Douro, of Love, of reflection, of family, of adventure and of silence... I admired horizons and I thought that, in the illusion of my gaze, the river seemed to end there. In the distance I gazed at terraces so aligned that they seemed perfect and green staircases to heaven. I looked at the powerful sun reflecting in the waters and I thought it was gold! No, it wasn't... I have the gift of marveling and here is paradise.
The river did not end after that curve... it continues to the sea, the vines are not perfect... but they are real and they own this nectar and the river is not golden... It is Douro. Things are how we see them, how we are and feel... They are our realities, filtered, perceived and mapped. A toast to the Douro.