Batalha, Fatima, Nazare & Obidos: Travels around Portugal

I'm wrapping up with final views of sites from my trip to Portugal. It doesn't feel like several weeks have already passed. In many ways, the trip has been memorable and will stay with me for years. On the last day, I got to do an eight-hour driving tour to several sites. First stop, Batalha in central Portugal, was built to commemorate Portugal's rout of superior Spanish forces during the medieval period.  Fatima is a place of devout pilgrimage for Christians. Nazare is a picturesque village on the Atlantic coast and boasts some of the best, freshly-baked Portuguese rolls I have ever tasted. Finally, Obidos is another medieval site, boasting towering ramparts and some of the sweetest ginga I have ever tasted ( don't tell my doctor!). Our guide, Pascoal (incidentally, easy on the eyes but unfortunately, married) picked us up early for a fun-filled fascinating day, through the hills, valleys and coasts of Portugal.



Batalha Monastery

Batalha Monastery
In 1383, Portugal faced a deepening crisis. King Ferdinand I had died after losing two sons in 1380 and 1382. He left in his stead his 10-year old daughter, Beatriz, who had married King Juan I of Castile only five months before. On his wife's behalf, King Juan pressed her claim to rule Portugal. The country's aristocracy feared it would be absorbed as part of the Spanish Crown. Beatriz's illegitimate uncle, Joao who was then the Grand Master of the Military Order of Aviz became King of April 1385. Castile invaded Portugal, with the support of his allies from Aragon, Italy and France. King Joao prepared to meet his enemy with the support of the English, whose help was secured by Joao's marriage to Philippa of Lancaster. The alliance of 1373 between Portugal and England has been cited throughout the subsequent six centuries by both sides.   

Nuno Alvares Pereira

The command of Portugal's forces belonged to Nuno Alvares Pereira, who eventually became canonized in 2008. He began life in the country's army when he was 13. King Joao relied on his steadfast support as mastermind of the strategy against Castile, at the age of 23.  On the north side of a small hill, surrounded by creeks, Nuno drew up his army of 6,500 men which included 100 English longbowmen. The Castilians arrived, numbered 31,000 strong. When they saw that the better position was occupied, they rounded the base of the hill and moved to the south, which took several hours. The French cavalry supporting Castile charged in an hour before sunset, but the English bowmen and Portuguese archers devastated them. Within an hour, both sides had committed their forces but the victory clearly belonged to King Joao and his commander Nuno. The Portuguese forces numbered less than 1,000 dead. Castile has lost 10,000 of its men. It would take several more battles with Castile to finally allow Portugal's famed commander the peace he deserved. In 1411, Castile recognized King Joao's line as the legitimate rulers of Portugal. Nuno had a daughter who married into a future Portuguese royal house, the Braganza dynasty. He retired to a Carmelite monastery in 1423 and died eight years later. The 1755 earthquake destroyed his tomb.

Construction at Batalha started in 1385 and ended in 1517. King Joao, his Queen Philippa, and their sons Pedro, Henry the Navigator, Joao the Younger and Fernando are buried there, in addition to other monarchs. While it suffered some damage in the 1755 disaster, it was only until the mid-1800's when the monastery was abandoned. After its restoration, Batalha became a UNESCO heritage site.

Fatima  
I'm amazed that a site bearing a Moorish name is also home to pilgrimage for Portugal's Christians. The names supposedly derives from that of a Moorish princess, who after being captured, converted to Catholicism and married a Christian count. In 1917, Fatima gained attention because of the apparition of Mary, mother of Jesus which appeared to three children, 10-year old Lucia Santos and her cousins, Jacinta and Francisco Marto. The siblings died two to three years later, but Lucia survived until 2005, during which time she became a Carmelite nun. The sight of penitence and devotion by pilgrims arriving at Fatima on their knees fascinated me. They had a long way to travel between the entryway and the shrine. On opposite sides, the new and old cathedrals of Fatima tower over their heads. Some pictures from Fatima:

Old cathedral of Our Lady of Fatima

Cathedral entryway

Inside new cathedral of Our Lady of Fatima

Statue of Pope John Paul II at Fatima

View of Nazare from the cliffs

Nazare
According to legend (or our guide Pascoal), a medieval monk brought a tiny statute of the Virgin Mary from Nazareth to this little Atlantic coastal area, from which the name of Nazare derives. I was surprised that the women of Nazare wear seven skirts - no explanation was provided for why. I stopped at a little grotto, called a chapel, atop a nearly sheer rock face. Going down the steps to see the statue that came from Nazareth, you have to duck your head a little or risk banging it into the stone ceiling. Not for the claustrophobic! The rocky crag has another legend associated with it. A 12th century nobleman was hunting a deer near the edge of the rocks and when it disappeared over the cliff, he almost followed. He prayed to the Virgin Mary to save him and his devotion helped him survive. Too bad about the deer.

Nazare on the Atlantic

I had lunch at a seaside restaurant, one of the best shrimp omelets I've ever had and  fish stew, but I would have been equally satisfied with the fresh-baked Portuguese rolls the server offered. Imagine hot crusty bread, steam still rising from the center. It's very similar to the salt bread I grew up on in Barbados. The dining experience was completed with this beautiful view of Nazare's coast. I hope when I have the chance to return to Portugal that I'll have more time to explore Nazare.

Obidos' medieval rampart

Obidos
Lastly, Pascoal took us to the medieval town of Obidos, which had the feel of Segovia's walled enclosure, but somewhat less majestic. The whitewashed houses and their terracotta roofs line narrow, cobblestone streets, all in the midst of 13th century walls. There had been settlements at Obidos since the Roman times, which passed into the hands of the Visigoths and then the Moors, until 1148. In Obidos, I had this sickeningly sweet liqueur from the ginga berries, in a chocolate cup. It was an extremely sweet ending to a memorable trip. Driving back to Lisbon, I reflected on the journey. I doubt it will be another 10 years before I'm back in Portugal, or Spain, to experience more of the cultural beauty each country has to offer. Thanks for visiting the blog and sharing my journey.   

Lisbon, the city by the Tagus

Model caravel, symbol of Lisbon

I wonder whether my Portuguese teacher, Professora Nunez would be happy to know that fifteen years after she tutored me in her language, I finally got to use it! And, people in Portugal actually understood what I was saying to them. And, equally as important, I actually understood their replies. No puzzled or blank stares on either side. God know what they thought of me after I had left the shops and restaurants, but while I was there, I didn't get the "ignorant American" looks.

Welcome to my view of beautiful Lisbon in pictures. I had never been to Portugal before, never even considered it, even though I spent nearly two years learning Portuguese at college until the university cut the language program. Sometimes, I just do stuff ass-backwards. I immerse myself in studying Spain's Moorish period, find many sources in Spanish and learn only a fraction of the language, which would have helped my translations. Yet, I spent nearly two years on a language it would take me fifteen years to use again. Go figure.

Before I left Spain, I realized my study of Brazilian Portguese wasn't exactly going to help me in Lisbon. The differences between the language spoken and written in Brazil versus its mother country may seem subtle, but they are as similar to variations of English in America and England, like check vs. cheque or tire vs. tyre. So, boa tarde (good afternoon / early evening in Portuguese) may be spelled the same way in both countries, but in Portugal, the letter e is not pronounced. In most of Brazil, it sounds like boa tard-ee, the emphasis on the letter e and particularly, in Rio de Janiero, it would sound like boa tar-jay. Basically, I had to un-learn the pronounciation of a language I hadn't spoken in several years. I also had to forget certain phrases and learn others, like putting aside Onde e o banheiro (where's the bathroom in Brazil) for Onde e a casa de banho in Portugal.

Since my flight originated in Spain, I did not have clear Customs in Lisbon, which was a little of a surprise. Wish it had been so easy on the return trip, but that's a story for another time. Within a twenty-minute ride from the airport to the hotel, first impressions of Lisbon filled my head. It doesn't have an ancient, historic feel like Madrid, but there's a very sad reason for that. On November 1, 1755, a devastating 9.0 magnitude earthquake and tsunami waves, more powerful than the recent events in Japan, hit Lisbon. The Tagus receded, exposing the river bed and then rushed inland. Nearly 40,000 died, at least eighty-five percent of the buildings toppled and the tsunami waters reached as far as my birthplace in Barbados. As a result, many of the city's buildings are at most three centuries old.

For two days after my arrival, I got to see several sites driving around Lisbon. It's filled with rich culture, good food, friendly people and fascinating monuments. Instead of telling you all about them, I'll let a few pictures show you the fascinating cultural beauty that makes Lisbon a memorable place:



Lisbon's cobblestones



Waiting outside National Museum of Coaches
(not the handbags. Horse-drawn carriages)



25th of April or Salazar Bridge in background​, built by same designers of
Golden Gate Bridge in San Francisco



Equestrian troop outside National Museum of Coaches



Floor level at National Museum of Coaches

Ceiling detail, National Museum of Coaches

Baroque-style Coach

Catherine of Braganza, wife of Charles II of England

Eighteenth-century livery of coachmen

Cloister ceiling detail, Jeronimos monastery



Cloister garden, Jeronimos monastery



The tomb of Portuguese explorer Vasco de Gama

Masonry detail, Jeronimos monastery



National Museum of Tiles

   

Wall tile detail in Belem restaurant



Violin



This little delicacy, pateis de Belem, has got to be the. best. custard. tart. ever.
Indulged in one. Don't tell my doctor

Next week, I'll wrap up my tour of Portugal. Thanks as always for visiting the blog.      

Being There: Avila

 

The medieval walls at Avila, with non-medieval people walking around

Taking a break from SampleSunday on Twitter. Instead, I wanted to devote a few posts to my recent trip to Spain and Portugal. It was one of the best and most memorable vacations I've had in a long time.

I haven't been in Spain since November 2001 and I'd been planning to return. It won't be another 10 years before I'm back. To truly paraphrase Gertrude Stein, Barbados and America are my countries, but Spain is my hometown. Considering that I still speak bastardized Spanish (enough to get me around without looking like an "ugly American" - more on that later!), people are often surprised by my affinity for Spain, its people and culture. Dependent on if I win the lottery or wait for retirement in an odd 30 years, if you want to look me up in the future, I'll be at a white-washed, two-storey house on the Cuesta de las Tomasas, in a hillside neighborhood in Granada called the Albaicin, enjoying an amazing view of the Alhambra every morning.

If you've ever noticed the header of this blog, "The adventures of a struggling New York writer who'd rather be in medieval Spain," you've probably figured out how much a tour of Avila meant to me. First off: getting there. In the comfort of a coach bus, somewhat bleary-eyed, I set off early on the morning of Friday, February 18, leaving the hotel in the urban Madrid town of Torrejon, which has an almost industrial complex feel to it.  

Atocha Station, Madrid. Yes, those are palms.

I headed for Atocha Station in central Madrid. Atocha is not only a metropolitan hub for the local train lines operated by RENFE; you can link to other transportation services throughout Spain. At left, what the people of Madrid think a train station should look like. Grand Central Station has nothing on Atocha.

After a few wrong turns (come on, it's impossible NOT to get lost when you speak a bastardized form of a beautiful language) and a little meandering, met up with the tour guide with the easily remembered name of Lisa. She pointed out various sites along the way as we began our drive down the Gran Via, which looks a lot like any congested street during an early morning commute. Traffic jam? Check. Great, I definitely feel right at home.

La Gran Via, on a normal traffic-clogged day


While Lisa (the tour guide, not me in some weird guise) talked about all the great things we would see on this day trip to Avila, with a second stop at Segovia (next Sunday's blogpost - stay tuned!), I forced myself to wake up and pay attention to my surroundings as we were leaving the city. I'd been in Spain since early Wednesday morning; 3am in New York City, I'll have you know, and had taken a tour bus that day to get acclimated to central Madrid. It is truly one of the most beautiful Spanish cities, home to the Prado Museum, which I'd managed to get a shot of the day before the trip to Avila. You can't tell from this shot but the line around the Prado was ridiculous. Why didn't I go in? If you know me, you know how much I love HATE waiting in long lines. Maybe the next trip to Spain will include a tour of the Prado. Is there like an off-season at that place? Sheesh.

Prado Museum, Madrid

If I wasn't such a medieval buff, I could have found myself happily enjoying the sights of Madrid alone, but part of why I'm so enthralled by this country is its early history. Another thing; Spain has the most fascinating contrasts of colors. Okay, let me stop right there. If I wanted to, I could probably come up with 100 things that make Spain super amazing, but if I had to tick off just a few, I'd start with it's history and geography. It's a land of varying browns, red ochre and greens. I'd never seen sage-green grass before but managed to get a shot of it on the later drive to Segovia, which doesn't quite do it justice. Still, you'd get the general idea. Spain is also a country of amazing mountainous views, with steps hills and wide valleys. The colors and terrain shifts as you move northward. Driving from Madrid up to Avila, you climb slowly, and those reds and browns become more startling. Then, you see this:


Snow-covered mountains on the way to Avila

Again, taking photos with my Blackberry's camera isn't going to quite do this vista justice, but it was truly one of the most amazing sights of the morning sun glinting off pristine, snow-capped mountains. Within 20 minutes, the tour bus was on the outskirts of our first stop.



Avila is one of Spain's oldest cities and, as our tour guide explained, has existed as a major settlement from pre-Roman times. After the Moors invaded Spain from North Africa, Avila remained in their hands until the late eleventh century. The plan for its medieval walls, which encircle the old city limits, started in 1090 to keep out future Moorish incursions. Avila is the birthplace of Saint Teresa, one of only three women recognized by the Catholic Church as a Doctor of the Church. It is also home to many religious monuments, including cathedrals and convents and the mini-palaces of the nobility. Sights include the Basilica of San Vincente, Monastery of Saint Thomas, San Jose Convent, San Juan Bautista Church and Los Davila Palace. A few shots around Avila follow.

Which way to Segovia? Oh, that way!

Next Sunday: Segovia, where Isabella of Castile was crowned and married Ferdinand of Aragon, a city of medieval stained glass and the Alcazar of the Spanish royals.

Thanks, as always, for stopping by the blog.
             



Avila's Medieval gateway

 



Entrance at Avila's 12th century Basilica de San Vicente



Another shot of the Basilica



 



Avila's cathedral tower



Cobblestone streets at Avila



Birth place of Saint Teresa of Avila