Portugal seems to be the land of the blue painted tile, an illustrious title. They are everywhere, as exterior cladding on buildings, as interior decoration, and as far as the eye can see. This is Porto train station, where, after saying goodbye to Warren's sister Angie, the two of us got a 2 hour train east, to Pesa da Regua.
The train took us along side the Douro River, in a region surprisingly called the Douro Valley. It's full-on port country with vines lining every inch of available space, so with nothing else to do we popped along to a local winery for a little tour, some port tasting, and a superb lunch of "Steak de Portugeusa". Clearly we needed a little snooze after such a tough day, which we did before getting up for the world cup final in a beatiful spot right on the river, a rather timid affair compared to the rowdiness of the semi final win in Leon, Spain. This is Portugal after all...
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