Portugal

loriga

What on earth were we thinking?? Obviously, we weren’t thinking at all as, having crossed the Spanish/Portuguese border just a couple of hours previously, we were now in first gear crawling up a vertiginous, narrow, winding mountain road in pitch blackness. A snowy mist was swirling around with visibility down to just three of the white centre lane stripes as we crept along at a snail’s pace praying that we weren’t going to shoot off the side. Ian peering at his phone reading out our increasing altitude levels might well have been designed to help but was just adding to the ludicrousness of the situation. 1,200m, 1,500m, 1,800m and we were still climbing.

Our current plan - to spend the winter in Portugal where we are hoping for some winter sun. Small snow drifts banked up on the side of the road where not quite what we had in mind. As we continued ever upwards, a white tower suddenly appeared out of the mist and the realisation struck that we were on the top of Mount Torre, at 2,000m, the highest point in mainland Portugal. Of course, there was no one else on the road, what possible reason could you have to be there?

Since leaving the UK we have been on a bit of a tight schedules as we left ourselves a rather small window in which to drive down to Portugal to meet some friends over from Oz. No excuses, but we have been flying by the seat of our pants and logistic preparation has been non-existent, which is why we found ourselves a little off the beaten track.

Our destination was Loriga, a small village within the Serra de Estrela Park, a park that, had we been paying attention to its name would have informed us that we were heading into a mountain range, in fact the highest mountain range in Continental Portugal and the only place in the country where it is possible to ski. Having no intention of hanging around until the ski season officially started, we drove out of the park the following morning. It was still very misty, but we did catch glimpses of glacial valleys, major river systems and large swathes of Juniper and Eucalyptus trees, a stark contrast to the flat and uninspiring landscape of the Spanish central plateau that we had just crossed.

H. Heidelbergensis (world history.org)

So, Portugal.  Less than half the size of the UK, this small nation lies along the Atlantic coast of the Iberian Peninsula in southwestern Europe.  The history of Portugal can be traced from circa 400,000 years ago when the region was inhabited by Homo heidelbergensis.  To put this into perspective, it is generally agreed that the first human ancestors appeared between 5-7 million years ago.  Evolution from there went through the periods of H. erectus @2 million years ago, H. heidelbergensis @200,000 – 500,000 years ago, H. Neandertalensis @300,000 years ago with H. sapiens arriving on the scene @200,000 years ago.  Fast forwarding, over the last 3,000 years, inhabitants and rulers of Portugal have included Celts, Romans, Visigoths, Moors and Christian crusaders but with independence from Spain in the early 1100’s and firm borders defined shortly after, Portugal is the oldest nation-state in Europe. 

 Today, mainland Portugal is divided into the regions of Minho, Tras-os-Montes, Porto/Douro Litoral, The Beiras, Estremadura, Ribatejo, Alentejo and the Algarve.  There are also a series of archipelagos in the Atlantic Ocean, the Azores and Madeira.  Broadly speaking, the northwest is hilly and rainy, the northeast mountainous and drier, whilst the south has low plains and gentle hills.  It is 218 km wide and 561 km long with 832 km of Atlantic coast and a 1,215km border with Spain. 

We had crossed into Portugal on the eastern side of the country into the central area of the Beiras and we now had a couple of hundred kilometres to go to reach Golega and our friends.  Why Golega?  Well, every November, for a 10 day period, the spectacle that is Golega national horse fair (Feira Nacional do Cavalo) is celebrated.  Located on the outskirts of the region of Lisbon, where many breeders of Portugal’s famous Lusitano horses are found, the usually sleepy historic town of Golega transforms to a frenzy of horses, carriages, food stalls, bars and a huge selection of vendors plying everything from traditional tack to artworks and antiques.  The name Lusitano is taken from Lusitania, an ancient Roman name for the region that today is Portugal, and the breed is valued for its intelligence, courage and ability to form strong bonds with man.  Over the years they have been used as war horses, cattle horses, carriage horses and bull fighters but today, their exceptional athleticism and grace makes them particularly well suited to the higher levels of dressage.  Many of the riders were elegantly turned out in traditional Portuguese attire and watching them as they danced and weaved their horses through the crowds was quite something.  There didn’t appear to be much in the way of official organisation although you could hire a horse for a day and join in the fun.  Having been to many horse shows and events over the years, I had certainly seen nothing that compared in any way to Golega.   Horses appearing through the front doors of the local houses was certainly a little different and there can’t be too many places where you can watch tiny children on huge stallions performing piaffe.  There was no doubting that most of the horses were stallions and to observe them in such close proximity to each other without even a squeal of protest was surely a lesson in horsemanship.  It was a real celebration of the Portuguese horse and Europe’s oldest horse breed. 

flooded walking trail

A week later we were on our way north to Porto, Portugal’s second largest city.  The journey was just 200 km but as we would have done had Leroy still been with us, we stopped to go for a walk.  Well, we tried to, more than once, but the entire area had obviously received a lot of heavy rain and each attempt to head out on a walking trail was abandoned due to flooding.  We even watched a local pull an impressively large fish out of the water where our AllTrails app was clearly showing there should have been a path.  So far, the Portuguese climate was not really selling itself but, fingers crossed, by the time we get down to the south our shorts will be making a re-appearance from the depths of our storage bags. 

porto

liveria lello

Porto sits at the mouth of the Rio Douro, a river that runs for nearly 900 km from northern Spain, through Portugal to the Atlantic Ocean and one that has been crucially important to the local economy.  Porto is the kind of city that grows on you and from what we could see is increasingly being recognised by travellers as a holiday destination.  The old town forms the heart of the city and there are plenty of steep cobblestone streets, narrow alleys and tall colourful houses to ooze authentic charm.  The Livraria Lello (1906) would have to be one of the most beautiful bookstores in the world and, apparently, a direct inspiration for JK Rowling and her Harry Potter books – she lived in the city from 1991-1993.  It is also emerging as a strong foodie scene although its two main offerings might not be for everyone.  One of these is Tripas a Moda do Porto, a hearty dish of slow-cooked tripe, the other is the Francesinha, an intimidatingly large Portuguese sandwich that contains all kinds of meat, including cured ham, roast pork and garlic sausage which is covered with melted cheese and topped with a fried egg – oh, and not forgetting the accompanying spicy sauce that contains whiskey and beer.  On the plus side, there is no shortage of port wine with which to wash the food down, a product that the area is world famous for; evidence of which can be seen from the high plaza surrounding the hulking, hilltop fortress that is the city’s cathedral.  Emblazoned across the various roof tops throughout the town are the well-known names of Taylors, Cockburns and Grahams, some of the founding port companies.

peneda-geres national park

aldeia de pontes (bridges village)

It stopped raining as we continued north to Minho, a region in the far northwestern corner of the country with a gateway to Peneda-Geres, Portugal’s only national park.  The 703-sq-km park was established in 1971 to ensure that both the habitat as well as the ancient customs of the region are kept intact.  It is spread across four impressive granite massifs and shelters more than 100 granite villages, the inhabitants of which live their lives much as the generations before them.  The landscape was wild and ruggedly beautiful, and we hiked amongst huge granite boulders, pine and oak forests, gorges, meandering rivers and Sorraia, Portugal’s wild ponies.  As beautiful as it was, there was no denying the effects of mass emigration; many of the villages seemed to be existing with a skeleton crew of just a dozen or so oldies, younger generations long gone in search of work and a modern lifestyle.  As we made our way east, never too far from the Spanish border, the countryside continued to wow, and the gentle pace of life was all too obvious as we repeatedly shared the road with the long-horned Barossa cattle being moved along by a stick wielding octogenarian and his large black Castro Laboreiro cattle dog.  It was impossible to hurry along the narrow mountain roads and we had plenty of time to absorb this other-worldly part of Portugal.  We stayed in various accommodations, mostly in small villages.  Some, like Aldeia de Pontes (Bridges Village), were just a collection of a dozen stone houses that had stood abandoned for years before being brought back to life in the form of rural tourism. 

Miranda Do Douro in the region of Tras-os-Montes (behind the mountains), is about as far east in Portugal as you can go.  A small municipality that, aside from the Pauliteiros, men in skirts dancing with wooden batons, seems to have little to offer.  However, it’s location, perched on a cliff high above the cavernous valley that sees the Douro River cross the border from Spain is dramatic and the surrounding countryside is home to a vast number of bird species, including the Golden eagle, Griffon vulture and Peregrine falcon.   Following the course of the river would take us back towards Porto and the N222 is one of Portugal’s most scenic drives, passing through charming villages and the vine covered terraced hillsides that this area is noted for.

watching the river douro enter portugal

The slopes of the valley that the river has carved on its way to the sea are home to one of the world’s oldest demarcated wine regions, a region that produces both red and white wines but is probably best known for its fortified sweet wines.  Following the establishment of the kingdom of Portugal and the ensuing Treaty of Windsor (1386) that established strong trading relationships with Britain, many English and Scottish merchants settled in Portugal.  The demand in Britain at the time was for strong, full-bodied red wines, exactly the type of wine that the Douro valley grapes were producing.  The only way to transport the wines from the distant hillsides to the coast was by boat down the River Douro to Porto where it was common practice to add a small amount of brandy to the wine prior to shipment to preserve it from spoiling.  This practice had the effect of not only arresting fermentation but also creating a stronger, sweeter wine – a port wine.

douro vine covered hillside

The Douro valley is one of Portugal’s main tourist attractions and there are plenty of opportunities to stay in one of its many historic country houses.  It is a bit like going over to a friend for dinner with a sleep over.  These rural properties usually have a limited number of rooms and full capacity would probably be around a dozen people.  Once everyone is checked in, the locally produced port is offered and introductions are made.  Aperitifs are served in the lounge prior to a communal dinner where a generous selection of home-grown wines are available.  The evenings usually conclude in the lounge where the port makes another appearance alongside the coffee.  Aside, from the copious amounts of alcohol, these occasions are a great opportunity to meet fellow travellers from UK, Norway, Italy, Sweden and Vietnam to name just a few.

Had you asked us a few weeks ago what we were expecting to find in Portugal, our response would have been sand, sea and hopefully sun.  We had no idea that such thickly forested, mountainous countryside was to be found in the north and we have loved exploring this rather special part of Europe.  However, we are now turning south, searching for some sun. 

river douro