Saturday

Just a walk in the park...



Well, didn't they do well?  You really can't go past the Brits for putting on a rum bit of pomp and ceremony can you?  Bunting, flags and nutters aside, London itself is resplendent with blooms and happy smiling faces and one really must not miss the opportunity to wander through the greenery, if not just to recover from the celebrations of Friday.  In this amazing city of hustle, bustle and "...ello Governor" I have taken time out to smell the roses, claim a deckchair in Hyde Park and enjoy a quiet nip of Ardbeg Old Malt Cask, a delightfully smooth single malt whisky straight from my Asprey's hip flask.

Monday

Within a lion's roar...


What a beautiful time of year to be back in the Old Dart.  Yes, after being pickled in port for a few weeks, I felt that I really must be in London for the up-coming nuptials.  And of course, the city is positively heaving with anticipation of the day. Bunting everywhere and a buzz on the streets that is difficult not to get caught up in. I have however, found time to wander through the park and meander along the Thames to, what I think, is one of the most stunning institutes of art in the world... the Tate Modern.  Marvellous!! 
In celebration of my return, I thought it most fitting to rest the bones at a small establishment within view of the lions of Trafalgar Square  and within a lion's roar of the abbey.  A perfect place for a rousing gin and tonic, made with one of my favourites, Tanqueray Rangpur, with a wafer thin slice of lime on the side. Chin chin!!

Friday

A night...and day on the tiles.



I survived the cellars and, might I say, it was like frolicking in a vat of mead except, thank goodness,  it was port. After some considerable and serious recovery,  and a great deal of reflection, it occurred that one can't go past a Good Friday without some sort of pilgrimage to a construction of God.  I have never seen such suffering and blood letting than I did in the churches of Porto. Amazing iconography...so dark, portentous and reminiscent of my old gothic friend Nick Cave, the old churches of Portugal are indeed amazing. The tiles that embrace each haven of worship tells a story of epic proportions that one can only marvel at the skills of the craftsmen that dedicated themselves to the construction of these glazed wonders. In benediction and supplication, the only suitable honour is the consumption of a sweet dram of Benedictine...that sumptuous liqueur made of herbs, roots and sugar with a base of Cognac.  These churches must be seen to be believed...and I feel blessed. 

Kept in the dark...



Life is not all beer and skittles, there is of course...port.  The Gaia waterfront of the Rio Douro is completely dominated by the many lodges and warehouses of the famous port companies, each beckoning to the many purveyors of the noble juice by spelling out their names in huge letters across the roofs.  Of course, one can always follow one's reddened nose into the dark cellars of choice to sample the odd tawny and a grand ruby.  My choice has turned out to be... to follow my nose to as many cellars as I can possibly squeeze into one afternoon and still remain upright!!! I have however, decided not to keep you in the dark and have lined up an absolutely ambrosial drop of Cockburn's Vintage Port 2000 to begin my descent into pleasure. It is dark, big, fruity and sweet and perfectly wonderful. 

Thursday

A bridge almost too far...


Porto abounds with excitingly sloping boulevards and visually remarkable landmarks, all exciting to the senses, but by George, it does make for a bit of a puff to get around.  Few cities of the world are built on the edges of a ravine but when you find yourself thrust onto the edge of one of these cities, one just must investigate every cranny and nook to the best of one's abilities, succumbing to the temptation of exercise. So where better to launch oneself into the unknown..well slightly known......but on the southern bank of the Rio Douro where the production and consumption of port takes on bodily and biblical proportions. It seems a bridge too far but I do find the bridge that seems a tad too far, and cross to the other side...and quench the thirst... and might I say, any future temptation for exercise, with a delightful Agres Bohemia Reserva 1835. This is a refreshing auburn beer, and just the thing to cleanse the palate before going down to the ...cellars. 

Saturday

Where I hang up my coat...



I don't often wonder at the glory of a hotel but I must say, after a pleasant evening on, at and in Porto drinking port oh! it is indeed a blessing to have somewhere to luxuriate and put ones feet up.  The perfect place to settle in for a few days and explore the many ante-chambers that line the staircase.  The Grande Hotel de Paris in Porto's city centre, has all the trimmings  of a tarts boudior and the comfort of an old pair of slippers and smoking jacket.  The hotel retains a great deal of its period furnishings and even has a splendid drawing room where an ample and nourishing breakfast is served.  It wears its age well and has a crumpled glory that makes one feel at home.  Glory truly abounds this evening and I have treated myself to a very special Graham's Vintage Port 1963, a superbly balanced blend of fruit, tannin and elegance. I can't say enough about this very special tipple so I will say no more

Thursday

Oh! Port in Porto (Oporto)

Well, I must say I have had a wonderfully leisurely two day trip by slow donkey cart to arrive finally at...Porto.  It must be said and said over and over again that Porto is one of the most spectacular and scenic cities in the world! And of course...it is the home and namesake of one of the worlds most popular tipples... and one of my favourite libations...port.  
Much of riverside Porto, or the bairro of Ribeira, has been declared a UNESCO World heritage Site.  It really does have something to interest everyone.  Please enjoy as I relax in a wonderfully inspiring cafe on the waterfront of the Rio Douro and settle in to my first..no doubt the first of many...Sandeman Vintage Port 2007.  This particular example from one of Portugal's most famous cellars, is of an opaque purple color, almost black. The aroma is of ripe red and intense black fruit aromas. One can also detect hints of pepper and clove.  I am truly in heaven and don't plan on leaving any time soon. We have only just begun.

Monday

The strange beauty of Sintra....




If it's good enough for Lord Byron, it's good enough for the Baron.  The summer residence of kings, Sintra is a delight to the senses.  The town itself gently loops around green and shady ravines and abounds with castles, palaces, mansions and even more of those insane follies that I am now used to seeing in Portugal. There is even more than a passing hint of the old bubble bubble toil and trouble in Sintra ....  it has been a centre for cult worship for centuries. Keeping with the theme, I have engaged in a bit of worship myself with a Niepoort Douro Charme 2007, a rich elegant wine with fresh cherry and raspberry aromas...a tipple to surprise and delight even Queen Mab herself.  

Sunday

Fresh air and folly...

A bit of a day for putting your feet up. It is after all the day of rest and a perfect opportunity to go "up river"  to take in the salt air and appreciate the vistas of broader Lisbon.  With a breeze gently ruffling my hair,  I find myself drifting towards...yet another example of this city's exuberances.  The Torre de Belem is an extraordinary whimsy of architecture.  A myriad of turrets with more than a hint of my former Moorish stomping grounds.  I have found a delightful little park opposite in which to sit and contemplate why on this earth, anyone would build what can only be described as a remarkable folly. I love it...and love it even more with an icy cold Cintra Cerveja Pilsen, a very pale beer with a light tobacco aroma.  Perfect for an afternoon under the cool shade of a spreading tree.

Saturday

Silly as a wheel...

Just when you think you have a handle on a city...something beyond imagination pops up.  The police in Lisbon are not known for being nimble of foot but boy can they get around!  I fancied that I had had one too many the evening before..I probably had...but no, it was the real deal.  They cruise up and down, and no doubt all around, the Rua da Prata.  (Note the amazing cobblestones)  
I an attempt (or excuse) to recover, I have treated myself to a mid afternoon Lancers, a refreshing medium sweet, sparkling rose, which is produced by J. M. da Fonseca.  Perfect for a guilty pleasure.

Friday

My kingdom for a horse....and a castle

You can tell a lot about a city by its castle and the Castelo de Sao Jorge of Lisbon is no exception.  Lying within the Moorish walls, the terraces, fountains, gardens and ....peacocks lead you to magnificent vistas of the city all the way to the ocean beyond.  I am sure that this most splendid monument could reveal some of the less savoury chapters of Lisbon's past, but I prefer not to ask.  Instead, I intend to enjoy a delightfully cheeky Pasmados Vinho Tinto, a slightly raw but passable red, perfect for a quick quaff to start the evening.