Europe 2024 - Year of the pilgrim: April 2024

Monday, April 22, 2024

Próxima paragem - who knows

Our preferred mode of travel in Europe is train. Trains are generally quite easy to use, they go almost anywhere, and once you are on them and sat down, they are pretty comfortable. And there is just an atmosphere around European trains and stations that make your holiday seem a little more of an adventure. The trains are always a bit different, the stations and their platforms are often labyrinthine and making sense of announcements is always challenging. But that is all part of the fun. I generally make it my business, just for a bit of fun, to understand some of the key term used. Destinação is pretty straightforward (although we did miss its meaning on the Belém bus), nova hora is not too hard to work out- new hour, so new time ie the train departure has been delayed until…., estaçion is station, but Próxima paragem?? Next stop of course. It was obvious to me, only because it kept flashing up on the train with the name of the next station next to it.

So why am I rabbiting on about train vernacular? Well…

Our departure from Lisbon was going brilliantly. We were up nice and early to perform the magic trick of fitting all our belongings back in our suitcases and have plenty of time before our train trip, for a leisurely breakfast at our favourite cafe where the food and coffee were both great (more on coffee later). Then one last use of our beloved Lisbon card to navigate the metro back to Lisbon Oriente station for our train to Tomar. Again, all performed with great aplomb. We were on the platform waiting for our Tomar train with 20 minutes to spare. How good were we? Well not quite as good as we thought we were. Our train rolled into the platform 15 minutes early, so we thought we would jump on and make ourselves comfortable. No sooner had we got comfortable, the train started moving. Hmmm. A train leaving early just does not sound right. A quick bit of investigation revealed that we had not read the notices properly and we were now on a train going somewhere other than where we wanted to go. Luckily the travel gods were with us and there was just enough time from realisation of our faux pas to the Próxima paragem for me to figure out that our intended train would be following and would stop at that next station, the only shared stop between the train that we wanted and the train we were on. So a hasty exit at Vila Franca de Xira, then a scramble to find the right platform and we were back on track again.

It just so happens that 14th of April this year marks 40 years of marriage for Beth and I, and only to each other I might add. It doesn’t seem that long, which I think is a good thing. So to celebrate our anniversary we booked a nice hotel, and decided to be a bit lazy in Tomar. So we drop our cases off at the hotel and go for a bit of a wander. At first glance there is nothing too remarkable about Tomar. It is a small city, obviously old, but nothing too ostentatious other than the big castle which looms from atop a hill outside of town. The fact that our key point of interest for today is the museum of matchboxes probably gives a hint as to its excitement factor. But as with many things, scratch the surface and you may uncover gold. Turns out that Tomar is an incredibly important city in Portuguese history. Most significantly it was head office for the Templar Knights back in the 12th century, and then to the Order of Christ which replaced the Templar knights when they were banned in the 14th century. So what you say. Why is that such a big deal in Portuguese history? Because a Portuguese prince, Henry the Navigator, was the inaugural Grand Master of the Order of Christ, and from Tomar, he was the driving force behind Portugal’s golden age of maritime discovering and conquering. Anyway - enough of history. Tomar is a nice, unassuming place with a big history and not so many people. I like it.

We head to visit the matchbox museum which is housed in a really old tumbledown building in a hidden courtyard behind a really old tumbledown church. But it is closed from midday until 2:00 for lunch (a quaint siesta tradition - the only thing not closed for lunch are those places that serve lunch), so off to lunch we went as well. The matchbox museum was much more interesting than it sounds. Thousands of matchboxes, mostly quite old, from all corners of the globe. Australia was well represented. I didn’t realise we had quite so many varieties of Redhead matchboxes. Despite it being more interesting than you might expect, it didn’t hold our interest for too long, so we just did a bit more aimless wandering, where we happened upon a Jewish museum and synagogue (circa 1450), which had also reopened following lunch. This held our attention a little longer. It is amazing how high esteem for Jewish commercial and artisanal skills seems always to have been foiled by religious intolerance, and inevitably persecution follows.

Although the day was still young, by this stage we didn’t quite feel the same and decided to just rest up until dinner, for which we had reserved a table at a nice restaurant attached to our hotel. Dinner was very nice, although I am not entirely sure that codfish deserves the reverence afforded it in Portugal. It may be cooked and presented as well as can be, but it is still codfish, the Good Friday staple of my childhood, remembered, but not fondly.

We rounded out our trip to Tomar with a visit to the Convento de Cristo and Templar Castle on top of the hill. It was quite an amazing place. Much of the castle was tumbledown and the gardens a bit overgrown, but this gave it a wonderful atmosphere only enhanced by the glorious aroma of a hundred orange trees heavy with fruit, but dangerously just out of reach. I was willing to risk life and limb for a tasty orange, but Beth said no. If I wanted an orange we would buy one at the fruit shop (I bet it won’t be as sweet thought I). The Manueline monastery which grew up around the castle was in much better condition considering it was 500 to 700 years old. It was a pretty amazing place which kept us occupied for quite a few hours.

From Tomar we moved on to Coimbra. Another small(ish) city with a big history. For a time some 800 years ago Coimbra was the capital of Portugal. It is also home to the oldest university in Portugal, which was originally opened in Lisbon in 1290, but then relocated to Coimbra in 1308. It must have liked its new home, because 700 years later it is still there. We did the mandatory street walk around Coimbra (which is always enjoyable) and visited a few points of interest, but the jewel in the crown here is the university precinct, and once we climbed the hill to get there, we really enjoyed the experience. It even had real live university students, who don’t look that much different to the ones infesting our universities.

Our final stopover before heading off to the Douro valley and Porto is Aveiro. Another small city, this time with no special significance in shaping Portugal. Aveiro is known as the Venice of Portugal because of its systems of canals and the little Barca Moliceiros boats which were used to ferry seaweed (for fertiliser) back in the day, but are now used to ferry paying tourists up and down the canals.

I mentioned before how first impressions count a lot, and this couldn’t be more true of Aviero thanks to Joāo, the owner of the apartment we were to stay in. Before we arrived he sent me a message asking what time we were arriving. As soon as he realised we were going to walk the 600m or so from the station to the apartment he insisted that he would pick us up at the station. Sadly my first thought was that this was going to be an attempt to squeeze extra money from us, but it turns out that he was just a very lovely man. He showed us every inch of the immaculate and exceptionally well equipped apartment and gave us a heap of advice and a box of lovely local sweet Ovos Molos treats (another “what to do with the leftover egg yolks” concoction). When I offered to pay him for the lift, he steadfastly refused, and said all he would like as payment was a hug. We both obliged. It set the scene for a lovely stay. I really enjoyed Aveiro. We rode the moliceiro boats, ate the Ovos Molos, checked out the art nouveau houses of which Aveiro has many, wandered around town and visited a few churches and museums, including the Aveiro museum, which had an extensive collection of stuff relating to the patron saint of Aveiro, St. Joana. St Joana was a Portuguese royal princess (daughter of one of the king Alfonso’s) who took holy orders and entered the convent of Jesus in Aveiro. It appears that the basis for her beatification was that she was able thanks to her princessly ties, to influence the siphoning of royal funds to the church at Aveiro. Oh well, better than some other saints whose godly deeds were far more questionable.

One of the most joyous aspects of our stay in Aveiro was that João’s apartment had a washing machine (in good working order of course) and a clothes drying rack. Which means that we start the next leg of our journey with a suitcase full of clean clothes. Bliss…

The tumbledown Tomar church

Stencilled street art Tomar

Tomar cobbles
With the Templar symbol

Beth found a couple of friends

Naboão river, Tomar

Tomar city square

Tomar castle

A meerkat in the monastery?
No. Just an ornate headdress

Tomar castle

Aqueduct at Tomar castle

Convento de Cristo at the castle

Chapel of San Miguel Coimbra

Reliquary at the chapel of San Miguel

University gates Coimbra

University library Coimbra

University library

University

Misplaced tram Coimbra

Barco Moliceiro Aveiro

Aveiro Canal

Altar at St Joanna’s Monastery
Public purse at work

Painstaking restoration work
St Joanna’s Monastery

Street art Aveiro

Art nouveau house Aveiro

Former Jeronymo Tile factory Aveiro

Casting the nets
Sculpture Aveiro

Thursday, April 18, 2024

Bom dia Portugal

A 5:00 am flight is a disturbing way to start a holiday, but this is what we have chosen to do. I could at this point suggest that the decision was made based upon our deep understanding of sleep science, with the view to improving our potential for avoiding jet lag. The truth however is that the decision came from more an economic than a scientific standpoint . The 5:00 am flight was the best value, and Beth loves a bargain, so we snapped it up.

Despite paying a little more for extended leg-room (aka exit row seats), we endured, more than enjoyed, the flight. I am not sure why this is, but each trip we make over to the other side of the world seems a little more arduous than the last. It surely can’t have anything to do with ageing bodies. I think it must be global warming. Anyway, the flight was reasonably uneventful, but our exit-row proximity to the galley made for some amusement which outshone the excellent Emirates ICE entertainment service. I have always marvelled at the professionalism, deportment and general air of competence and unflappableness (ok, so that’s not an word, but you get my drift) exuded by air crew as they efficiently distribute meals and second guess your every need, all the while looking like they have just stepped out of a salon. Watching the goings on at the air crew nerve centre, which is the galley, shines a new light on the amazingness (whoops, another one of those non-words) of the air crew. Trolley movements were almost slapstick. There were collisions, comical attempts to manoeuvre and outrageously obstructive parking. Food and drinks seemed to be in a perpetual state of motion without getting much closer to the end consumer. The galley was also the space for wardrobe adjustments, makeup fine tuning, down time and gossip. Enough material for a mini series, and certainly enough to keep us entertained for 20 odd hours.

We arrived at Lisbon airport on time in the early evening. Pretty weary, but not too shabby. Happily for us baggage collection and passport/customs control were outstanding and we were quickly out of the terminal and on our way to the underground Metro to find our accommodation on the other side of town.

It is easy to fall into the trap of taking too much notice of first impressions when arriving at a new destination, and that first impression colours your thinking for the rest of your stay. If the first impression is bad, then it can take that place some time to redeem itself (yes Naples, this is you I am talking about). Beth loves efficient public transportation systems, so Lisbon’s inexpensive, easy to access and navigate Metro together with the great airport experience cultivates that good first impression which happily, it does very little over the next three days to erode.

Where to start in Lisbon? Our accommodation was brilliantly placed to walk the major sights of the old district, and we made our start by climbing the hill to the Castle of St Jorge only to be confronted by the eternal nemesis of travellers, tourists en masse. There were two queues to enter the castle. One for those without tickets (long), and one for those with pre-purchased tickets or Lisbon cardholders (less long). Given our love for queuing, we decided to purchase a Lisbon card, which not only shortened the queue at the Castelo de Sao Jorge, but also provided free access to many other Lisbon attractions and as much of the aforementioned public transportation services as we could eat in a 3 day sitting. Unfortunately, purchase of the Lisbon card involved a walk back down the hill to the tourist centre, which was in fact fortunate, because the lovely lady at the centre not only facilitated the transaction, but also, there and then, helped us with our plan of attack to absorb as much as we could of Lisbon in three days.

The Lisbon card proved to be a brilliant purchase, it gave us free access to the Castelo de Sao Jorge, the Belem tower, the wonderful National museum of azulejo tiles, the national coach museum, the royal palace, the royal treasury and a host of other museums. Most importantly though, it gave us access to all trains, buses, trams and funiculars. Which isn’t to say we didn’t walk anywhere, you will be surprised to hear that we actually walked quite a lot despite the opportunity of a free ride.

One of my must-do’s for this trip was to ride the little number 28 tram up and down the hills and narrow streets of the old town. What I didn’t expect was that the tram ride would be quite so close to a roller coaster experience that it was. I am not sure whether it was the tram or the driver, but we seemed always either to be going flat out or screeching to a halt. I swear the driver was trying to do wheelies and get the tram airborne. How we experienced no derailments, pedestrian casualties or damage to other vehicles is beyond me. It was a lot of fun, but I was so caught up in the excitement of the moment that I forgot to watch the scenery as it whizzed past. Luckily we had walked most of those streets anyway.

Also very high on my list was to make sure I sampled the Pastis de Nata (Portuguese tart as we know them), and what better way to sample than at the place where they were reputedly first made. Back in the 18th century, the monks at the Jeronimus Monastery in Belém began baking these sweet little morsels with the egg yolks left over from the use of egg whites to starch clothes. The monks no longer bake the tarts, but they are still baked at (or at least close to) the monastery according to the traditional method. The Lisbon card does not provide free tarts, but it does provide the 728 bus to Belém, which Beth and I quickly boarded early in the day to beat the crowds and secure a table for brunch at the Belém bakery. We were busily patting ourselves on the back for our skill at navigating the bus system when Beth noticed we were heading in the wrong direction. We got the number right, but direction wrong. No matter, we just hopped off at the next stop, crossed the road and waited for the next 728. It’s times like these I am pleased that I have Beth with my. My legendary fine sense of direction would have had me stay on the wrong bus a lot longer.

Despite our slight detour and a gradual massing of tourists around Belém, we managed to get a table and enjoy a very nice pastry based brunch, with the crowning glory being the divine Pastis de Nata. When the time came to leave the waitress asked if we wanted any takeaway. Beth agreed that the tarts were so nice that we could probably treat ourselves to 4 to take away. I pointed out that they came in packs of 6 and it was cheaper that way. So 6 it was. Luckily for me Beth didn’t check my math. They were exactly the same price per tart no matter how many you bought.

I justified the high tart consumption somewhat by the fact that I had gone for a run that morning and inadvertently burned many more calories than I intended. That cranky sense of direction let me down again, big time. When I go for a run in an unfamiliar place, I generally research the route rigorously, and always make sure that deviations are kept to a minimum. More than two or three corners turned and I am playing with fire. Although jet lag has been the least bothersome of all my trips to Europe so far, I had woken quite early this morning, and decided, on a whim, rather than toss and turn in bed, I might as well go for a run. I knew I was breaking the fastidious preparation rule, but how could I go wrong? I had a coastline to follow. Four kilometres out - keep coast on the left, then turn around and come back - keep coast to the right. Simple. I started out well, but a couple of closed roads and dead ends took me away from the coast. I thought I knew how to retrace my steps when my watch told me it was time to turn around, but clearly I was deluded. It was only when I had climbed a particularly steep hill that I didn’t remember coming down that I decided I needed to ask google for help. She did help a little, but I had gone so hopelessly astray that my run ended up 4 kilometres out and 8 kilometres back, plus some very interesting hills google kept sending me up. Oh well, at least I can claim to have seen more of the backstreets of Lisbon than Beth.

Our last day in Lisbon was set aside to visit the town of Sintra about 30 km out of town. Sintra has over the ages been a favoured place by the Kings of Portugal and by the rich and famous generally, and as a result there are some magnificent estates and palaces which have sprung up over time. Our trusty Lisbon card again proved its value to us by funding the train trip to Sintra. Things started off well. Again we were up early to catch a train which we hoped would get us ahead of most tourists. Once in Sintra we chose a brunch place which was a little away from where the tourists massed, and enjoyed a pleasant breakfast. By the time we got back to the station to catch the bus up the hill towards where the grand estates were, the tourist throng was pulsating. We bought an all day ticket for the bus and set off for our first destination, the Pena Palace and booked our tickets which granted us entry in 90 minutes. Enough time for a pleasant walk around the palace gardens before joining the clamour to get in. The Pena palace, built by king Ferdinand II in the early 19th Century as a summer residence for the royal family, is a remarkable place and well worth the visit, but it was very crowded, so we didn’t stay too long. We then hopped back on the bus and visited the Royal Palace in Sintra villa (not sure quite why we needed more than one royal palace in Sintra) and another beautiful estate called the Quinta de Regaliera. We still had a couple of hours up our sleeve, so we decided to catch a smaller bus on a second route which went further up the hill on a very narrow winding road. We waited patiently at the bus stop for quite a while, then smiled as the bus approached only for the smile to be wiped away as the bus passed us by. Patience might well be a virtue, but not one that Beth has lots of, and being left behind by the bus did not make her happy. She decided not to extend her patience and wait at the stop for the next bus, but to march down the hill to give someone a piece of her mind. As she was marching and considering which piece of her mind she was going to give, a second bus passed us by. As you might imagine, Beth’s unhappiness turned to fury. She increased the pace of her march downhill with little bits if steam shooting out her ears and trailing behind her. As we approached the more major bus stop down the hill, where I think Beth thought she was going to find a bus company official to berate, a young lady trying to sell rides up the hill in her car failed to properly read the body language coming from Beth and unwisely tried to engage her in a sales spiel. Needless to say, she backed off and we moved on. At this point a lesser man would given up, but Beth was determined that we would have our bus trip, so we marched further down the hill to the train station and bus terminus. By this stage Beth’s fury had settled, and we patiently waited for the bus, which this time didn’t pass us by. We then had a lovely trip up the hill and a quick visit to the delightful Palace of Monserrate.

Despite the bus shenanigans, the Sintra visit was a great day and rounded out our visit to Lisbon quite nicely. We did quite a lot in three days, but there was much that we didn’t have time to do. Next time maybe.

Now we head slowly toward Porto via Tomar, Coimbra, Aveiro and the Douro valley to start the Camino. Hopefully I will have another blog instalment before we start our walk.