Douro Valley, Portugal

When it comes to a holiday destination which brings a smile to my face, it has to be Porto. Or Oporto as some say. My experience there was very different as compared to that in other European cities. Porto makes it difficult for anyone to be a stereotypically tourist – striking off must-see-places checklist. No, it makes you get involved, observe, and interact with the locals.

Of course, I had learnt a few customary Portuguese phrases before going.
Of course, I had taken for granted that English will get me by.
Of course, I was wrong!

How it delights me to know that I was wrong. Not knowing the language, in a way, made my holiday filled with beautiful memories and funny incidents. I got a chance to meet with such lovely people, who simply touched me by their kindness and their willingness to offer help to strangers.

The most memorable part of our holiday in Porto was the train ride to the Douro Valley in the interiors of Portugal. This region is best known for its production of port wines owing to a unique microclimate and enjoys the status of UNESCO World Heritage Site. In fact, it is one of the world’s oldest wine regions.

The Douro River forms a part of a natural geographical boundary between Portugal and Spain. Porto is situated on the banks of the Douro where it meets the Atlantic Ocean.

The journey started at the São Bento railway station in Porto. The station walls are decorated with panels of the famous Portuguese blue painted tiles called azulejos. They are painted with pictures showing the history of Portugal. There are around 20,000 of these tiles, a work of art indeed.

The train ran all the way parallel to the river, through the orange orchards and vineyards. Our eyes were treated to a continuous landscape of the Douro River framed by the rocky gorge and the symmetrical patterns of several almost-vertical vineyard terraces.

Most of the tourists got off at Pinhão for wine-tasting at the various quintas. But we had read that the best views are further ahead as the train continues to its destination in Pocinho. All along the way, there were cute little stations and almost all of them were decorated with colourful though predominantly blue tilework.

When we reached Pocinho, we were under the assumption that we could catch the return train in an hour’s time. What we didn’t know was there is a limited service on Sundays. So, here we were, stuck for few hours in Pocinho where there is pretty much nothing to do. We walked to a nearby café for lunch. The lady didn’t speak English and the menu was in Portuguese. But that didn’t seem to be a hurdle. She brought out her notes which had English translations and drawings for various food items and by pointing at different drawings, we were able to communicate what I wanted to eat. It was really funny and a bit child-like but showed how helpful the locals are.

Finally, it was time to board the train and I started talking to one of the fellow passengers. She worked in Porto but her parents were from Pocinho whom she was visiting over the weekend. She was very well-travelled and we kept exchanging stories all through the journey. She had spent a month travelling in Mongolia which I found very fascinating. When we reached her station, we said our good-byes and she got off the train. A few seconds later I saw her waving at me and pointing me to come to the door. She then offered me a whole bag of fresh juicy red cherries picked straight from the trees from her family home backyard. I kept resisting and she kept insisting. Finally, I gave in. To a simple gesture that touched my heart.