Photography

Sunday Post : Surroundings

Jakesprinter’s Surroundings look beautiful this week, as he lounges on the shore and waves to a passing boat.  Often enough I, too, sit with a beautiful vista before me.

Fountains playing in Lagos

Lagos fortress and old harbour

Taking to the sea, beneath Ponte da Piedade

And returning, surrounded by stacks

Boats on Tavira Island

And trees

And the setting sun

But today I’m feeling sad for all those people whose surroundings are miserable. People whose homes have been damaged by flood and fire, from Hurricane Sandy and all of nature’s extremes.  People who live in poverty.  People throughout the world who are confined by harsh leaders, or are victimised for their differences.  People who in this time of financial squeeze are struggling to maintain a grip on their surroundings.

And of course, on this, Remembrance Sunday, I’m feeling sad for those who risk their lives for us daily, often in grim surroundings.  My thoughts are with those whose surroundings are so much less desirable than my own.

Thanks, Jake, for this opportunity to share my good fortune.  Lest we forget.

Six word Saturday

Ever had one of THOSE weeks?

Who hasn’t?  Everything slips through your fingers, like butter.  Catastrophe slides in upon catastrophe.  If you read my Richmond post earlier this week, you’ll know that things didn’t quite go to plan on Monday.  Still, I managed to have a lovely day.  So when I met my Nordic walking friends on Thursday, I should have known I was the jinx.

The plan was to meet at Grosmont, on the North York Moors, ride the steam train as far as Goathland, then walk back to our starting point.  We’ve already done this earlier in the year, and I wrote about it in Steam’s up in North Yorkshire.  Someone forgot to consult the railway timetable, however, and in November- guess what?- there are no trains.  Ah well!  We’re all relatively fit, and fortunately, it was again a pleasant day, so- a double dose of Autumn colour.  We walked there and back again, just stopping for our picnic and a brief look around in Goathland.

Bit of a climb up first- isn’t there always?

Nice view back down. There was a steam train on the platform but no passengers allowed.

It’s always nice to follow a stream

A woodland sculpture along the way

And a nosey sheep! Seems the privet is quite tasty.

It’s a bit tiring on your hind legs, so he settled for grass.

The village of Goathland appears regularly as  Aidensfield on the TV programme, “Heartbeat”, and attracts lots of visitors because of that.  It was lovely to see it bereft of people on a crisp Autumn day.

There’s a cluster of shops and tea rooms, and a couple of village pubs.

“Aidensfield” stores

And post office

I loved the metalwork on the tearoom windowsill

And it’s not everywhere you can buy gollies any more! Anyone remember Robertson’s marmalade and collecting the badges?

Proof that it’s Goathland, not Aidensfield, in reality.

Eventually we had to set off back again.  The shadows were lengthening by the time we approached Grosmont.

Almost back to Grosmont again

Tired walkers troop downhill

Made it!

How to salvage the good out of a “dis-aster, Darling”!  (You do watch “Strictly”?)

Hope your week was better organised than mine, but no less lovely.  Many thanks to Cath at Show My Face for the opportunity to share.  The header and links will help you join in, and see what everyone else has been up to.

Wynding through Richmond in Autumn

My best laid plans have a habit of going awry just lately.  I have a long standing wish to do the backstage tour at the tiny and exquisite Georgian Theatre in Richmond, North Yorkshire.  I reasoned that my November birthday, with the current unsettled weather, would be the perfect occasion.

Leaving home in the rain, I was delighted to find blue skies in Richmond.  I went straight to the theatre for the hourly tour.  But, no!  The backstage tours finished yesterday, I was told.  I have one of those faces which feelings rampage across- nothing is hidden.  The receptionist hastened to assure me that the theatre was being readied for the upcoming production of “Calender Girls” and then panto season.  Taking pity on me, she asked if I would like just a little peak behind the scenes.  What could I say?

Georgian Theatre, Richmond, viewed from the Gallery- by Cloud9 Photography

It looked nothing like this.  All was in darkness save for a spotlight, which wandered around the stage looking for that perfect spot.  The 18th century theatre is Grade 1 listed, and the oldest theatre still in its original form in the UK.  The Woodland Scene in the above photo was painted soon after the end of the Napoleonic Wars, and is the oldest piece of theatrical scenery in Britain.

At least the weather was on my side.  Richmond is a beautiful little market town with the River Swale running through it.  The castle, with its imperious keep, towers 100 feet above.  The town was founded by the Normans in 1071, with the castle at its heart.  Narrow lanes or wynds link the wider streets.  Wynd is the Old English word, meaning “to spiral”.  Crossing the broad cobbled Market Place, inevitably, you are lured down to the river.

The bridge straddles the River Swale

Trees line the river, below Castle Walk

The Autumn colour contrasts wonderfully with the darkly swirling river

Sunlight glints beautifully off the water

You can hear the thunder of the falls as you approach the corner.  Once there, I always have to linger, mesmerised by the rush of water.

I love the noise and exuberance of the water

There’s always a bed of rocks for scrambling across, though I’m content just to look these days.  Too easy to turn an ankle.

Tricky customers, those rocks

A last look back at the falls

Another bridge hoves into sight

Here you have a choice.  You can follow the river on either bank.  If you stay on this path you can take the Drummer Boy walk to Easby Abbey.  This day I wasn’t wearing suitable footwear and was happy to cross over the bridge to The Station.

Now this is a rather special place.  It’s great for a cuppa, or maybe to pick up some books cheaply (as I did).  It also has craft shops, and an icecream makers, and in Summer you can sit outside with your choice.  What I especially like is the use of the old station building as an art gallery.  Some very interesting exhibitions take place.

Looking down from the gallery into the body of the station

Current exhibits, by David Clarke Palmer

I thought these were quite clever

Light floods in through the ceiling

It’s a train- of course!

It’s great that this building has been so lovingly restored.  The Heritage Centre in the Ticket Office tells how it came about.  As I strolled through the town I had observed that the French restaurant, “Rustique”, in Finkle St., was open.  Mondays are often closing day in these parts so I was very happy to return there for my celebration lunch.  Very nice indeed.

Which riverside path to choose, to return?

My well-earned luncheon venue, “Rustique”

Richmond has many interesting nooks and crannies, but today I’ve restricted myself to the riverside.  If you would like to read more about the Wynds and the town itself, in my sidebar there’s a piece called Romantic Richmond and its Ivory Tower, which I wrote a couple of years ago.  I often seem to find myself there in Autumn.

And the Georgian Theatre?  I guess I’ll just have to settle for a production instead.

Sunday Post : Wonderful

Jake’s back, and how wonderful that is!  In case you’re “wonder”-ing, yes, I did go to the fireworks last night.  The tide was coming in as I walked along the promenade, and there was a delicious whoosh as the sea met the shore.  The white caps in the darkness were beautiful- just one of the many wonderful sights that make up this world of ours.

I’ve never witnessed any of the spectacular world-renowned sights that fill our world with wonder- the Grand Canyon, the Great Wall of China, Macchu Pichu…  I’m going to start small, with the things that are wonderful to me.

Lisa, on the beach at Scarborough

My wonderful firstborn child.  I make no apologies for the quality of the photo, which is 38 years old.  What you can’t see from this shot is the absolute fear which gripped me that day, as I thought I’d lost her, there on the beach.  Or the relief when she was returned to me, wailing, as I frantically combed the beach.  Or the wonder that she is now a fullgrown and beautiful woman.

James, by the lakeshore at Fuschl, in Austria

Nineteen years behind his sister, James brought his own wonder.  Here, I think he’s wondering which piece to move next?

When it comes to family, it doesn’t get more wonderful than the reunion that brought my Dad together with his brothers and sisters in Poland, after 64 years of separation.

Together, at last, in Poland

So that’s the sentimental part.  For me, it’s always wonderful to wake to the sun, rising in the sky.  The sky and the cloud formations are endlessly fascinating as the sun climbs up through them. 

An Algarve sky has a different quality.  The view from my Tavira rooftop is wonderful to me.

And the sky so often ends up purest blue, reflected in the sparkling sea.

Just now and then, I can capture some clouds.

Often they build towards the end of the day, then it’s over, as wonderfully as it began.

What do you find wonderful in the world?  There is so much to celebrate, and Jakesprinter works hard every week to share with us his talent.  He would love you to share your world too.  Don’t worry- he’s always kind.  Follow the flying dragon or the links to join us.

No song this week?  My friend Madhu says “What a wonderful World”, but I was singing that old Jimmy Ruffin song.

Six word Saturday

Firework Display or Strictly Come Dancing?

Fireworks over Hartlepool Headland- courtesy of Tony Dowson

Beautiful aren’t they?

I can almost hear the “ooh”s and “aah”s

I was born on Guy Fawkes Day, so fireworks on Bonfire Night always seem like a personal celebration for me.  I’m like a big kid when I hear the “whoosh” and “zip, zip, zzzip”.  But I hate the cold.  Our town firework display takes place on the seafront, and as parking is always an issue, involves an invigorating walk beside the sea to get there.  The lights of the boats twinkle far out on the water and on a sharp frosty night the stars are needle bright.  Romantic, but cold!

So usually I wrap up warm, and we make the bracing walk, then come home smelling of smoke.  This year I’m not sure if I want to.  The Winter seems to have come around too fast, and I’m just a little sad.

Inimitable compere, Brucie, with dazzling Tess Daly

Flavia’s flying!

Temptation beckons in the form of “Strictly Come Dancing”.  I love the show with a passion and have done since its beginnings.  I even watch the fanzine every night!  For a whole half hour the laptop is switched off (well, sometimes) as I watch the dance sequences over again.

The past few years we’ve recorded the show while we’ve gone to the fireworks, then there’s something to look forward to when the “ooh-ing” and “aah-ing” stops.  Shall we do that again this year?  I’ll have to wait and see.

None of the images are my own this week.  My very talented stepbrother, Tony Dowson, is a professional photographer and took the fireworks shots when the Tall Ships came to Hartlepool in 2010. (what an occasion that was!)  The others are borrowed from Strictly.

Are you joining in with Cate’s challenge?  The details are all in Show My Face, or you can simply click on the header.  Have a happy and safe Bonfire Night, and wrap up warm.

P is for Porto

You knew it was coming!  The final post on my visit to Porto.  Just one more time I’m going to take you there, and try to capture the impact it had on me.

Looking out to the river mouth (Foz do Douro)

I’m not sure if it’s because it’s a northern city that I felt such an affinity with Porto.  At home I’m used to the north/south divide and the differing attitudes of the two.  Being “from the north” confers a kind of backward status, despite us having some beautiful cities of our own.  I felt a little of the same in Porto.  Like us north-of-Englanders, Porto is far from feeling inferior.  It’s proud of its past, and fighting for its future.

Barcos rabelos below Dom Luis I Bridge

The lovely Porto skyline

In Roman times, the twin cities at the mouth of the River Douro were known as Portus, on the right bank and Cale, on the left.  During the Moorish occupation, the entire region between the Minho River, to the north, and the Douro, was called Portucale.  When Afonso Henriques founded the new kingdom in the 12th century, and became its first king, he named it Portucalia after his home province.  So you see, Porto and the Douro are an integral part of the Portuguese nation, and have every right to be proud.

They’re quite feisty too.  Porto is known as A cidade invicta, “the invincible city”, because of its unparalleled resistance to Napoleon during the Peninsular Wars.  In modern times too, the city was the centre of opposition to Salazar’s right-wing dictatorship.

You can’t get much closer to the river than this cafe

One of the best things I did in Porto, and I would recommend it to anyone relatively fit, was the free walking tour with Pancho Tours.  I had in mind that the person we would be meeting beside the Dom Pedro IV statue in Praca da Liberdade would be a guy sporting an orange t-shirt emblazoned with the company logo.  Wrong!  A small, dynamic, curly haired bundle of fun by the name of Iris was our guide.  She proceeded to entertain and enthrall 24 of us multi nationals for two and a half hours!

Our tour group, captured by my husband, Michael

As you can see from the photo, there are many ups and downs involved in a walking tour of Porto.  It wasn’t an historical tour, but gave you a real insight into the city and an appetite to come back and see more.  At a brisk pace most of the important sites were pointed out, with essentials like the cheapest places to eat good Portuguese food, and where to buy the best cakes. (everywhere!)  Believe me, in Porto you’d soon burn up the calories.

One of the high points of the tour (literally) was the upper tier of the Dom Luis I Bridge.  The Metro rumbled past perilously close behind us, but the views were staggering.

Michael’s again. The steps or the funicular?

We wound our way down the steps to the quayside, and, tour over, indulged in a meal in Iris’s company.(our feet needed a rest and it seemed a good opportunity to try the Francesinha– a chunky spicey meat-filled toasty smothered in cheese and served in a piquant sauce)

Riding the cable car over Vila Nova de Gaia

Back on my feet again, I couldn’t resist a ride in the cable car over on the Gaia side of the river.  I love a bird’s eye view!  My only complaint, the ride was over too quickly.   I compensated later by riding the funicular up to the clifftop.  It’s only as it glides into the old city walls that you realise how solid they once were.

Still chasing views, and with a fresh pair of legs the following day, I undertook the 225 steps to the top of the Torre de Clerigos.  This six-storey granite tower was built in the 18th century as a landmark for ships coming up the Douro.  Well worth the climb!

The tower has some interestingly shaped windows

The view from the top

For a change I found myself looking up when I visited the Palacio de Bolsa, the former Stock Exchange.  The palace can only be seen as part of a half hour organised tour, but I was keen to see the famed Arab Salon.  Loosely based on the architecture of the Alhambra, it was without question built to impress, and it did.

The internal courtyard in the Bolsa Palace, decorated with heraldry

Just like my ceiling at home (er, not quite!)

The stunning Arab Salon- courtesy of Wikipedia

Not all of Porto is quite so perfectly preserved, and it’s part of the gritty reality of the place that the ramshackle lives side by side with the chique.  The indoor market at Bolhao was decidedly shabby, but for the people selling their wares in the little kiosks it was their whole life.  Iris informed us that it was soon to be another casuality of the city, as there are simply insufficient funds to restore it.  I was glad I saw it when I did.

Bolhao’s indoor market- courtesy of Michael Bradley

Cherubs on a peeling wall, Rua de 31 de Janeiro

Renovated, and not, opposite Sao Bento railway station

One of the shinier, newer parts of the city came as a real surprise to me.  I had little idea what I would find at Foz do Douro, other than the river mouth, so I mounted the tram with real excitement.  It trundled out along the shoreline with wonderful views to either side- the houses tumbling to the water on the one, and the ever widening river on the other.  The tram ends at Passeio Alegre, and from there you can stroll and stroll.

The lovely old tram, complete with lady driver

The view back towards Porto

Forte de S. Joao Baptista da Foz

Suddenly I was at the seaside, with the tang of the salt air, and the snap of the waves.  The sunshine was radiant and I collapsed at a bar to feast on the sparkling water.

The waterside world in Foz do Douro

Squishy loungers were severely tempting

I wished I could have spent more time in this lovely spot, and if (when!) I return, I will certainly do so.  The tram has two routes and after I’d struggled up the steep incline to reach the gardens of the former Crystal Palace, I discovered that one of them bypasses the gardens.  It’s a peaceful spot, and I guess the views down to the river were compensation for the climb.

The Jardins de Palacio de Cristal- Michael does distance shots much better than me

You’ll notice that I haven’t even mentioned the “A” word once?  Azulejos, that is.  The reason of course is that I went to town on them in my Simply Beautiful Blue and White post.  If you didn’t see it and are thinking of coming to Porto, please take a look.  It might just convince you.  I still haven’t managed to fit everything in.  It’s probably a capital offense but I didn’t even mention port-wine tasting!  Well, you know I do my share of that anyway.

For now, I’ll leave Porto, with lots and lots of beautiful memories.  Many thanks to Julie Dawn Fox for giving me the opportunity to post this in My Personal A-Z of Portugal.  If you haven’t already seen her A-Z Challenge, click on the banner below.  It might give you some ideas.

Six word Saturday

Somebody out there likes my blog!

It’s been a “heart it” sort of week, if you know what I mean?  My last post, H is for Happy Heart, seemed to make quite a few people smile, myself included.  Smiles are always welcome, so I thought we’d share another heart or two today.  The city of Guimaraes in Portugal was full of them.

I seem to’ve been blessed with a bundle of blog love lately, and I’d like to pass some of it on today, if you’ll indulge me just a little.

Who doesn’t need a bit of sunshine at this time of year?  Autumn in Bruges (isn’t that a lovey name, and very appropriate right now) was kind enough to nominate me for the Sunshine Award.

Izabela Benisz suggested I was a Beautiful Blogger.  I usually scurry past mirrors these days, but it’s a lovely thought!

Deepali passed on the baton for the Adventurous Blogger Award.  I’m still trying to shake my head clear of Portugal so I haven’t started plotting my next adventure yet, but it’ll come!

I’m going to put these bright new jewels in my sidebar and on my Awards page.  Please spend a little time with each of the bloggers.  They’re all very deserving recipients and I’ve enjoyed reading many of their posts.

Never short of an idea or three, Alyson Sheldrake, painter extraordinaire and the authoress of the Algarve Blog and The Thought Palette (another blog name I really love) has initiated a new award, Blog of the Year, 2012.

Here I quote Aly:

The ‘rules’ for the award are simple:

1 Select the blog(s) you think deserves the ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award

~ 2 Write a blog post and tell us about the blog(s) you have chosen – there’s no minimum or maximum number of blogs required – and ‘present’ them with their award.

~ 3 Please include a link back to this page ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award – http://thethoughtpalette.co.uk/our-awards/blog-of-the-year-2012-award/  and include these ‘rules’ in your post (please don’t alter the rules or the badges!)

~ 4 Let the blog(s) you have chosen know that you have given them this award and share the ‘rules’ with them

~ 5 You can now also join our Facebook page – click the link here ‘Blog of the Year 2012’ Award Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/groups/BlogoftheYear/ and then you can share your blog with an even wider audience

~ 6 As a winner of the award – please add a link back to the blog that presented you with the award – and then proudly display the award on your blog and sidebar … and start collecting stars…

There are a total of 6 stars to collect. You begin with the ‘1 star’ award – and every time you are given the award by another blog – you can add another star!

Thanks Aly for your nomination, and also to Julie Dawn Fox, who was kind enough to nominate me too.  I’ve since collected stars from The Travelbunny and Francine in Retirement, so that makes four!

I find it very hard to select from the blogs I regularly read.  They all have something to offer, and they all are giving of themselves.  When I look in my Reader, certain blogs almost always command my attention and so I will focus on those.

The Travelbunny  Suzanne has travelled to more places than I will ever reach, some of them exotic locations that I truly covet.

On the Luce  Likewise Lucy, who always seems to find hidden gems and great tips wherever she goes.

Jakesprinter regularly knocks me out with his Sunday Post.  How he achieves his amazing graphics is completely beyond me.

Just a Smidgeon is one of the most beautifully crafted blogs I have ever seen.  I’m no cook so it’s a measure of her talents that Barbara always induces me to read her posts,  although I’ve never yet baked anything.

This man’s Journey  Island Traveller is a man of enormous compassion and love for his fellow beings.  He makes me feel humble.

Third Eye Mom  Nicole has the most amazingly generous heart, coupled with a love of adventure and the great outdoors.  The photos alone make me drool.

Once again I have presumed on Cate’s good nature, and have stretched my “six words” to the very limit.  I may have to resign from this challenge!  Please check out Show My Face and you’ll get an idea of what I’m supposed to be doing.

Thank you for all the kindness and “likes” we share.

H is for Happy Heart

Guimaraes, European City of Culture 2012

I was immensely taken with the heart logo which pops up everywhere in Guimaraes this year.  Designed by Joao Campos, it was inspired by the crenels of Guimaraes Castle and the helmet of King Afonso Henriques, the first king of Portugal.

I couldn’t be so close to Guimaraes without paying a visit in this, its special year as the European City of Culture.  “You are part of it” is a theme running throughout the year, and the logo is an important symbol of this. You might enjoy the promotional video  http://www.guimaraes2012.pt/index.php?cat=49&item=912&kword_cat= (choose 2012) I caught the train from Porto’s fabulous Sao Bento railway station to arrive on a sleepy Tuesday afternoon.

I didn’t know quite what to expect of Guimaraes, except that it would have a historic significance for the nation.  Everyone I had spoken to said it was very charming and captured “traditional Portugal”.  Of course, you know by now what traditional Portugal means to me, so, at the first hint of an azulejo, I was in through the doorway of the church of Sao Francisco.

Igreja de Sao Francisco

More cherubs!  I’m happy.

Michael’s photo of the altar was much better than mine

Guimaraes has its origins in the distant 10th century.  The widow Countess Mumadona Dias ordered the construction of a monastery in her estates at Vimaranes (Guimaraes today).  Constant attacks from the Moors and Normans necessitated a fort to defend the monks.  The Castle was built on a nearby hill, and a settlement grew up between the two, enclosed by walls.

In the 12th century, the County of Portucalem came into existence and the Castle became the residence of Count D. Henrique.  King Afonso Henriques was probably born here, and christened in the tiny chapel.  In 1128 the nearby Battle of Sao Mamede was instrumental in the founding of the Portuguese nation.

Modern Guimaraes from the castle walls

Walking back down from the vantage point of Guimaraes Castle, you cannot but be drawn to the Palace of the Dukes of Braganca.  I have visited the marble enhanced Braganca Palace at Vila Vicosa, and was intrigued by the difference.  Built in the 15th century, it is a unique example on the Iberian peninsula of a fortified house in the manorial style.

Braganca Palace with its distinctive chimneys

A collection of tapestries adorn the walls

A central courtyard captures the sunlight

The city’s first street, Rua de Santa Maria, unravels gently into the cluster of the old town, but not before you pass through Largo Martins Sarmento.  The fountain, with chapel beyond, makes a pretty picture.

Largo Martins Sarmento

The narrow streets wrap around two large squares, Praca de Santiago, and Largo da Oliveira.  The photo everybody’s keen to take features the old Council Chambers and Gothic Salado Monument.

Largo da Oliveira and Salado Monument

The square seen from beneath the old Council Chambers

Nice spot for a coffee, or something stronger

At the end of the 19th century, Guimaraes achieved city status, and sadly the city walls were demolished.  Let me end in Largo de Toural, the focal point of modern Guimaraes, and outside those city walls.  The legend “Aqui nasceu Portugal” – here Portugal was born- sits proudly on a remnant of wall.

One last heart in modern Toural Square- another Michael photograph

The old centre has UNESCO World Heritage status and this year every effort has been made to turn Guimaraes into an inviting tourist destination.  If you like what you see, there’s still time to visit.  The events are posted on www.guimaraes2012.pt

Me, I have a “happy heart” whenever I’m in Portugal.  Many thanks to Julie Dawn Fox who gave us the idea of “My Personal A-Z Challenge”  Follow the links to discover more, and maybe join in yourself.

Sunday Post : City

When I was 18, all I wanted was the city.  And what a city it was!  London- fun, fashion and the centre of my universe.  Jakesprinter has reminded me of that, with his theme for the Sunday Post this week, City.

Covent Garden, where the entertainment’s always good

The Fan Museum in Greenwich, such an unexpected treat

The skyline with it’s newest addition, The Shard, climbing upwards

As I grew older, it didn’t seem the place to raise a family.  I returned to my northern roots.  But the city was never too far away, whether I needed culture, or just a place to crane my neck to look up at the sky.

Note Newcastle’s moody northern sky

Still, you couldn’t want a finer cityscape than Gateshead’s Millenium Bridge

A city with more serenity- Durham, clad in its Autumn colours

But not lacking for a spectacular, and cultural event- Lumiere 2011

Life can be quixotic, and for me this came in the form of my Polish family, rising from the embers of the past.  The cities it brought me to explore were survivors, and especially beautiful for that.

Coach and horses in Krakow’s mighty Rynek

All of Krakow’s history is on display on Wawel Hill

Talking of survivors, where better than Warsaw’s Stare Miasto?

Or the Rynek (market square) in Wroclaw

Wroclaw has cultural humour too, with its army of gnomes

I don’t truly consider myself a city person any more, but just sometimes I lose my heart to a city.  (You knew there was a song in there, bursting to get out, didn’t you?  Yes, I always did want to see San Francisco, but I haven’t made it there yet)

I expect you know the city I’m talking about.  I’ve talked about nothing else since I got home.

It’s a city full of colour

Beauty

History

Life

Trams

Boats

Character

Amazing churches

And azulejos, of course

So yes, I have lost my heart to a city by a bay, but it’s not San Francisco.  It’s Portugal’s fine northern city, Porto.  As usual, I have Jake to thank for allowing me to share these memories, old and new.  What does a city mean to you?  Jakesprinter’s bound to have lots of great examples.  Follow the links or click on the flying dragon logo to share.

More blue and white, with a splash of gold

It’s no secret that I love the gentle blue and white of azulejos.  But gold?  That’s where the River Douro glides onto the scene- a golden river.  When I looked out of my bedroom window that first morning in Regua, I was so excited to see the mist swirling delicately at the end of the garden.  I could barely wait for breakfast to head down to the riverside path and the gleaming water.

Sunlight glistens on the water, from the riverside path

I love a stroll- don’t you?

I planned to see as much of the river as I could, but was thwarted at the outset.  The boat to Barca D’Alva at the Spanish border was not running.  It was low season and there was no longer a demand.  I resigned myself to following the river upstream on the train- no real hardship as, from Peso da Regua to Pocinho, the tracks hug the river bank.  First stop, delightful Pinhao, sleepy in the morning sunshine.

A barco rabelo awaits passengers at Pinhao

Of course, you know what else I found, don’t you?

A railway station covered in azulejos- perfection! (Michael’s photo, this one)

And then you have the splash of golden yellow, too

I so love these boats- one day I’ll have these tiles on my Tavira home

The wine harvest

More boats- what else?

I couldn’t resist a sashay through the fabulous Vintage Hotel, and even an expensive glass of wine on the terrace. (Michael blanched at the price, but you only live once, don’t you?)  Couldn’t afford twice!

The Vintage Hotel, Pinhao

Just to prove I was there

A novel ticket sales office

The occasional boat disturbed the peace

Time to get back on the train for the ride up to Pocinho, through increasingly rugged territory.  Apologies for the blurry images out of the train window.  I had to try.

At Pocinho we hopped off the train and back on again, as the sun was starting to sink.  Just time to capture a quick azulejo on the platform.

On Pocinho platform

Regua, as the sun sets on the Sandemans figure on the hillside

Azulejo, Peso da Regua-style

With a train strike in the offing and a shortage of boats, I wasn’t sure how I was going to get back to Porto.  Luck was on my side, however, and Tomaz do Douro came to my rescue.  On the quayside the crew were readying the “Via Douro” for departure.  She was unbelievably beautiful!

Via Douro with tiny Porto Cruz moored alongside

All aboard!

Porto Cruz pulls away and we’re ready to cruise

Those last 3 photos are Michael’s.  I seem to have done something strange to my camera in the excitement of the moment, and launched into landscape mode!

Never mind!  The next 6 hours will forever be etched on my memory.  In the company of a young American couple (who later revealed that they were on the last day of their honeymoon!) we dined very nicely indeed, and exchanged travel tales, while gazing out at the sublime scenery.

The deepest lock in Europe provided hoots of laughter as we were briefly splattered with water in passing underneath.  Then the wonderful moment of sailing into Porto itself.  The sun sparkled on the quayside, and Porto rose majestically above us.

Sailing beneath Dom Luis Bridge, the walls and funicular

Moored at the quayside, the former Royal Barge, Spirit of Chartwell

What a journey!  What an ending!  I hoped you enjoyed sharing it with me.  For yet more blue and white, my previous post focuses on azulejos in Porto.   https://restlessjo.wordpress.com/2012/10/16/simply-beautiful-blue-and-white/