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. 

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. 

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.

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.  

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.

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.

Up, up and away in Lisbon

The lofty heights above Baixa contain some of the more interesting displays of life in Lisbon.......and life abounds in the streets, avenues, squares and of course bars above the lower town. It is in these upper reaches of Lisbon that you really feel like you are part of the mix...Bairro Alto, Chiado, the Alfamo or Graca are the places to whet the whistle.  To get there, one must ascend the steepest gradients by funicular or even by elevador for the highest hills.  You can of course walk but...why?   For such adventures, gird your loins with a Lico Beirao, a traditional herbal liquor that not only girds but also gets you going.

Any Portugal in a storm.....

A quick jump over the salty pond and a whole other world.....


There are few cities that excite the imagination as much as that first glimpse of Lisbon's eccentric centre.......it is truly stunning.  White cobblestoned promenades leading skyward to mysterious lane ways, the dark and looming Castelo de Sao Jorge, funiculars that lead impossibly upwards, Lisbon is my kind of place.  I have perched myself precariously in a small fado club in the Bairro Alto inconspicuously (I think) grazing on a plate of marinated olives and soaking up a delightful local Ginja.  Ginja is a liqueur made from cherry-like ginja berries fermented in brandy.  It is traditionally served in shots with a fermented cherry on the bottom of the shot glass. I have however, dispensed with the cherry for the moment but have followed tradition by downing it in shots (plural).  I will eat the fermented cherries for desert.