…where we slowly enter the deepest lock in all of Europe.
Confined in a narrow, concrete canyon that’s only slightly wider and longer than the boat might be a challenge for anyone suffering from claustrophobia.
Doors close, water enters and the boat slowly rises 115 feet, about 2/3 the height of Niagara Falls.
Water levels in the lock and upstream equal, doors open and we sail out, now upstream of this big concrete cork blocking the river.
We continue upriver, gazing at greenery and the occasional riverside village.
One of the fun things on a European river cruise is sailing under low bridges. We made it under this one with a few feet to spare.
We docked in the town of Regua…
…where our bus (same driver) and Ana, same tour guide awaited.
We were soon off to the town of Lamego where we visited (remember, this is Europe) a church. This was the Our Lady of Remedies Church…
…which sits high above town.
Outside, its staircases sported a tile mural…
…and it’s interior was as ornate as one expects to find in a European house of worship.
Back down in town, we stopped by another church, this one the Cathedral of Our Lady of the Assumption.
Lamego is known for its Raposeira sparkling wine along with Mateus rose (more on that pink stuff later).
We sampled some on our tour…
…then joined fellow passengers at a streetside bar for more.
After returning to the boat for lunch, we set off on another bus tour. This one would take us to Quinta da Pacheca, the winery our lasagna waiter had recommended back in Porto.
Standing in a large tub enclosure, our winery guide told us about how they process their grapes by hand, or in this case by foot.
The grapes, he explains, are loaded into this stone-walled tub. Then, a group of human grape stompers then circle around it, crushing the grapes with their bare feet. This keeps the seeds and stems from being crushed into the juice.
I immediately walked up to Jordan, president of Bookcliff Vineyards (our trip sponsor), and volunteered to be a grape stomper if Bookcliff ever wanted to get rid of their mechanical crushers.
We enjoyed dinner that night at the winery, with plenty of that foot-crushed wine on tap.
After begrudgingly agreeing to pose for a selfie with the wife…
…it was back into the bus for the return to Regua, where overhead lights near the docks provided a fitting end to Day #2 of our wine cruise up the Douro River.
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.
