Given their geographical intimacy, you might not expect to notice much difference crossing the border from Spain into Portugal. There is no border now for non-commercial traffic, so blink and you'll miss the "Portugal" sign. Driving changes immediately though. The speed limit on Portuguese roads is higher than Spain and a favourite “sport” on freeways seems to be high speed tailgating. The language is quite different, food and eating habits are different – tapas is out; vegetable soup, sardines and cod (the national dish) are in. Port rather than sherry and a local favourite (at least in Lisbon) – ginjinha, which despite of its name is a very potent fortified wine infused with cherries and ginger.
Old Knockers and Ugly Men
Our first stop was in the pretty central Portuguese town of Evora, with its UNESCO World Heritage designated city centre
. The city was founded by the Romans and until the late 16th century was a favourite residence of Portuguese kings. Its prominence faded somewhat after that, but UNESCO helped put it back on the map again. Many of Evora’s narrow streets and alleys are named for the activity that featured their during its heyday, including one that is variously translated as the Alley of the “Masked Man” or “Unshaven Man”, but our guide assured us that this was were “ugly men” lived and that sounded like the best translation! I’m not sure that there was a female equivalent, but just about every doorway in the town is adorned with an old knocker, so Alley of the “Old Knockers” would have been too confusing! All that aside, a prominent feature of Evora is its plethora of churches. The most remarkable is the 15th century Church of San Francisco, in itself nothing much out of the ordinary until you come to its 17th century add-on, the “Capela dos Ossos”, the Chapel of Bones. This was created by a bunch of monks who felt that their ability to meditate and contemplate would be enhanced by being surrounded by human bones
. So they went around the town and dug up 5000 graves and created a chapel lined with the skeletal remains (all except lower jaws – they didn’t want the skeletons talking back). The highlight of this attractive piece of church history is a couple of leathery corpses, one an adult, the other a child, hanging by chains from one wall. The inscription over the entrance roughly translated reading “We bones that are here await yours” completes this bizarre site!! I suppose it was fitting that we stayed the night in a hotel (pousada) converted from a 15th century monastery. The rooms were converted monks’ cells (one plus half of the adjacent cell as the bathroom) and the dining room was formerly the monastery’s cloister. The food was probably better than the monks ate, but the beds were hard enough to satisfy the most penitent monk!!
Shabby Chic
If anything reminds you that Portugal is on the edge of Europe and somewhat of a bridge with South America, it’s Lisbon
. It’s not a very large city by European standards, Lisbon has a centre built on several hills overlooking the Tagus River. Each hillside district constitutes what amounts to a distinct village. Narrow streets and alleyways, crumbling staircases linking streets on different levels of the hill and decrepit-looking buildings everywhere, mostly converted into apartments, but interspersed at ground level with small bars, restaurants, “corner stores”, undertakers, barber shops, bakeries…..everything a village needs to thrive and be self-sufficient. Power lines, internet and TV cables are strung everywhere along the walls in a mess of wires that would not look out of place in a Rio favela. Lisbon was almost completely destroyed in a massive earthquake and series of tsunamis in 1755 and so was largely rebuilt from scratch. So many of the buildings in the “villages” date back to the late 18th and early 19th centuries and most don’t look as if they’ve had any repair work or painting carried out since! This is partly a consequence of convoluted Portuguese inheritance laws so that in many cases, nobody is too sure who actually owns the building. But in the warm sunshine, this shabbiness is the charm of the place. Lisbon is considered to be one of the safest cities in Europe and people are welcoming and friendly. We found out about all of this, because we were staying right in the heart of one of these “villages”. You never quite know what to expect when booking a place on the internet, but in this case, we struck gold. The apartment we stayed was in fact a complete 19th century house, owned and fully renovated by an American couple who had moved 10 years ago to Lisbon on a short-term contract with Habitat for Humanity and never left. At the very end of a narrow alleyway, the house is perched on the side of a hill with views from its rooftop terrace over the centre of Lisbon. Just a few minutes’ walk down a few steep alleyways and staircases from the heart of the city, but also in the heart of a “village”. We ate in one of the “main street’s” cafes, bought beer, wine and groceries from the local corner store, even took advantage of the local barber and hairdresser (although the barber was an Indian for whom Lisbon was but a short stop-off point for his intended destination, Southall, a very Indian suburb of London). From this location, we were able to walk (and puff) our way around much of the centre of this delightful city.
O, Fado
Fado is Portugal’s cultural equivalent of flamenco, tango or the blues – traditional music and a style of singing that defines Portuguese urban culture, particularly from the cities of Lisbon, Coimbra and Oporto
. The greatest ever exponent of Fado was Amalia. When she died in 1999, she was accorded a state funeral, three days of national mourning and a spot in the National Pantheon, reserved for Portugal’s great and good. Amalia’s sister, now 88 is the country’s oldest active Fado singer and performs regularly in Portugal and overseas. As luck would have it, her grandson (and manager of her career!) and thus Amalia’s great nephew, Diogo Varela Silva, was our next door neighbour. So who better to introduce us to Fado and lead us on a Fado “crawl” through some of his favourite haunts in Lisbon’s oldest neighbourhood and the only district not flattened by the 1755 earthquake, Alfarma. As the evening progressed wondering through the district’s maze of narrow lanes and alleyways, the bars became smaller and dingier, the tourists fewer, the guitar playing more skillful (particularly the playing of the classic 12-string Portuguese guitar) and the singing more passionate. The evening ended (well really morning – it was around 2 am) in a small room the walls of which were covered in 18th century tiles, recently uncovered when some plaster work disintegrated
. The building had been the home of a mistress of an 18th century Portuguese king and what is now a bar, had been her private chapel. At these small haunts, the district’s Fado singers often congregate after their evening performances to relax and entertain each other until dawn. We were mixing with Diogo’s friends and the heart of the Fado community. As well as being his grandmother’s manager, Diogo is also a film director and his latest project is a full-length Fado movie – so it was perhaps not a surprise that he was warmly greeted everywhere and we had no difficulty getting a table! We flagged before Diogo and headed back home sometime after 2 am. He stayed around a bit longer to hang out with his friends, one of whom, a classical guitarist and owner of the ex-chapel was very drunk (which apparently improves his guitar playing!). Next morning we hear that Diogo was in a bad way. He and the bar owner exchanging a farewell hug ended up on the floor, Diogo hitting a chair on the way down cracking ribs in the process.
Wedding Day
We passed up the opportunity to Fado until dawn in part because we were scheduled to move on Morocco that afternoon, but also because of course April 29 was wedding day! In between the processions, hymns and vows we managed to get the packing done and just as Will and Kate were heading back home, we headed off to the airport to catch a flight to Casablanca
. Or at least that was the plan. We arrived at the airport in good time….minus two bags. Harvey’s of course! Instead of being in the back of the car, they were back at the house!! Fortunately we were able to get through to Jordan, our host who having nothing better to do, offered to throw them in the back of his car and drive them to the airport. Friday afternoon is not the best time to cut things fine at Lisbon airport! A an agent reluctantly agreed to check us in with around 45 minutes to spare, but we would have to move fast to get to the gate in time. A Friday afternoon security line added to the angst, but with a bit of pushing and shoving, it looked as if we would make it with minutes to spare. Until that is at passport control, one of us (probably best not to mention names at this point) realized that they had left a bag with Noelene’s medications at the security check. Despite a lot of running, puffing and begging that was it. Portuguese Airlines turfed our bags off the plane and we were told “hard luck”!! It only took three hours to retrieve Noelene’s drugs and our bags, but that was just a small fraction of the time we had to wait around for the next flight to Casablanca. Will and Kate are not the only ones who had an April 29 to remember!!
Spain……It’s Not!
Friday, April 29, 2011
Lisbon, Estremadura, Portugal
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Comments

2025-02-12
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June and Vic
2011-05-01
Have loved the commentaries so far. Especially enjoyed the last two blogs. Fascinating. You have truly walked with ghosts in so many ancient places. Brings us all down to earth a bit and makes us realize that so many have walked before us in so many different roles and how they have impacted society and the world in general. Fabulous. Stay safe and enjoy. -
Diane
2011-05-01
Suggest handcuffing bags to unnamed fellow travelers before leaving ANYPLACE!
michael hammond
2011-05-03
ha ha ha ha, mr organisation. have a great time, wish we were there
michael hammond
2011-05-06
can you get me a fez while your in casablanca please
lexie
2011-05-06
wonderful trip David and Sandra, love reading your travel blogs, you will need a holiday to recover. Hope to catch up with you when you're back in Macquarie St.
LOL travel safely
bdsaly
2011-05-09
A bit late!! How about a fez from Fez??