The N222 between Peso da Régua and Pinhão gets called the best drive in the world often enough that you arrive braced for disappointment. It does not come. For twenty-seven kilometres the road clings to the Douro's north bank, climbing and falling through terraced vineyards that rise from the water in green steps to the skyline. The river below is wide and slow and dammed, and everything smells faintly of warm schist and grape.
This is not a road to hurry. The camber tilts, the hairpins stack up above the river, and there is always a tractor or a wine truck around the next bend. That is the point. Drop into a low gear, let the engine hold you back on the descents, and drive it at the pace the valley sets rather than the one you brought with you. Every switchback opens a new fold of vineyard.
Pull in at the quintas — the wine estates that terrace these hills — because most welcome walk-ins for a tasting on a terrace above the river. Quinta do Bomfim in Pinhão and Quinta do Crasto further west both pour ports and table reds with a view that does half the selling. Go easy if you are the driver: the estates are generous with the pours, and the road down is not one to take loosely.
Across the water, the old Douro railway line traces the far bank, and if you time it right a two-carriage train will slide along below you, tiny against the terraces. Stop at the Pinhão station to see the azulejo panels of the harvest, then take a river cruise or simply sit on the quay. The valley works on you slowly, the way the wine it makes is meant to.
Stay the night if you can, because the light at either end of the day is the reason to be here. Dawn burns the mist off the river; dusk turns the terraces to bronze. Then drive the N222 back the other way in the cool — the same road runs completely different westbound, with the low sun in the vines and the water gone dark below.