Wine at the River
Amarante, Portugal; September 2006
The afternoon deepens into dusk. The sun is still warm in the pink sky. We sit on a terrace that is high above a river called the Tâmega, and this beautiful town called Amarante.
Earlier in the day, we met a friendly local chemistry teacher and he had taken his time to personally guide us into this place. As he led us down the narrow cobbled street to the river and the church on the bridge, it was like discovering a jewel. It is exquisite here.
We walked, following the turns and slopes of the dusty path beside the river. The water is fresh green, it catches the noon sun and shimmers. In places along the way, the water is caught by rock, and ripples and froths before smoothing again.
In the thirteenth century a famous monk arrived here on his return from Jerusalem. His name was Gonçalo. He fell in love with this place and stayed. Gonçalo would later become the patron saint of this city and his legacy is very much entwined with its history. He is believed to have worked to create the conditions that made village life possible here. It seems he was a charismatic man and a gifted preacher, inspiring pilgrims from the road to Santiago to detour for a while and see him in person. 
His Monastery beside the Roman Bridge is at the heart.
And so now we sit on the terrace of a lovely hotel, with a view of Amarante all around. We have been here for many hours talking, my aunt, a friend and me. We sip wines of the region on the esplanade late in the day and it is an afternoon that I wish could go on. There is a small vineyard set into the slope behind the hotel and before we leave, we are blessed to be taken there to see where the fruit grows.
