After the cool and damp of the Atlantic-influenced Bairrada, the sun came out in the Douro Valley. My brief visit there, organised by the promotionally astute Douro Boys, who are well represented in any discussion of the Douro on this site (see, for example The New Douro, tenacious and original), included transport by car, train and boat, the latter the most relaxing and outrageously beautiful. (My photo below shows the boat motoring up-river towards Quinta do Crasto, on whose terrace I was standing.)
My two days with the Douro Boys were characterised by an appreciation for longevity...
