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It's mid-morning and I'm already on my first glass of port, a delicious chilled white. There's more on the way, too. The plan is to take one small top up, spend an hour strolling between oak casks in a dark warehouse and return for the reds. There'll definately be a ruby, perhaps a tawny and if my hosts are really feeling generous, maybe an LBV or 'late bottled vintage'. There's much to enjoy in Porto and a tour of its port wine lodges tops my list.

Porto hasn't only provided the British with the means to end dinner parties with this potent brew. The Romans came here to the banks of the River Douro and built a second town. They called it 'Cale' and soon enough the region was known by its twin towns, 'Portucale', and eventually Portugal. Today, the Portuguese seem to relish ridiculing the inhabitants of their second city; they're known as "tripeiros", little tripe, after its local speciality. While this may well be delightful and wholesome fare, I was rather more taken with the possiblities of liquid nourishment.

It's another liquid - the River Douro or river of gold - which has shaped Porto and its precious port. Cutting its way through northern Portugal, the Douro valley and gorge are one of the country's best known scenic highlights. The city's redroofed buildings are piled in tiers down the steep river banks and a pair of Europe's most striking bridges link both sides.

Upriver amidst rocky hills, villages and quintas - country estates - lie Portugal's steep and fabled vineyards. It's said the area's schist soil, baking summers and harsh winters lend these vines essential qualities for good port. Even a quarter of a century ago, some port still came down-river on rabelo boats piled high with casks to be stored in cool port lodges. Today by the central waterfront, a few rabelos remain as quaint reminders of this distant age. Yet the port trade thrives and tours of its lodges are free.

In Vila Nova de Gaia, the central district on the southern banks of the Douro, one can chose from at least 15 lodges. Famous names like Sandeman and Calem are emblazoned on the walls and roofs of their warehouses but even the smallest concerns are happy to receive visitors. Today few port 'houses' remain independent - multinational breweries have seen to that - yet most strive to convey a cosy world where Jeeves still decants his master's vintage.

Port came about almost by accident in the 17th century. Britain's wine supplies from France were often disrupted not by striking lorry drivers but good old-fashioned war so her suppliers turned to Portugal. Since Portuguese wines didn't travel as well, they were 'fortified' with brandy and later, as methods refined, with pure grape spirit. Leaving them to mature in casks or bottles improved things further and France's loss was very much Portugal's gain.

Knowing my limit, I went on two tours. Both followed a similar format of introduction, explanation, questions ("May I have some more?" being particularly useful), and tasting without spitting. It's all very informal and relaxed, and though most lodges have shops selling bottles, glasses and souvenirs there's no pressure to buy. I found Porto's grocers and supermarkets to be cheaper.

Taylor's were the first British shippers to acquire property in the Douro Valley in 1744 and are one of the oldest port 'houses'. While not as prominently signposted as some of the others, their tour was enthusiastic and informative. Following a glass of chilled white, we were taken through vast, dim halls where giant vats and casks held vines of varying vintages, styles and quality. It's a complex drink and though the main distinctions are vintage, tawny and ruby, numerous subtleties range in between.

I was particularly tickled by the business of 'declaring' a vintage. This seems to occur with the solemnity and infrequency of selecting a new Pope (minus the plume of white smoke). Qualities like "austere in its youth, with tremendous depth of flavour and massive structure..." seem to excite the port boffins and I think we'll have to take their word for it.

Indecently refreshed, I trudged off to explore the city. One way to continue the port research is to drop by the 'Solar do Vinho do Porto' or Port Wine Institute. This grand mansion, a glorified bar, stands in the gardens of Crystal Palace Park and stocks hundreds of ports. You can have humble rubies for around Esc150 a glass and taste your way up to a carafe of something called Wiese & Krohn, a snip at Esc25,400.

Yet Porto's appeal extends well beyond port. Visually it's one of Europe's most striking cities and of the four bridges spanning the Douro, the two 19th century ones lend real drama. If you arrive by train, you'll cross the Maria Pia designed by Eiffel (of Parisian fame). On even the most modest stroll through the city one can't miss the two-tier Ponte de Dom Luis I linking the centre with Vila Nova de Gaia. It looks as though Eiffel had a hand in this too and many visitors walk across on one tier, back the other.

I headed up to the nearby terrace of Nossa Serra do Pilar, a church and former convent. Though apparently closed, these are some of the best city views with the Douro itself curving on towards the ocean. The Duke of Wellington planned a surprise crossing here and it's said that as the French fled, he reached their headquarters in time to dine off their generals' plates.

Minutes later, having re-crossed Pont Dom Luis, I plunged into the narrow streets and jumble of houses that comprise central Porto. Laundry overhangs steep stairways that wind up and down the hillside, and these odd quarters evoked both picturesque and squalid decay. The Se, or cathedral, dominates the skyline together with the Archbishops' Palace but it's a bit too barn-like and gloomy to be rewarding.

Perhaps the city's highest accessible point is the Torre dos Clerigos. Built between 1754 and 1763 as a church tower, and once Portugal's tallest structure, you can still climb its 225 steps (76 metres) for terrific views. On a clear day you may even see the mouth of the Douro.

Spend any time strolling this city and you'll notice its famed blue and white azulejo tiles. 19th-century Brazilian emigrants perfected the techniques and styles resulting in huge panels decorating the facades of churches and other buildings. Sao Bento railway station has some of the largest along with those in the Se's cloisters and on Capela das Almas in the heart of the shopping district.

After dropping by Sao Francisco and Misericordia churches - all rococo carving, paintings and even an osseria where thousands of human bones lie waiting for Judgment Day - I emerged by the river near Cais da Ribeira. This is one of the city's most lively areas with dozens of restaurants and cafes lined cheek by jowl on the water front. Touristy but attractive, the shambolic market lends an appealing air of bustle, while the Douro slips by silently towards the Atlantic.

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