Regua and the Douro Valley

Lightning does strike twice and the music went on and on ….and on. Each time the band started a new song, I would think this must be the last one, but no, there would be a small break and another cover version of some long forgotten crappy rock anthem would start. When they eventually did finish at 2.30am, there were lots of loud goodbyes, car doors slamming and driving aways.

My anger was more directed at our host Ines, for her sneaky request for payment upfront (no abandoning ship in the middle of the night possible for us) and her slightly guilty look when i asked if the “party” would be noisy.

Our annoyance and request for a refund for the following 2 nights (music “party” went on all weekend) was met with a teenage style strop – much slamming and scowling – but she did give us our money back and after a pathetic breakfast we were on our way to new digs in Regua.

Regua is on the Douro river and we were pleasantly surprised at how pretty it was. I was so tired, i felt as though i was swaying on a ship, so what better activity to do than go on a boat along the Douro.

The Dorou valley is wine growing territory so we spent a relaxing afternoon admiring the vineyards that cling to the hills either side of the river. There’s money to be found in grapes as many of the old quintas have morphed into modern, boxy, glass structures, no doubt costing a pretty penny.

After arriving in Pinhao we caught the train back to Regua, had a quick shower at our hotel ( the hotel Regua Douro, whixh despite lukewarm reviews on booking.com is perfectky fine with superb air conditioning) and out again for dinner.

All was fine until our charming waiter informed us that a “ very exciting event” was happening tonight. I felt a slight sweat break out the mention of an”event” and he went on to tell us that there was a bikers convention and a big music festival was being held – just up from our hotel. Noooooo!😫😱

We had noticed a load of bikers around town with nice messages like “kill” on the back of their jackets but had thought they were just on a day trip.

Steve suggested we take up smoking, check out the stage and “accidentally “ flick a fag butt onto it and burn it down. I thought that was a bit excessive but we did wander down to see where it was all happening and actually ended up having a lovely walk along the old railway bridge which has been pedestrianised.

There was indeed a bikers convention taking place with much revving of engines and a cloud of testosterone hovering above the campsite were the festival was taking place.

It was 10.30pm and no music had started yet – of course not, nothing starts here at a civilised time. Midnight is a much better time to start ramping up the sound systems.

We got back to our room, battened down the hatches, turned up the air conditioning, installed the ear plugs – tomorrow would we be staggering around all day like Chinese torture victims or would the hand of fate decide we’d had enough punishment for whatever we did in the first place? Sweet dreams

” align=”alignnone” width=”3264″]Regua