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May 11b, 2010 - Duoro Valley, cont.

As we head to the next winery,

Ella sleeps off the previous one.

The Duoro was tough to terraform into farmable land, but now, it is apparently one of two features you can see from the moon (along with the Great Wall).
we heard a lot of this kind of propoganda - not as flagrant as in Russia, but still amusing.

I'm skipping around for a second, but we take a bridge over to the second winery. This one has a view of an impressive, sky-high bridge.
This is to a nowhere town in rural Portugal.

On the way back, we take a different bridge, which has a view of the same taller bridge, a rail bridge, and a third, lower bridge (which is the one we took over that wasn't pictured above).
There are FOUR bridges in this tiny stretch of river - three car bridges and a rail bridge.
You get mixed feelings about their economy when you see evidence of questionable spending like this.

The caped sillhouette stands guard over the Sandeman winery, visible for miles.

Dames and Holly get ready for another tour - and another tasty treat.

After hearing about their wines which include "some of the best... in the world" we head downstairs to see the conditioning room.

Katherine poses by a big barrel,

but Gaby wants a taste.

This is a thing of beauty.

Sergio shows us how to open bottles so old that the port has started to dissolve the cork.
You use a candle and water to crack the bottle below the cork.
You still do this today, though I'd prefer to just not let mine age that much.

Back on the bus after all the wino, Ella gets passed around amongst the drunkards.

Whip It comes on the radio, so at 100km/hr, Kevin and I crank up the dance.
Paul (Evan's dad) joins in!

Apparently, Abigail and I danced after that.

Ella's had a big day and crashes wherever she happes to stop moving.

Scenes from back at the monkey house.

Beth, Katherine, Holly, and Abs chill with some wine.

little Ella-in-the-'hood

The presunto has pretty much had it.
(We fried up some of the last bits, trying for bacon. What we really got the best country ham we've ever had.)

Kevin does the honors, taking the ham out to some woods about 3-4km from our house, and, tied to the noose,

swings it around for a while before launching it up the hill.
Goodbye, Leggy. You were a good ham to us.
You deserved more.

With all of the wine out, the monkey house still has a nice display of dead soldiers after only a few days.