The short answer is, very carefully (and with a good appetite).
More specifically, just follow these steps: First, listen when your friend and Driftless compadre and Tenkara Angler contributor Dave Noll waxes lyrically about mountain fishing in Portugal and the guide he fished with there last year, Antonio Rodrigues of Minho Fly Fishing. Determine to not delay life (and accept that your anemic IRA won’t be enough for a lavish retirement, so what’s the cost of one trip to Portugal?), and book a plane ticket and couple of days with said Antonio. Then keep listening, and book a nice guesthouse Antonio recommends in the beautiful town of Monção on the northern border of Portugal, less than $60/night with breakfast.
Next, pack three favorite rods to cover most scenarios for waters unknown, with some overlap as backup; in my case, a TenkaraBum Traveler 39 (adjustable to 390, 360 and 320 cm); the new NIRVANA Kokoro 360 by DRAGONtail Tenkara; and a TAO Scout (320 cm; albeit a rod now discontinued). With the extended weather forecast calling for highs in the 90sF and sunny, leave waders and boots at home and pack just for wet wading.
Then, stumble upon and read on the plane a sublime book, The Last Old Place: A Search Through Portugal (1992), by an American writer, fly fisherman, trout chaser and keen observer of life and culture, the late, great Datus Proper (Proper died in 2003, properly as it were, while trout fishing in his adopted home waters of Montana). Then make a note to get and read one of his other books, What the Trout Said (1989), about which a fly fishing magazine asked in the title of a review, “Best Book in Decades?”.
After picking up a rental car at the Porto airport, drive north along the coast, along spectacularly beautiful beaches, and stop for lunch at the first sign that says “Restaurante”. Be rewarded with the first of many stellar meals of the trip. God bless continental Europeans and their attention to food. Start with a first course of pristinely fresh mussels, steamed, followed by roast veal from the oven, and of course the wine, always the excellent Portuguese wine.
Get some rest upon reaching your lodgings in Monção, a town with a view to Spain across the wide Minho River. At other seasons Rio Minho harbors Atlantic salmon and large sea-run trout, but Antonio knows you’re a tenkara guy, interested in smaller mountain streams for native brown trout, and head there when he picks you up the next afternoon.
On the drive, take your first measure of Antonio, and realize you’re in good hands. He’s a veteran member of Portugal’s national fly fishing team, and has competed in seventeen world fly fishing championships. He knows a thing or two about finding trout and making an effective presentation once you do.
Next, when the two of you arrive at Rio Mouro, take your first measure of a Portuguese mountain stream. The Rio Mouro is beautiful, absolutely clear, but comes with hazards both above and below. Above, in its many narrow sections, branches of oaks and other trees wait to grab a fly or two. And below, the underwater rocks are as slippery as greased Portuguese pigs. In this warm Mediterranean climate, the stream’s stones have an unnervingly slick patina of algae, and every footfall is a risk. Make a mental note to next time pack felt-soled wading boots for Portugal. In the meantime, caution.
Let Antonio do his thing, and rig for you a dry-dropper with a caddis imitation he tied from the supple feathers around a duck’s preen gland, with a small plume of orange attractor/indicator, and below that a small beadhead with a touch of orange. He’ll also want you to switch from your typical 5x tippet to stealthier 6x or 7x for such clear, invisible water.
If you’re fishing in July, like I was, this is late in the season for Portugal, and the Mouro is significantly narrower and shallower than it was in May and June, with less camouflaging movement at the surface. Take as a good sign that, like you, Antonio puts a high priority on stealth, and keeping as low as possible to stay outside a trout’s Snell’s window of vision.
Stretches of the stream call for a short rod, sometimes down to the 320 cm (10′ 6″) Scout, and it can be challenging to get a presentation undetected to the trout. Rio Mouro is clearer than waters in the Driftless, yet has less surface turbulence for cover than rushing waters in the Rockies, the Alps, or White Mountains of New Hampshire. This is some tricky fishing, and be content to end the afternoon with some takes (and a couple of flies gifted to the oaks) and no disappointment that you didn’t yet land a trout.
The next morning (a blessedly cloudy one), get a bit of recovery from the constricted skunk of the previous afternoon by working a broad, shallow stretch of the gorgeous Rio Minho. Let the TenkaraBum Traveler stretch its leg to the full 390 cm, and work with it only the small beadhead. You’ll wade close enough to the opposite bank that sometimes you’re technically fishing in Spain, but it’s OK. You may not find trout, as I didn’t, but you’ll have fun catching tens of feisty barbel-like fish, boga, a species endemic to this corner of the world.
After the morning’s fishing, head with Antonio for a lunch break at a churrasco, a barbecue restaurant, on the edge of Monção. Tuck into fantastic marinated and grilled pork ribs and chicken, with Antonio’s excellent wine recommendation of course (the wonderful meal is included in Antonio’s guiding package). Chat about trout, the competitive fly fishing world, northern Portuguese food, Portugal’s history and, of course, current American politics (and as little on the last topic as possible).
Accept that there will be no afternoon nap after the active morning and substantial lunch, and return to the mountains and the best water of the trip, Rio Vez. Antonio has already purchased a mandatory, one-day, exclusive permit for a 3 km stretch, at a cost of 6 euros (about US$7). You’ll be the only ones allowed to fish that beat today. Rio Vez looks good – more movement, more complex currents than the gentle Rio Mouro the day before. You think, ‘Now we’re talking’.
Greet a beautiful native steer that shares the bank; it is short in body (for the mountains) but not in the horns – think cross between a St. Bernard and a Texas Longhorn.
Steer greeted, get to work with the Nirvana Kokoro. You’ll proceed with extreme care, and after several splashy misses or refusals, Antonio will recommend stepping things down a bit in both size and color. He’ll tie on a smaller version of the duck butt caddis, absent the orange. A few minutes later, reach a small plunge pool, and agree with Antonio on the play. Drop the fly in at the top and, bam, get a rock solid take and land your first truta portuguesa.
Note how, unlike browns in the Driftless or the Alps, this fish is absent any red spotting; black spots only. It is strikingly beautiful, in an elegant, minimalist way. But it’s not unwaveringly characteristic of the browns of northern Portugal. Working upstream the catching success continues, and the familiar red spotting returns in the next browns brought to net.
When the sun finally drops into the trees, you’ll be feeling the satisfaction of trout success, and starting to think about an excellent dinner ahead in town. Collapse the Kokoro, head to the van, and give effusive thanks to Antonio when he drops you back at your guesthouse.
And that’s about all there is to it. Fishing the mountains of Portugal has some challenges, especially later in the season, and care is needed for both success and safety. But the multiple rewards more than compensate, far more. Eu amo Portugal.
This article originally appeared in the 2026 print issue of Tenkara Angler magazine.
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