Goodbye Portugal
Well, it’s time to say goodbye to another country. Somehow, it doesn’t get any easier each time. I’ve loved Portugal and it has been such a pleasure to experience a new country, its landscapes, its sites, its history, and its people.
We spent time in two larger centres - Lisbon and Porto, which you’ve heard about already - and some time in two smaller ones - Coimbra and Tomar. Coimbra is a university town and its white buildings shine atop a hill in the old city. The university was established in 1290 and it has a long, distinguished tradition.
We visited the Joanine Library, extant since the early 1700s and possessing a magic that usually is found only in books. (No convoluted pun intended.) The rooms were truly fantastic, with old glass fronted shelves built to various sizes within each bookcase, largest books at the bottom; tall ladders skimming the top heights; a resident bat colony to eat the insects; thick walls, wood, gilt, leather and Chinoiserie coming together to create a place of beauty, discovery, deep peacefulness, and joy.
We also saw, in a large, dimly lit examination hall, a student defending his doctoral dissertation. Professors sitting in high seats above grilled him, fellow students on the floor sat as witnesses to the process, and he sat at a solitary table illuminated by a bright desk lamp shining on the pages of his work. It was all very solemn and impressive.
The city also has, of course, grand churches with ancient architecture and inviting cloisters. In fact, I hadn’t seen so many Romanesque churches before this visit to Portugal. Student musicians perform in the streets. Here, as in Porto, we could easily spot them with their swirling black capes, the ancient uniform of their studies, worn still today. And Coimbra has its own special form of fado - romantic, sung only by males, and cerebral. The Coimbra classical 12-string guitar lends itself to a more intellectual interpretation of emotions, apparently. Coimbra has a wide open river valley and this lends a surprisingly North American air to this part of the city. There is an extensive park developed along its river banks, with many bridges spanning it to make both sides accessible.
Tomar is a much smaller centre, with stunning, gently rolling country fading into clouds, visible from the hill overlooking the town. That hill is home to the Convento de Cristo, built in the late 12th century by the then Grand Master of the Knights Templar. It’s a magnificent site containing, among many other wonders, a round church modelled on the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. While we were there, a group of pilgrims arrived (at least, I think they were pilgrims - Fátima is nearby and it’s nearing Easter) and they scattered themselves around the central, magnificent alter and carvings to sing most harmoniously and professionally, a hymn or two. It lent a holy sort of joy to our visit there. It’s an immense site and we spent hours exploring it. Tomar also has a medieval style restaurant where we went to supper one night. The food was good, the atmosphere thrilling. No Vegas-style carousing and tossing of bones onto the floor, but good food on thick wood-slab tables, wooden benches with a goat skin thrown across, low-ceiling stone rooms lit by candlelight. A hand rung bell signalled the wait staff when a table’s food was ready to serve.
Portugal has been a delight in so many ways. I’m happy we got to experience its large cities and it’s small towns. And that there is still more I’d like to see on my next trip here.