Whenever people asked what I was going to do on this trip, I said I am going to Fatima and the Camino, AND I planned to drink port in Oporto. This really was the top of my list. I have loved port ever since my Texas A&M days, when Linds and I would go to the local winery, (yes - there was one in Texas, and it was right next to my house!!) We would get a bottle of wine (occasionally splurge on a port), and sit in our hot tub under the stars watching scary movies from blockbuster online (yea it was a while ago). Or oneparticular night with my friend Brette when we had fondue (melted cheese), bread, and port. That was a night I treasure, for no particular reason. Whenever I need to feel like a grown up, I put on a big thick sweater, pour myself a tawny or ruby port, pretend to smoke a cigar and sit in my big chair sipping and musing while Ella or Louis swirls through the air. (Happens about twice a year). So... needless to say, I was excited to go port tasting, like the old man that I am.
In Oporto, the bus station was further from the tourist area, and I got to see a grittier part of the city. There will still the characteristic flat house style with balconies and tiles, but many were in disrepair. I passed a lady of the night (though it was 2pm), and resisted asking to take a selfie with her, a few people who looked like they were in ecstasy while staring at a wall. So far Oporto wasn't too impressive.
I did pass a few tiled churches and homes, and only a km away was in a nicer part of town.
I went across a huge bridge that I found uncomfortably high, going too close to the edge to snap shots of the coastal city. There were boats below that traditionally transported port from the Douro valley and out to the world. On the map, Sandeman (my port spot) was onthe other side of the bridge, just down the street. What google didn't show was that meant I had to go down at least 10 stories, almost running on the cobblestone to ensure I made my 3pm reservation (where did the day go, right??).
In Sandeman, they have been producing port since 1790. They get red and white grapes from the Douro Valley in Portugal (where temperatures reach over 40 deg C!!), crush the grapes in September, wait until March to begin fermintation, and different than traditional wines, the fermentation process is stopped early with the addition of a distilled wine. This also gives it a 22% alcohol content, so the serving size is greatly reduced. Portugal has a high humidity (yup, check, yes, uh huh) which makes it perfect for aging the casks. White ports ages in large casks for 3-5 years and are typically a blend from different years that average whatever it says on the bottle. Ruby ports age for 5-8 years and are typically also blended, but there can also be vintage years for particularly good years that are certified by an outside body and marked with a single year, some as old as 1904). Rubies can also be aged, though most are younger. Tawny ports are often aged for 20+ years, in small casks so they can take on the oakiness, fruity or nutty flavors of the cask. They turn a caramel color with age, and the casks are reused by scottish whiskey producers because they draw so many amazing flavors from the grapes. The coolest part was the floors - to maintain the humidity they take old large casks (less desireable to whiskey folk) and cut them up into bricks, then leave water out for the wood to soak up and release.
Okay... maybe that wasn't the coolest part. The tasting afterwards was pretty great. Typically an ounce or two of port is enough to make me smile... multiply that by 5. This was no tasting! This was a 'you have the room until 6:30, enjoy!!' And we did! There were three and a half couples there (you can guess who was the half). One couple from England, one from New Zealand, and one from close to home - Montreal. Queen Victoria would be proud of her accomplishments for this English tour! The ports - one white, two ruby, and two tawny were ranging in price and I loved the rubies most. By the time I left, I would have loved anything though. It was a helpful stop to hear what to do that evening in the city from the other folk in the group, and they were the first people I have really had an extended conversation with since I arrived.
I stumbled off, to climb the 10 flights back up and find my hostel so I could ditch my bag. That evening I went to a few cathedrals and to the Saint Francis decommissioned church, which includes a crypt. I was literally running up and down the streets (surprise! Another hilly windy Portuguese city), trying to fit everything in during the last few hours of the day.
(Linds and I saw a huge crypt in Lima Peru this last winter, so this one glimpse of bones was somewhat disappointing. How jaded am I???) I next headed to a bookstore Livreria Lello that was said (by Time magazine) to be a huge inspiration for J K Rowling when she worked in Oporto teaching English. Walking inside the store, it's obvious! The architucture is incredible, and the staircase really looks like it could move. You had to buy tickets to get in, and it was inspiring to be around people who were as excited as I was to be in a bookstore (though likely for different reasons.... I looove books).
It was nearly time for bed but I still hadn't eaten. In fact, I hadn't had a proper meal since I arrived, so it was time. I went down to the waterfront and passed many gorgeous restaurants, with exorbitant prices and amazing-looking food. I eventually landed near my hostel at Route 65, because it was small, nearly full, and had amazing music wafting out. I enjoyed one more port, bread (oh the bread), and ordered what I thought was tapas but turned out to be a meat lovers poutine. It turns out it's a common popular dish here, so yet again I am Mr Bean'ing myself into culture. It had roast beef, ham, sausage, a beautifully moo'ing steak, surrounded by two pieces of bread, cheese, hot peppers, smothered in gravy, and surrounded by homemade chips (accompanied by a port of course). Oh happy accident that brightened my day!! I was especially glad to be consuming such a gluttonous, farm-filled dish before my vegetarian friend arrives....
I went back to my hostel, getting little sleep but enjoying the sounds of so many others having a silly late night. My bag was packed and I was ready for the camino to begin!! Here are a few other snaps of the truly picturesque party town.
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