Beira '24 – Monsanto Revisit

It's the last day of our week in the Beira, and our destination is Monsanto (pop 829 in 2011). Every time we return to this incredible village created from a mountain of boulders, we're reminded that this is the"Aldeia mais portuguesa de Portugal" – the most Portuguese village in Portugal.

But we are staying in Alfaiates (pop 360 in 2021), itself a bucolic aldeia full of history, frozen in time, and practically untouched by anything that isn't Portuguese. What could be more 'Portuguese'? and who are we to judge?

'Revisits' allow us to confirm memories, note changes, and discover new things. The memory of our first trip, is filled with the bustle and insanity of an HBO production; the House of the Dragon was filming at the Castelo. And we are not alone in this – it appears that someone (the local tourist board or chamber of commerce?) has installed a series of over-sized vinyl posters throughout the village with stills from the show (Rota Ninho do Dragão). Well, that's not very Portuguese at all.

But the Galo de Prata, the trophy from 1938's 'most Portuguese' proclamation, still sits atop the Torre de Lucano (fifteenth century), and the vistas and the village are as breathtaking as ever.

 

 

We walk to the Miradouro do Forno, enjoying the timeless ambiance and endless views. On the way up, we notice damage to several of the posters, perhaps the work of a rival 'house'. Seems they are not universally loved, and we sympathize. They should be smaller, less … obnoxious.

The noon-time sun warms the grey rocks and shortens the shadows in the slim passages. We find a place to remove our sweaters, have lunch, and drink something cold.

 

 

 

 

Refreshed, we make our assault on the Castelo de Monsanto (twelfth century). Climbing the parapets never gets old: the viridescent grass and trees, the faraway ridges of the Serra da Estrela, and those unbelievable boulders.

The imagery is reflected in the description on the movie poster:

Monsanto foi o local utilizado para caracterizar Dragonstone, que é uma ilha vulcânica localizada na Baía de Blackwater, e abriga o Castelo fortemente fortificado com a sede ancestral da Casa Targaryen.

[Monsanto was the place used to characterize Dragonstone, which is a volcanic island located in Blackwater Bay, and houses the Strongly fortified Castle with the ancestral headquarters of the Targaryen House.]

 

 

 

By way of comparison, the folks from the Aldeias Históricas, that have done so much in Alfaiates and Belmonte, provide wonderful drawings by Duarte D'Armas (early 16th century). We turn slowly, measuring the lines, comparing the pattern of the ruins, then replacing the missing walls and towers with our mind's eye.

The sign is just below the Igreja de Santa Maria do Castelo (eighteenth century), in the middle of the yard, on a sturdy steel panel. Painted black, it is strangely unobtrusive.

 

 

On the way down from the Castelo, we find the poster that explains the chapter depicted in the House of the Dragon show:

Após a morte de Viserys, os Greens dão um golpe em Kings Landing e coroam Aegon Il Targaryen. Em resposta, os Blacks coroam Rhaenyra como rainha em Dragonstone "Monsanto", dividindo a Casa Targaryen e precipitando a derradeira batalha.

[After Viserys' death, the Greens give a blow to Kings Landing and crown Aegon Il Targaryen. In response, the Blacks crown Rhaenyra as queen in Dragonstone "Monsanto", dividing the Targaryen House and precipitating the ultimate battle.]

 

 

We ponder the boundary between the authentic and the simulacra. We grab some ice creams and finish them before getting back in the car. The question is this: are people traveling to Monsanto because it's 'the most Portuguese' or because it's an HBO filming location? the Galo de Prata or the 'Blood Wyrm' Caraxes? To the merchants and restauranteurs living in and around the village the answer is assuredly, 'Sim' – Yes.

Back in our own pocket of Portuguese-ness, we enjoy our bowls of chicken stew, made with vegetables grown across the street by our neighbors. We listen to the goats' bells and watch the swallows flash by as the sunsets over the freshly plowed fields.

Beira '24 – Salamanca to Alfaiates

Our time here in Spain is over far too quickly. This morning's schedule involves our driving from Salamanca (pop 144,825 in 2020) back to Portugal, with a stop or two on the way to stretch our legs. After breakfast, we take a stroll to get some exercise and say goodbye and enjoy the sand-colored architecture.

In the Plaza Mayor, the Policía Local gather for some kind of event or ceremony. Blue barricades ring the center of the square, and banners hang from the Ayuntamiento. Police cars sit in one corner and motorcycles in another. Feathers twirl on the helmets of tall men in dress uniforms. And epaulettes, people are wearing epaulettes.

Whatever the ceremony is, it's taking a while for things to get going, and we don't wait around. 

 

 

We go to check out the Mercado Central as it was closed on our last try. This morning it is alive. Despite the inland location, there's plenty of fish and seafood, but the sausages and charcuterie steal the show. It looks and feels like any mercado in Portugal, but cleaner, brighter, and with better signage. Strangely, it smells better, too.

We shop for some gifts for friends. It's all easy and friendly.

 

Finished in the Mercado, we continue toward the Plaza de Colón. On the way, we find the courtyard of the Palacio de la Salina (16th century) is open, and there is a crowd. Folks are here for some kind of bonsai gathering – hobbyists and photographers are inspecting the plants. Under the loggia, there's another line of tables with plants, and the judges or 'experts' demonstrating their skills; these are the serious people.

The Palacio is beautiful, and we're glad of the chance to see it. Wonderfully twisted and tortured bodies support the upper loggia. Painted florets provide the impression of coffers between the joists. The balustrades are in carved stone, with all the ironwork concentrated at the porte-cochère. The deep spring blocks of the main arch add tension as well (top image).

 

 

One more swing past the La Casa de las Conchas (late 15th century) and the La Clerecía (17th century), and we finish our walk on the Calle Rúa Mayor. The merchants are setting up, cleaning their windows, and getting ready for another busy day.

 

The drive home is uneventful, covering about ninety miles of flat landscape in good time. We arrive in Alfaiates (pop 360 in 2021) by afternoon with plenty of time to get some groceries before dinner.

Beira '24 – Salamanca (PM)

[back to the morning – Salamanca (AM)]

We stop for hornazo – so delicious, but not health food. A little goes a really long way. After our snack, and with the skies clearing, we are ready to head out, having spent the morning indoors. We decide to take the view of the river, and head south.

We pass the Palacio de Monterrey (16th century), with its corner tower and upper window arcade.

The Casa de los Abarca Alcaraz (16th century) is similar, though less ostentatious. All the signage is done is the now familiar 'vítor' graffiti style, with the letters fading and re-applied. The plateresque string courses and trim act as boundaries or dividers.

 

 

 

The Jardín de la Merced offers an expansive view of the river walk and the Puente Romano (1st Century BC?). We can make out el verraco del puente staring down the approach to the bridge. This is near the southwestern corner of the kink, the 'Tormes gumdrop'. The river seems shrunken under the arches of such a lengthy viaduct.

Leaving the Jardín and moving east, we investigate the facade of the Monumenta Salamanticae (Iglesia de San Millán, 18th century), a modest beauty.

The Centro Documental de la Memoria Histórica (Joaquín de Churriguera, 1720) wins for having the best name, and looks more Baroque than plateresque (neoplateresco); it holds an archive of material documenting the time of the Spanish Civil War – this was, at the time, a barracks for Franco's Guardia de Regulares.

Near the cathedral complex, we enjoy more views from the Huerto de Calixto y Melibea. Salamanca's historic center is generally free from traffic, but here we see and sense the energy from the circular artery that surrounds our garden.

 

 

 

 

The last major site to visit is the Convento de San Esteban (16th century). From the Plaza del Concillo de Trento, we cross a small pedestrian bridge over the Arroyo de Santo Domingo and onto the checkerboard Plaza de San Esteban.

The late afternoon sun is just leaving its last rays on the Calvario near the top of the fachada. With the same alchemy we saw last night, the stunning Crucifixión glows gold. San Pedro (with keys) is on His right, and San Pablo (with sword) is on His left, about to fade into the shadows; the Pantocrátor at the top is already there. The quality of the sculptural renderings is fantastic (Juan Antonio Ceroni, 17th century), as is the architecture with narrow, decorative posts in front of wide, almost classical pilasters. The presentation may be 'plateresco', but the execution should just be called Renacimiento Español.

In the smaller arch below is the Martirio de San Esteban (Ceroni, 1610); he was stoned to death. With the light cast from the bell tower, a small spot dramatically strikes the bald head of the attacker behind him. The inscription states his final words:

Domine ne statuas illis hoc pecatu

[Lord, do not lay this sin to their charge]

The main door is finished in raised diamonds. As this is a Dominican convent, to the left of the door is Santo Domingo, with a star on his forehead and a dog at his feet. The female saint to the far right may be Santa Teresa, the martyred Carmelite nun from the neighboring city of Ávila.

 

 

 

 

The visitors' entrance is from the Doric loggia to the south of the Plaza, under the bell tower, and we begin in the Claustro de los Reyes. We are met by an interesting 'corner niche' Anunciación; poor Gabriel has lost his head.

Dominican friars literally oversee the door; San Pedro de Verona martyred with a sword in his head, is carved over one. Heads are getting some rough treatment. San Domingo, marked again by the star and the dog, is over the door in the northeast corner which leads to both the Iglesia and the Sacristía.

 

 

 

 

The door leads to an amazing white stone staircase, known as the Escalera de Soto (16th century), with a coffered arch and a lacy vault. The Sacristía (17th century) is beyond the door in the corner, tight under the arch. When we go under, it opens to a cavernous triple-height room, all classical order and proper Corinthian pilasters.

Looking back, we notice the door to the staircase is offset by a shallow, diagonal barrel vault, so as not to disturb the symmetry. Knowing that the low arch is on the other side, the architect would not have been able to keep it centered otherwise.

 

 

Another door from the stair hall connects to a dark, narrow hall with a vaulted ceiling with a lantern. The hall is in place of a side chapel, and so we immediately enter at the chancel.

The ogrnate Baroque altarpiece (1693) is by José Churriguera and integrates a painted scene of the Martirio de San Esteban (Claudio Coello, 1692).

The center is covered by a cross vault with side lights. Aligning the floor plan, we understand that the grand stair is in the place of the south transept. The Capilla del Rosario in north transept includes an unusual back-lit altar and a scene painted directly on the stone blocks of the Coronación de la Santísima Virgen (Antonio Villamor, 18th century).

Unlike the cathedrals, the Coro of this church is in a loft near the front. It contains an eye-catching painting by Antonio Palomino of Triunfo de la Iglesia (1705).

 

 

 

 

The Organ is mounted just back of the Coro. The north chapel near the front includes a stained-glass piece with a man feeding dogs, cats, and rats. The two piers near the crossing have niches holding Gabriel and Mary, creating an Anunciación across the nave.

Completing our exploration, we ascent the Escalera de Soto to the upper cloisters.

 

 

 

 

 

 

By now, we 'get it': old Spanish buildings in this region are monochromatic. So, the surfaces and shadows do all the heavy lifting – no paint, no tiles, not even a mix of materials. On a late, sunny afternoon, they simply absorb the colors of the landscape and of the atmosphere. And it's enough. It's more than enough, it can be sublime.

In a miraculously maintained medieval cloister, we can be monks. It is silent, yet the whole world is present.

 

 

From the Claustro Alto, we access the Coro. Remnants of stained-glass panels break the monochrome, but their stories are illegible. Our gaze follows the curvilinear tracery of the vaults to the altar, and with our eye-line right near the center, the gilt elements sparkle and infuse the edges.

We turn, and though we cannot enter the area with the choir stalls, are overwhelmed by the vivid animation of Palomino's of Triunfo. The carriage wheel anchors the composition; the artist has signed the rim. Out front, a team of horses tramples the evil that threatens the church, as San Domingo (mark on his forehead, just above the wheel, just below God) provides direction. At the back of the carriage is the Pope, with his Bible open to Matthew 1:1 – back to basics, start anew:

Libre generationis Jesu Christi

[The book of the generation of Jesus Christ …]

 

 

 

 

So that's today's lesson. The story never ends, we must make new, renew, anew. Architecture is a communal art, and everyone adds a layer – add your own creatures, your own space people.

Having covered the southern, 'fat' end of the 'gumdrop', for our after-dinner walk, we venture north. Near the Puerta de Zamora the old city ends, and traffic flashes by. Tucked into this urban pocket is the Iglesia de San Marcos (12th century). We enter just as services start, so cannot offer any pictures. Big crowd tonight, but we had not intended to stay. At the first opportunity, we slip out. But after nearly a thousand years, life in this church goes on.