Last night we arrived back at the hotel around 11:30 from the Taylor Port Wine Cellar dinner. Being that late and the need to be at a breakfast meeting at 7:00 this morning, I opted to wait to post anything until this morning.
Today was the first official day of the conference. We have 218 people attending from 29 countries.
Not much to tell about the day except for the dinner tonight. The attire was “cocktail dress” – as if everyone has one of those haning in their closet. My mom had made me some beautiful clothes out of organic cotton – so I wore my red dress with matching jacket. Everyone raved – Mom, I’m taking orders J. Now for the story - You must pronounce the way things are spelled to get the full effect. Do you remember me telling you about my cab ride down the narrow winding roads on the way to the restaurant on the river the other night? Well, last night I got to experience that again… but this time in a tour bus! Somehow, I got assigned to the job of “bus captain” for one of the four buses. As such, it was bit like herding cats. Once everyone was on board I took a head count of 51 and realized that the only seat left for me was the “jump seat” at the wall by the front door in the very front. I asked the driver if it was called a jump seat and he said, “I no comprendo”. At first it was quite fun because of the view. Then he gets on his cell phone and eventually pulls off to the side of the road. I look at him and say “what’s the problemo?” He say’s “un momento… (add whatever you would like in Portuguese here)” – I took from it that we were allowing a lot of traffic to pass. Eventually a gentleman from Turkey (whom I visited with quite a bit yesterday) came to the front and spoke to the driver and then looked at me and said, “you ok, Dona?” I said, “what did he say?” He said, “Just don’t worry, everyting fine.” About that time, a bus that had started loading as we left passed us and our bus driver floored it and away we went – I then understood that he did not know his way to where we going. On almost all streets, the bus had to drive right down the center as the streets were too narrow to drive on the correct side. Several times we had to back up and turn again to make some of the tight turns and at times he relied on me to tell him if the corner was going to miss the parked car (EGAD! There is a reason Europe has cars the size of matchboxes!). So, the bus ahead of us turns and our driver looks at the street and looks at me and says – “we go…” and he keeps going straight! We eventually ended up the same place but – yikes – I was nervous wreck when we finally got there!
Anyway! While one group was going through on the tour, we had to wait on the terrace (since we were the last bus to arrive!). It was a beautiful view with a full moon in the background…
Then it was our turn to tour through. I was fortunate to be in a group with a young woman who works for the Portuguese Textile Association and she was telling me little bit about Portuguese history. She said it is the oldest European country. She is able to trace her family back 860 years. The wine cellar that we were visiting opened in 1692. Being from the US those dates just seem unreal to me! It is amazing that anything that can be that old and still be standing. During the tour I saw photos and stood in places that leaders of the world have stood, including, in most recent years, Fidel Castro and the King of Spain.
All of the grapes from the Taylor vinyards are still crushed by foot. They add 70% alcohol to most bottle to aid in the fermenting process, which explains why everyone says that it is so much stronger than anything they have ever tried. I learned that approximately one batch every three years is considered “vintage”. Our tour guide was asked what year was the oldest vintage bottle she had seen – she said they recently opened one at a celebration from 1904. The wooden crates that the wine is stored in are handmade of oak and after use with the port are sent to Scottland or Ireland and are then used to make and store whisky. Here are a couple of pictures from the cellar…
The dinner was very good, it consisted of turkey (the first poultry I have seen other than partridge). The return trip home was quite amusing… if herding cats was not a challenge enough; try herding cats who had been drinking. No one was drunk per say (yet anyway… they brought plenty of wine back with them to the hotel – so far this morning everyone looks a little sluggish and only one can’t seem to find his wallet) … but tipsy would be proper (I have learned how to use the word “proper” this week from my British friends – my favorite was a question asked of me yesterday… “what time does this start proper?” – huh?) . As far as the ride home went – I saw to it that the bus driver I had road up with was saved for the last few people up the hill to the buses as they would obviously be the most tipsy and would care the least whether they got back to the hotel or not. I – being of clear mind – took a different bus :-).
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