World's Edge, Day 3 – Castro Verde

The way home is through Castro Verde (pop 7,276 in 2011) – at Christmas we drove through Beja. Castro Verde is a much smaller village, with fewer sites and lunch options, but we want to give the 'underdog' a try. Here is José Saramago's introduction:

Castro Verde is as green as its name suggests. Perched on a hill, it has more than enough vegetation to soothe the eyes from the harshness of the plain. If the traveller were only concerned with monuments today, it would hardly be worth his while having come so far to see what is here, despite the value of the experience of crossing forty kilometres of scorched earth. The church of the Chagas do Salvador is open, and can show some charming paintings of battle scenes, as well as a panel of tiles, but the parish church, here given the title royal, is firmly shut. (José Saramago, “Journey to Portugal,” 1990; trans Hopkinson-Caistor, 2000)

We park near the Basílica Real (sixteenth century, Nossa Senhora da Conceição), but as Saramago found, the church is locked. Despite its severe exterior, the interior is covered with azulejos. We recall our failure at Almancil; another tiled beauty avoids our cameras (another return trip to plan).

 

A pleasant promenade through the Praça do Municipal brings us to the Igreja das Chagas do Salvador (sixteenth century, Nossa Senhora dos Remédios), which is open. The pediment features several wonderful finials and swirls, worn like a hairstyle on an otherwise plain facade. We ask the docent inside who explains that the Basílica Real is closed, and goes back to his book – though friendly, we do our best not to disturb him.

Both the Igreja and the Basílica are originally built to commemorate Dom Afonso Henriques' victory at the Batalha de Ourique (July 25, 1139) during the Reconquista (the battlefield marker is nearby). So, the paintings here and the tile panels there tell similar stories, in which the Salvador appears before the king and inspires the outnumbered Portugueses to victory over the Almorávidas. Thus, the victory is a 'milagre' (miracle), and Afonso proclaims himself Rei dos Portugueses.

An image of the martyred Christ appearing before Afonso hangs near the entry vestibule, and is also on the brasão in the Jardim de Castro Verde (top photo – feels cruel that the Messiah would appear still nailed to the cross).

The victory also marks the origin of the Bandiera das Quinas, signifying the Cinco Santa Chagas (Five Holy Wounds) of Christ, the five defeated Moorish kings. The canvases of the Batalha (eighteenth century), as well as those representing the Evangelists at the top of the archway, and scenes of the life of the Virgin on either side of the altar mor, are by Diogo Magina, a painter from the Algarve. Though they could all use a cleaning, the images are bold, clear, and expressive; this includes the beheading to the Moorish kings and the crowning of 'Afonso I'.

(Note that Dom Afonso Henriques is the great-great-great-great-great-great-grandfather of Infante Dom Henrique – hope that's right; and July 25th is also the Feira de Sant'Iago, "o Matamoros".)

 

 

 

 

There are four azulejos story panels near the altar and six additional painting which illustrate the Marian cycle, including Her Marriage to St Joseph, the Annunciation, and the Adoration of the Magi. The Cinco Santas Chagas also appears in the ceiling crest.

But the figures of the chapel saints appear to come from the same 'shop'. Though unlabeled, the female saint with the crown of roses, anchor, and arrows must be Santa Filomena (canonized for healing sick children, remédios). And the tiles in the main worship space are the same type of commercial Dutch tiles that might be in local homes. They create a regular, gridded texture below the canvases, yet add the local flora, fauna, and character. Perhaps humble in origin, these 'store-bought' pieces complete the story and the look of this "charming" interior.

 

 

 

Just around the corner from the Igreja, we find the eaves of village's correios (post office) dotted with swallows' nests, and a swarm of dark little birds whizzing around the traffic circle. On the Rua Morais Sarmento, the town has recently created a pedestrian shopping street (as the sign attests), an old moinho de vento (windmill) and the fields of the Baixo Alentejo in the distance. Just as we are taking pictures, a young man rolls by in a donkey cart.

Then, just down the street from the Praça da Liberdade, while searching for a lunch spot, we stumble onto the Casa Dona Maria, an early twentieth century manor house built by local farmer Álvaro Romano Colaço. It features a multi-leveled formed-concrete balustrade and a series of ornamental watch towers.

Having come from the world's edge, a stop in this eccentric and historic village is "worth our while".

 

World's Edge, Day 2 – Salema and Cabo de São Vicente

Salema (pop 276 in 2011), just east of Sagres, is Rick Steves' favorite beach (in Europe), so it must be worth a look. We arrive mid-morning. The tide is high and the seas look choppy. Unfortunately, this means the stairs at the western end of the beach are inaccessible (or risk squishy shoes for the rest of the day). From the satellite views, what had seemed to be small buildings near the stairs (cabanas? showers?) are large standing rocks. This whole end of the beach is a 'falling rock' zone; the size of the falling rocks adds to the concern.

It's a beautiful beach, but it's empty on this overcast morning. We had read that dinosaur footprints are visible from the stair landing, so we walk around, up the hill, then down the stairs to see them. The views from the upper lot over the ridge are quite good, and the tracks are clear as day on one of the larger boulders.

We had also picked out a local lunch spot, but a walk on the shortened beach does not take long. We could sit in the sand and wait a few hours for the place to open, or continue exploring other attractions – so, we drive on.

 

 

 

 

The Forte de Almádena (seventeenth century) is a ruined stone structure just a few minutes east of Salema. We wind through a swampy bog on a hand-set cobble road, and slowly around the hill on a rough dirt path. It is not a large site, or well-maintained, but the crest offers a good panorama of the headlands near the Praia das Cabanas Velhas and back to Salema.

 

 

 

A few thin trails lace through the thick weeds and wildflowers, and lead to fragments of an old vault and an arched gate. We scramble up a passage to the top of the wall on the west side. Yellow patches of clover highlight the broken walls. The shimmer on the grey ocean and the colorless gradient in the clouds merge, and the horizon nearly disappears. This sets off the bright, sharp textures of the ruins and the grasses. 

 

 

 

 

Still too early for lunch, so we turn west and continue to Cabo de São Vicente. From the access road, a brash red farol occupies a broad, stone-covered promontory, and peeks above the former convento's walls. A modest white gateway and pediment mark the entrance.

Inside there is a unexpected hive of activity. Against the fortress wall is a busy cafe. On the opposite side of the courtyard is a souvenir shop. We mingle with hikers and bikers who have truly earned their visit. 

The courtyard leads down to an irregularly shaped miradouro which faces north and west. A construction fence encloses the lighthouse; the buildings look clean and refreshed. We walk as far as the fence allows, point our cameras west, and stare towards the New World.

The lenda (legend) of São Vicente tells how the remains of the martyred saint, miraculously protected from scavengers by corvos (ravens), are recovered at the Cabo in the fourth century. His relics are transferred to the Sé de Lisboa by order of Dom Afonso Henriques in the twelfth century, during the Reconquista. It is fascinating how this site ties several threads of Portuguese history.

Outside the fortress, we scramble across the spiky scrub for a better view of the farol, which includes a surprising number of levels which cascade down the slope (top image). We cautiously seek smooth paths within the relentless rocks. Progress is especially awkward given the consequences of a slip. Large gulls hover past and add an unwelcome distraction. After hearing stories of tourists stepping back and falling while trying to take selfies, we must simultaneously watch our steps and remind ourselves of the edge.

 

 

Departing the farol, still on the access road, the Fortaleza do Belixe (fifteenth or sixteenth century) catches our attention. The gate to the Fortaleza is locked but there's a passage behind the standing curtain wall with glorious views of the cliffs. As the clouds disperse, the color of the sea brightens and the horizon's edge sharpens. Large iron crooks in the hillside offer guidance as well as stability.

Driving away, we see the capela is just barely hanging on – perhaps why the gate is locked.

 

 

 

Lunch is in Sagres, as there are really no options along the way. After lunch, we return for a closer look at the Fortaleza de Sagres. The primary structure dates from the fifteenth century, built by Infante Dom Henrique, "o Navegador". Beyond the fortress gate there is an unexpected set of modern buildings mixed with the older (rebuilt) structures. And beyond the buildings, the bluff opens out to a wide plateau, with another small farol.

 

 

Our first stop is the Igreja de Nossa Senhora da Graça (fifteenth century), a small church in the western yard near the padrão comemorativo (placed in 2006, in honor of the 'discoveries'). Inside, the Igreja is plain, with just a few objects on display: São Vicente (seventeenth century) is on the left (Evangelist side) of the alter archway holding a caravela, and São Francisco is on the right (eighteenth century). On the altar is Nossa Senhora (seventeenth century) stands in a triumphal arch, with a lovely, polychrome tile panel at the front of the retable (the altarpiece is relocated from the Fortaleza do Belixe: "Devido à ameaça eminente de desmoronamento da falésia." – due to the imminent threat of crumbling of the cliff).

At the base of the altar are three marvelous tomb covers: Capitão Dom Diogo Misia Chorines (1627, "Castelhano dos Castelos de Sagres e São Vicente" – Castilian, captain of the Fortaleza in the 1620's), Tenente General Ascenso Alvarez Barreto (1663, "Cavaleiro Professo da Ordem de Santiago e Governador desta Fortaleza de Sagres"), and João Fernandez de Luna (1589, "Capitão de Infantaria del rei Primeiro Castelhanodeste Castelo" – captain of a company dispatched from the Castelo de São Jorge, Lisboa, during the attack on Sagres by Sir Francis Drake in 1587).

 

 

Ascending the ramp to the Torre Central, we get and excellent view of the famous Rosa dos Ventos (uncovered in 1919, dated to the sixteenth century), currently overgrown. On the top of the fortress wall is a marker stone with a replica of the Rosa. The Fortaleza is a reconstruction, after numerous battles and the earthquake of 1755, and there is no marker or explanation for the miniature. Indeed, there is no definitive account of the Rosa itself; it remains an enigma.

 

 

 

The east side of the Torre Central displays a row of cannons, though they don't all appear to align with the crenels. The views to the opposite precipice with our Pousada are dramatic. Walking back down the ramp, we pick up the long and very straight path to the farol.

 

 

The Farol de Sagres is a newer construction (1923) and looks something like a Star Was 'droid'. From the Rosa to the farol is several hundred meters and takes a good ten minutes; and there's another hundred meters or so to the far railing. The little peninsula points to the south, where the sun struggles to light the ocean.

 

 

One final structure captures our attention. It is a low, stepped structure just to the east of the farol. A weathering steel plaque tell us this is Voz do Mar ("Voice of the Sea", 2010) by artist Pancho Guedes. This is reminiscent of the work of James Turrell, and very like the 'skyspace' installation at the de Young Museum in San Francisco. A circular labyrinth isolates a central chamber, and we are focused on slow-motion skies and thunderous seas.

Here at the world's edge, the heavens drift past the oculus while the surf shudders the steel grating under our feet. Emerging, we see and hear the world with sharpened senses. The sign at the end of the trail offers this poem from Fernando Pessoa ("Horizonte"):

Ó mar anterior a nós, teus medos

Tinham coral e praias e arvoredos.

Desvendadas a noite e a cerração,

As tormentas passadas e o mistério,

Abria em flor o Longe, e o Sul sidério

'Splendia sobre as naus da iniciação.

Linha severa da longínqua costa -

Quando a nau se aproxima ergue-se a encosta

Em árvores onde o Longe nada tinha;

Mais perto abre-se a terra em sons e cores:

E, no desembarcar, há aves, flores,

Onde era só, de longe, a abstracta linha.

O sonho é ver as formas invisíveis

Da distancia imprecisa, e, com sensíveis

Movimentos da esp'rança e da vontade,

Buscar na linha fria do horizonte

A árvore, a praia, a flor, a ave, a fonte -

Os beijos merecidos da Verdade.

(Oh ocean preceding us, your fears

Had coral and beaches and forests to them.

Were the night and fog unveiled,

The past's storms and mystery, 

The Afar would blossom, and the starlit South 

Shine resplendent on the ship of initiation.

Austere line of the distant coast -

Upon the ship's approach, the slope of the land rises

In trees with nothing Far about them;

Closer by, the earth opens up in sounds and colours:

And upon landing there are birds and flowers

Where from afar there was only an abstract line.

The dream is to see the invisible forms

Of imprecise distances, and, with sensitive

Movements of hope and will,

To seek out in the cold line of the horizon

The tree, the beach, the flower, the bird, the fountain -

The much-deserved caresses of Truth.)