Douro Basics: Gill Charlton cruises the river and engages in gentle hikes to explore the lush Douro Valley in the West of Portugal.

There are no ferries operating on the Douro, but pleasure boats will take passengers and their luggage to Régua and, at weekends, as far as Barca d'Alva on the Spanish border. It is the best way to begin an exploration of port country.
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As we chug upstream in warm autumn sunshine, the high-rises, road bridges and defunct factories soon give way to plantations of spindly eucalyptus and pine. Occasionally, a startlingly modern Grand Design teeters on a rock ledge above the river, but mostly we pass abandoned farmhouses and ragged fields. In places there are boating clubs on beaches of neatly raked sand, though I am not sure I would swim in the khaki-green water.

Almost imperceptibly, the river valley begins to narrow and deepen until outcrops of granite tumble to the water's edge and terraces of vines and olive trees climb out of view. Our 150ft cruiser is lifted up through two locks beside high concrete dams - one of the rare times a commentary interrupts the blaring Portuguese pop music on the PA system. Six hours later, Régua hoves into view: a backwater that appears deserted on a Saturday afternoon.

I spend the first night at the Mesão Frio, a very comfortable pousada created around an 18th-century manor house decorated in azulejo tiles. There are far-reaching views down over the river as it curls away like a silken blue ribbon. The dinner I eat here will be the best of my trip: refined versions of rich regional dishes such as salt-cod stew, and pork tenderloin with pepper sausage and chestnut purée.

Car hire is available in Régua, but I opt for the train as the railway hugs the riverbank all the way upstream. I alight at Pinhão, in the very heart of the demarcated Douro port and wine region, where there is a rare chance to stay on a working "quinta", a country house with a vineyard.

Quinta de la Rosa, owned and run by the Bergqvist family, was first planted with vines in 1815 and produces 200,000 bottles of top-quality port and wine each year. Here it is possible to witness the entire process: from picking and treading by foot in granite lagares (in mid-September) to touring the cellars - where the wine slowly matures in oak barrels taller than a man - and the bottling plant before a leisurely tasting.

The quinta has an enviable situation right on the water's edge. Rooms in the old house are furnished with family antiques, while those in the modern annexe have artisan-painted pieces. Little cork balconies and French windows make the most of the river views and, along the bank, there are formal gardens and a pool. Meals are simple but delicious, served with the estate's own wines.

As well as messing about on the river in canoes or taking a motorboat upstream, there is wonderful walking. I head off up a quiet country lane lined with sweet chestnut, cork and oak trees to the highest point on the estate, 1,500ft above the river. There the Quinta de Lamelas, a 17th-century house, can be rented by the week. Inside there are ornate wooden ceilings, exuberant carved doorways and a vast granite kitchen. Outside, the 40ft pool overlooks a landscape of extraordinary natural beauty, though one created entirely by man. Vine-planted terraces tumble away in all directions, some just a few feet wide. Their retaining walls are works of art in stone. Olive and almond trees edge the path back down to the river through the ordered ranks of vines in their rust-red autumn colours.