A few centuries ago, some British families decided that the vineyards of the Douro Valley in Portugal is where they would make their fortunes. Today, their names — lit bright like beacons — are hoisted above properties on the steep bank of Vila Nova de Gaia, announcing where their “bottled sunshine” is stored in case you were in the mood.
Today, I ventured to the furthest port lodge, way up in the hills, to join a group of Londoners here for the weekend. Yes, I ventured beyond Taylor’s and my favourite terrace this time, believe it or not. I plan on visiting all the port wine lodges at some point, but gauging by how quickly port goes to my head I ought to space out this testing over a decade.
A few pictures while I edit the rest.
November 20, 2015
Album: Portugal [Autumn 2015]
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