Wednesday 14 March 2012
Even though Portuguese Tony of Jersey stayed open till nearly 1 AM, Charles was up at 7 to get us all to the first mass in the basilica at Fatima. It was a small gathering we thought, even for off season. Just for a lark, Charles made sure he wore his Rolling Stones tongue t-shirt (Sympathy for the Devil), under his outside shirt of course.
The approach was impressive, with the towering white basilica built in the '30s at the far end of a huge square with a tall pedestal and gold statue of Christ (surrounded by shrubbery with four fountains dispensing holy water) near the front and a chapel off to the left, where the three children reportedly saw the apparition of Mary. The story goes that they saw her first on the spot where the basilica is, where they would ordinarily pray the rosary while tending their sheep, but the light was so bright they ran away, thinking it was lightning, the vision appeared in front of them and lit up the area again, and this time they stopped and listened. We think we've got that right... And the rest is history.
Off by the outdoor chapel was a large curved area where people could light candles (Charles lit one for his mom, who sometimes went to Our Lady of Fatima Church in Albuquerque when not at Our Lady of the Assumption, and for his pop, who was always faithful about getting his family to mass, on time, every Sunday, even though he never got to go to the Baptist church he was brought up in because they said any man who worked in the liquor business was not worthy, hmpff, you know what we think about that!). There were big candles and all bent over and melted together, quite a sight.
Inside the basilica we noticed that all the stained glass windows were of Mary, till you got to the last two with the holy family on one side and Mary and an adult Jesus on the other. The backdrop art behind the altar was also interesting, sort of a black and white rendering of the apparition with an angel and the three children praying to Mary but also a bishop off to the side. Huh? No politics there, nope.
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| Photo by Charles |
On the way back to the car Dian had the idea of buying one of the small plastic cups with a hole in the bottom for a candle and using it to carry some holy water back to the van, by wrapping plastic around her finger and jamming it in the hole but it all leaked out before she got back to the van. Charles' meaty finger, however, was a perfect fit and even though it was turning various shades of purple he got the whole cupful of water back intact. A miracle.
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| Photo by Charles |
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| Photo by Charles |
So then we'd seen Fatima and attended mass and lit candles and carried holy water and headed off for a shrine to a different kind of ecstasy, Port. Back at the van, Charles ran off and came back with hot coffees and warm croissants on a tray from the nearby cafe. When they don't have take-away cups they always insist you take their good china without a thought that's the last they might ever see of it. It just didn't work that way. Thank God.
Without our (t)rusty GPS we did quite well mapping it (Charles had always loved maps), we took a small construction detour in a small town, Batalha, and went around the corner and Bam! There stood one of the biggest, most impressive cathedrals we'd ever seen, wedged between a very modest plaza, a pretty but very small tower sculpture in a park, and a freeway. Who knew? We always savored lucky accidents because we knew we'd be driving past so much since it was impossible to research every possible route we could take and what was worth seeing. We thought we could, but the reality was otherwise. If you know you're going to Madrid and Rome next month, you can know almost everything. If it's Europe and north Africa, itinerary unknown, there's only so much you can do.
We'll let the photos speak more eloquently for the cathedral, the monastery of Maria de Vitorio. Huge, ornate, gorgeous, buttresses flying everywhere, blackened and yellowed with time (from 1386), best gargoyles we'd seen yet, an unforgettable unfinished chapel which Nicole discovered through an inconspicuous side door where we lingered a long time. It seemed every country in Europe was littered with cathedrals, castles, ruins and stunning modern architecture one would never suspect in such little towns.
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| Photo by Charles |
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| Photo by Charles |
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| Photo by Charles |
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| Old stone blocks with symbols on them identified influential families who had donated to the church. |
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| Photo by Dian |
We popped into a couple of the tourist shops nearby and one was very interesting, filled with authentic local handmade crafts at good prices that we had to resist. A smiling woman there demonstrated her knotting method on a shawl in progress, but when a tour bus unloaded in front of her shop, boom! all business, later gator.
One more intentional detour, to the coastal town of Nazare, where we'd been told some of the women still wore the traditional seven layers of skirts, from the days when it signaled they were waiting for their sailor boys to return. We found a couple, older women, one Nicole snapped from behind and the other, when asked, smilingly posed for a photo. Ham sandwiches by Dian for the road for lunch, so full and falling apart that Nicole kept hers together with a rubber band!
Another slight "wrong" turn exposed another fantastic castle, as well-preserved, it seemed, as the one in Alburquerque (but that one was still our favorite). We drove through Coimbra, the town of the famous, historically important Henry the Navigator (actually, he did more enabling than navigating) where we saw a pretty river and nice architecture, then on to Aveiro, where we stopped briefly but loved it! Art everywhere, whimsical sculptures even on traffic islands, colorful boats, and canals! We though we were back in Venice (IT or CA). By the time we got near Porto James GPS Bond was slightly revived, enough to show us where a camp was, and Nicole wisely snapped a shot of his directions on her camera. Camp Madelena was a little pricey for having showers very dicey (we preferred adjustable handles for the hot water instead of having to hit a button every 15 secs -- were we asking too much? yes, sometimes, like at Camp Madelena) and their Wi-Fi was only available in one cold, empty building, but there were few camps in that part of Portugal so we jumped on it. Inside reception, Luis was a delightful young man full of smiles and great advice on Porto and the best free tourist map for a city we'd seen yet. (Interesting, the skills we'd acquired...)
Even though Portuguese Tony of Jersey stayed open till nearly 1 AM, Charles was up at 7 to get us all to the first mass in the basilica at Fatima. It was a small gathering we thought, even for off season. Just for a lark, Charles made sure he wore his Rolling Stones tongue t-shirt (Sympathy for the Devil), under his outside shirt of course.
Another slight "wrong" turn exposed another fantastic castle, as well-preserved, it seemed, as the one in Alburquerque (but that one was still our favorite). We drove through Coimbra, the town of the famous, historically important Henry the Navigator (actually, he did more enabling than navigating) where we saw a pretty river and nice architecture, then on to Aveiro, where we stopped briefly but loved it! Art everywhere, whimsical sculptures even on traffic islands, colorful boats, and canals! We though we were back in Venice (IT or CA). By the time we got near Porto James GPS Bond was slightly revived, enough to show us where a camp was, and Nicole wisely snapped a shot of his directions on her camera. Camp Madelena was a little pricey for having showers very dicey (we preferred adjustable handles for the hot water instead of having to hit a button every 15 secs -- were we asking too much? yes, sometimes, like at Camp Madelena) and their Wi-Fi was only available in one cold, empty building, but there were few camps in that part of Portugal so we jumped on it. Inside reception, Luis was a delightful young man full of smiles and great advice on Porto and the best free tourist map for a city we'd seen yet. (Interesting, the skills we'd acquired...)
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