Batalha, Nazaré, and Óbidos

When I went to Mexico City with an Air Force buddy in 1977, my travel agent signed us up for a couple of tours on an otherwise ridiculously cheap, no-frills trip. Those excursions didn't strike me as particularly noteworthy at the time.  Perhaps that's why I never pushed for guided excursions over many years traveling with Julie.

In the last decade, however, Julie and I have come to value that insider's perspective of a destination expert.  Several of our guides on our recent trip held master's degrees in tourism or history, a level of expertise which seems more common than you would imagine in the relatively low-paid travel industry.

I can't say that I remember everything that guides share verbatim, as we all internalize our realities through our own life-experience prisms.  In my case, that can include my bad habit of drifting off into my own thought tangents while another person is still speaking.  Still, I remember enough to be able to later verify anything I find to be of particular interest, in addition to the obvious benefit of our guide's narration inevitably enhancing our experience in the present moment.  Of course, some things are obvious to all who can see, like the way sunlight shining through the stained glass created a magical effect at Mosteiro da Batalha that we've never seen in any of the hundreds of churches and cathedrals we've visited previously in our lives.

The guides can also tell you exactly the right place to look to find the most significance of a site, and occasionally even take you off the official itinerary.  While a recorded hop-on, hop-off bus recorded guide helps --- and in a foreign country where translations are done in several languages, that might be the only way it can be done --- there's nothing like a live local guide to learn more about a region.

Such was the case with our extended day trip from Lisbon.  Our guide Nuno directed the driver to take a side trip to Mosteiro da Batalha (Monastery of Battle), saying that because it happened to be about halfway between Fátima and Nazaré, he felt it would be a shame for us to miss it.

In this age of increasing secularism, Portugal remains 81% Catholic.  Though only a fourth of them attend mass regularly, the country's culture and history is steeped in Catholicism.

Mosteiro da Batalha is a magnificent Gothic Cathedral, one designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site for being both an "absolute masterpiece of Gothic Art" and as the focus of the Portuguese monarchy for over two centuries, it was the site that set the standard for national art during the Renaissance as well as the Gothic period.  Actually, the monastery was never completed, because royal priorities changed several generations later, shifting the artisans and construction workers to Jerónimos Cathedral in Belem, which we would see the next day.  In a section called the Unfinished Chapels, columns rise with buttresses to support a vaulted roof that was never added at Batalha.

Construction of the Monastery of Batalha began in 1386 under King João to commemorate the prior year's victory over Castile in the Battle of Aljubarrota that maintained Portugal's independence.

Without getting too deeply into the weeds, João's half-brother, King Ferdinand I of Portugal, had died without a male heir, so his "heir presumptive" daughter Beatrice became Queen of Portugal in late 1383.  Because she married King John I of Castile, well-founded fears that Portugal would be annexed by Castile led to João of Aviz being named king by the Portuguese royal establishment.  Though it seems needlessly confusing, João is often called King John I of Portugal.

Castile had attacked Portugal to reclaim their Queen Consort Beatrice's realm.  In some ways, it unfolded like the Habsburg intrigues of Maria Theresa's family but with the opposite outcome.

While Castile during the Reconquista is only part of modern Spain, it was significantly larger and more powerful than Portugal.  English troops, however, fought alongside Portugal.  This falling within the time frame of the Hundred Years War, France took the side of Castile, but French  military assistance was not sufficient in this battle.

In 1386, the Treaty of Windsor was signed between Portugal and England, beginning the long alliance that over 500 years later brought Portugal into World War I.  In 1387, King João married Philippa of Lancaster, a member of the English royal family, solidifying the alliance.

As proof that arranged marriages sometimes work better than "chemistry," their children, including Henry the Navigator, became known as the "Illustrious Generation of Portugal."  They brought about Portugal's prominence in the Age of Discovery.  Incidentally, all of them are entombed right there at the Monastery of Batalha.

In front of the Monastery is a statue of our guide's namesake, Nuno Álvares Pereira, who as Constable of Portugal commanded their armies in the commemorated battle in lowlands a couple of miles away from the monument (churches tend to be built on high ground so they can be seen for miles in age long before google maps).  His horse has one foreleg raised, signifying that Constable Nuno was seriously wounded in battle but lived to tell the tale.  Had he suffered mortal wounds and died on the field of battle, both of the horse's front legs would be raised.

We had a half hour to wander through the monastery interior on our own, but Nuno said we didn't have time for it to be worth taking audio tours available for six Euro, especially since Batalha wasn't actually a scheduled part of our excursion.

We continued our drive to the hillside village of Sítio in Nazaré.  On this particular day, a marine layer obscured the views.

"Fishermen Wives" wearing their traditional outfit of seven skirts while hawking nuts, figs and dates from little stands were probably happy for the cooler temperatures brought by the cloud cover.  If we had more room in our suitcases, we probably would have bought some of their nutritious treats to bring home.

The Legend of Nazaré. involves a tiny chapel, Capela da Memória, overlooking the coast from the cliffside.  As in nearby Fátima, the story involves the Virgin Mary, who in this case is logically called Our Lady of Nazaré.  The chapel houses a statue of the Virgin Mary carved while she was still alive in her earthly form.  It was sculpted by Saint Joseph and painted by Saint Luke (yes, the apostle with the third Gospel).  In about the year 711,  the last King of the Visigoths, Roderic, placed the stature on an altar in a grotto on that spot where a monk named Romano was buried.  Shortly thereafter, Roderic and most of the Visigoth leaders were killed in a battle in the Battle of Guadalete, which would soon lead to the fall of the Visigoth's capital of Toledo.

Flash forward to 1182, when Portugal had been reclaimed from the Moors by Christian Crusaders.  A Knight Templar named Fuas Roupinho, who was first admiral of the Portuguese fleet, was hunting in the Sítio area on a day even foggier than the one we found there.

Riding a galloping horse through what was probably a forest back then, chasing a deer through the low clouds, he almost rode off a cliff but was saved by Our Lady of Nazaré.

There are several things I'm not sure about, including whether it was actually the statue or a vision of the Virgin that stopped him from riding over the cliff, and how do they actually know the provenance of that statue?  Once again, I guess it comes down to what you believe.  In any case, in 1377, a considerably larger church, the Sanctuary of Our Lady of Nazaré, was built nearby, with construction begun by João's half-brother, King Ferdinand I (remember them from Batalha?), with embellishments added into the nineteenth century.

From Sítio, we drove down to Nazaré's fishing village of Praia, which evolved to be downtown Nazaré over the last two centuries when threats of piracy declined. 

Nuno recommended a few restaurants, including an ocean-view cafe serving meats as well as seafood.  I enjoyed an enormous swordfish steak meal for 11 Euro.  The waiter ended up charging for the bread that he offered and the olive oil --- which came with a bowl of large Portuguese olives --- that we requested, but we loved it.  While Julie's chicken wasn't as delicious as the local specialties, we were quite pleased with the overall experience.

Back in our van, we headed to the medieval village of Óbidos.  Its history actually traces much further back than medieval times, all the way back to a Celtic settlement at least several hundred years Before Christ.

As with much of Europe, the Romans put their stamp on what became Óbidos after arriving in the third century BC. Their western empire fell to the Visigoths around the fifth century, whose rule was relatively short and little documented.

The Moors arrived around 713 and held the citadel city until 1148, when Crusader Knights stormed the castle to claim it on behalf of the first King of Portugal, Alfonzo Hernriques.

Most of the shops in Óbidos contained some merchandise emblazoned with the red Knights Templar Cross on white background, the same emblem I remember distinctly from elementary school history books as being on the sails of Christopher Columbus's ships, the Nina, Pinta and Santa Maria.

Our arrival wasn't nearly as perilous as that of Papal-sanctioned Christian soldiers re-taking a Muslim stronghold.

We just walked through the gate beyond thick city walls to a small shop where our guide Nuno soon treated us to cherry liqueur in chocolate cups.  If like me, you fondly remember Queen Anne Chocolate Covered Cherries as a childhood Christmas gift, you would love this similar adult treat.

That store also had cork post cards, hats and purses, utilizing that natural product of Portugal in ways I never would have imagined.  Julie loved the purses but was deterred by the price tags.  We opted for the usual glossy picture post cards, a more questionable choice.

We meandered through the scenic streets, simply enjoying the ambiance while window shopping.  When we reached a scenic cafe, one of the sidewalk tables opened, and it seemed our timing was perfect for afternoon cappuccino in a delightful spot.

No waiter showed up to take our order, so I went inside to place the order.  The man behind the counter seemed busy with the work of being busy, too preoccupied to look up, much less serve a customer.  A waiter holding a tray walked over from the adjoining storefront to pick up a drink order, so I pointed to the table outside, held up two fingers and said "Dos cappuccinos?"  He nodded.

"Should I just go out there to wait?"  He nodded.

Returning to our table, we enjoyed watching the world go by, but after ten minutes, the waiter had still not arrived.  I went back inside, and again could catch no one's attention.

The waiter seemed to have vanished.

We only had a few minutes to get back to the gate, so we decided to move along, snapping a few more photos but not feeling we had time to finish coffee before boarding the van for our return trip to Lisbon.

The poor cafe service didn't stop us from loving our day trip to the countryside outside Lisbon, though we both would like to delve more deeply into lovely Óbidos.  We enjoyed our brief time there.

Nazaré

Batalha