Today began with the most magnificent sunrise I’ve ever seen, but the sun quickly exited stage left and gray skies returned. For me, though, the true colors of the morning were red (wine) and white (bread).
After a scenic one-hour ride into the mountains, accompanied by wispy clouds floating just above the Douro, we arrived in the charming town of Favaios. The town is what I’ll call “Portuguese picturesque”: narrow cobblestoned streets, ancient stucco buildings, a plaza with a statue honoring a local notable, and surrounding vineyards marching in rows toward hills dotted with silvery olive trees.
Favaios is at the heart of two Portuguese staples: moscatel wine and “four corners” bread. (I’d never heard of the bread, but as a Duke alum, I like it much better than the “four corners” defense Coach Dean Smith used to employ at UNC when he knew his team was outgunned.)
Our first stop in Favaios was the two-room museum of Pão e Vinho (bread and wine). (Guess how they divided the exhibits.) It’s a cute museum, but not worth a special trip.
Next up was the Cooperativa de Favaios, a company formed by the surrounding farmers to make and market Moscatel, a sweet wine that, in Portugal, is to pre-dinner aperitifs what port is to post-dinner relaxation.
Following the 11 a.m. wine tasting (a bit too early and a lot too sweet for me), we headed to Dona Rosália’s bakery, a hole-in-the-wall shop off a steep alley. (The combination of tracked-in rain and textureless tile floors dusted in flour caused me to wipe out; as I was going down I thought that if I did myself in, at least the aroma was heavenly even if my ultimate destination wasn’t.)
The bread is baked in an oven fueled with pine branches, and a couple of cats wound around the room while we sampled the bread. After the bakery we headed to lunch and a scenic drive back to the ship.
The highlight of the day came after dinner, when my friends and I walked along a riverside path in the cool and only slightly rainy evening air, then came back to place second in a music trivia contest in which enthusiastic dancing (I count on enthusiasm to make up for an inherent lack of rhythm and coordination) counted for part of the score. Our prize, ironically enough: miniature bottles of Moscatel. I gladly gave my share to my teammates.
PuffinlessTravel 