For the first three days my mom and I were in Lisbon, and then
we headed up to Porto to board a small cruise ship and set off to explore the Douro River Valley.
The Douro cuts across the northern part of the country, through one of its main
wine producing areas. Spectacular scenery floated past us: terraced vineyards
spilling down steep mountains to the river’s edge, with olive trees and
lavender interspersed to prevent erosion.
Ancient quintas, or
Port wine estates, grace the hillsides, ranging from grand manors with
internationally recognized names such as Sandeman
to rustic cottages.
My favorite thing about Portugal, aside from the magnificent
scenery, is how unspoiled it is. It’s not overrun with tourists; in fact, as
our small boat cruised down the Douro, it was not uncommon for locals to stand on the
banks and watch us go by, waving cheerfully. They marveled at us with almost
the same fascination as we marveled at their terraced neighborhood.
There’s an old world authenticity in the villages and even
the cities, such as Porto, center of the Port wine industry. I wasn’t very
familiar with Port before this trip, having only had bad, cloyingly sweet Port
(most likely fake, produced elsewhere) on a few occasions. Real Port is
something to be savored: complex, full-bodied, and silky smooth. Thanks to
visits and tastings at several quintas,
our palates became well educated.
My mom loves good food and wine as much as I do and believes, like I do, that it’s one of the best ways to get to know another country, so we took the opportunity to enjoy long lunches and sample all the local delicacies—from salt cod
to octopus,
from custard pastries
to a myriad of sausages
and the ubiquitous ham.
Portuguese wine, too, is excellent, but not exported to the
US very much (except for Vinho Verde) because they don’t produce the quantity Americans
would demand. The reds are surprisingly good, possessing an oomph similar to a
Spanish Priorat or Ribera.
Fish and seafood are abundant in both the markets
and the restaurants. Simply grilled with a little olive oil
and lemon, it doesn’t get any fresher than this.
Caldo verde, a cabbage or kale soup with a puréed potato
base, can be found on almost every menu and makes for a tasty, quick lunch.
The cheese is excellent too, and of ample variety. My
favorite was an aged goat cheese dusted with smoked paprika. It was the perfect
accompaniment to a glass of Port at the end of dinner.
At some point during the trip, I realized that this was the
longest uninterrupted time I’ve spent with my mom since I left home for college.
And even then, as a teenager, I was caught up in my own life and wasn’t at home
very much. My mom and I share a love of travel and adventure, so experiencing
this trip together as two adult friends was special and gratifying. Sometimes, though, it was also a
little disorienting. I found myself being simultaneously that daughter who was buried deep within my middle aged self, while at the same time I'd be skyping with my own teenaged daughters about their high school dramas, my head swirling as much as the water outside our tiny cabin's window. Perhaps this is simply what midlife means: to be in the middle, in every sense of the word, not only of the number of years
(hopefully) that we’ll live, but also of our life, in all of its complexity and fullness.
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