Our Beira revisit includes three 'repeat trips'. Each of these stops is uniquely beautiful, but there are other priorities to come back. Sortelha's is a 'completion mission', and Ciudad Rodrigo's is an 'deep-dive mission'.
Our return to Monsanto (pop 829 in 2011) is because the last time we were here, the House of the Dragon production crew was also here. We want to see the village in normal times – a 'fresh-view mission'. We fully expect to share the village with other tourists, but for now at least, the House Targaryen has departed Dragonstone.
At least we know the parking drill. We turn around at the Miradouro de Monsanto, and leave our car on the downhill.
The Miradouro is lovely, the skies are crisp, and we can see for miles. We begin this tour at the Portas de São Sebastião (eighteenth century), at the lowest, western-most point of the village. It's next to the Capela do Espírito Santo (seventeenth century). From here, we begin to climb.
We reach the Igreja da Misericórdia (sixteenth century); during our last visit, this little church and its square were filled with funeral attendees and their cars.
Beyond the Igreja, we step up to the base of the Torre de Lucano (fifteenth century). We learn that the Galo de Prata on the catavento (pinwheel) at the top of the Torre is the actual award given to the village as the "Aldeia mais portuguesa de Portugal" – the most Portuguese village in Portugal.
In the Igreja's pediment niche we spy a small Madonna and Child, which looks of recent provenance. But otherwise, we realize that as we increase altitude, we also go further back in time.
We ascend to the Miradouro do Forno. With the clear air, we can see further than the last time, and the morning light is excellent. Everything looks so sharp: the blocky stone houses, the smooth round boulders, the variegated roof tiles.
Between the houses and boulders, the paths are cool, and the climb is comfortable. As we clear the village and continue to the Castelo, the cover clears, and it gets windy and warm.
The Castelo de Monsanto (twelfth century) is nearly empty – what a contrast. We enter the gatehouse without blocking stevedores; we frame our photos without avoiding staging and shuttering. The Castelo is so unusual and photogenic, and we can hardly blame the filmmakers for our previous experience.
As we enter the outer yard, it certainly seems bigger than we remember. However, in the upper yard, the Igreja de Santa Maria do Castelo (eighteenth century) is locked. As we finally reach the cidadela and scale the walls, the panorama on the parapet is glorious. No dragons, but a raptor photo-bombs our wide shot.
