Activities
AN AUTUMN JOURNEY TO “THE BACK OF BEYOND” BY MAFALDA POSSOLO
The October 2005 outing of the British Historical Society to far off Trás-os-Montes was truly a journey to “the back of beyond”! 32 members from Lisbon and Estoril set out early on the first lap of our journey and to mention the words “cats & dogs” would hardly do justice to the rain which accompanied us nearly all the way to Oporto. After several months of near drought, the heavens decided “whimsically” on this of all days to open the floodgates and pour the much needed rain on us!
Damp but undaunted, we eventually arrived at the Oporto Cricket & Lawn Tennis Club, where we picked up three further members and had a most excellent and cheering lunch prior to the last lap of our journey to Bragança, where the well-run Hotel de Turismo S. Lázaro was to be our headquarters during our 5-night stay.
Bragança is the capital of the most north-easterly and remote province of Portugal, Trás-os-Montes. Due to the lack of means of transportation, it was traditionally cut off, down the centuries, from the rest of the country. This province is naturally divided in half, the south with a milder climate and fertile soil, is known as the “Terra Quente” whilst the rugged north with great extremes of temperature – «Nine months of winter and three months of hell» - is known as the “Terra Fria”.
On our first morning, we went off on foot to visit the historic centre of the town, the Cidadela, which includes the castle keep, with its fine military museum and sweeping views, the church of Santa Maria do Castelo with its unusual and very expressive figure of Mary Magdalene, a pillory standing on the back of one of the pre-historic porcas which proliferate in the region, and above all the irregular pentagonal building known as the “Domus Municipalis”, one of the very few non-religious Romanesque buildings still in existence. Later we walked down to the beautifully laid out Regional Museum of the Abade de Baçal.
Inhabited since pre-historic times, Bragança has seen many different civilizations: Celts, Romans, Arabs, etc. Signs of these varied occupations were apparent in village names that afternoon when we drove north across the Montesinho Natural Park to the primitive little village of Rio de Onor which is on the border with Spain. It is unique in the sense that half the village is in Spain and half in Portugal – the Spanish half called Riohonor de Castilla. The village’s extreme isolation has encouraged the development of systems of justice and mutual co-operation that are independent of their respective nations. The houses are built of wood and slate, the ground floor being kept for the cattle. For safety reasons, the doors are secured with locks and keys - made entirely of wood! The few remaining elderly inhabitants speak a hybrid dialect known as “Rionorês”. Unusually, due to the unique nature of their way of life, they have submitted an application to be admitted to the European Union as an independent entity.
One day we crossed into Spain following the pastoral upper reaches of the Upper Douro to visit the towns of Toro and Tordesillas. In Toro, we saw the Monasterio de Sancti Spiritus el Real, which has been the home of a community of contemplative Dominican nuns for nearly eight centuries. Our reason for visiting this convent was to see the lovely Gothic alabaster tomb of D. Beatriz de Portugal, an unfortunate princess who was married to the King of Castile and widowed in 1390 at the age of eighteen. Unable to return to Portugal for historic-political reasons, she did not become a nun but spent many periods living peacefully in a house adjacent to the convent until she died there some 20 years later.
We also visited the Collegiate Church of Santa Maria la Mayor which houses not only the lovely 16th century Flemish painting of “La Virgen de la Mosca” but also, most especially, an outstanding treasure, the “Portico de la Majestad”. One of the most beautiful examples of Romanesque art, this has seven recessed arches carved with royal and biblical themes and as it was protected, within a few years of being completed, by the construction of a large “hall” covering the outer wall, the colours of the painted carvings can still be admired close to their pristine state.
Despite teeming rain, we went on in the afternoon to Tordesillas, where we saw the Real Monasterio de Santa Clara, another living convent, this time of Poor Clares. Originally a wonderful palace in Mudejar style, building was begun by King Afonso XI of Castile and continued by his son D. Pedro the Cruel. D. Pedro bequeathed the mansion to his daughter Beatrice with the wish that it should be converted to a convent. D. Juana of Castile, mother of the great Holy Roman Emperor Carlos V and sadly known as Juana la Loca, was confined in a house within the convent grounds for many years. We were pleased to know that her rehabilitation is now under way, as demonstrated by her fine modern statue in a square nearby.
We paid a brief visit to the Casa del Tratado, a memorial to the 1494 negotiation of the historic Treaty of Tordesillas, by which territorial rights to the New World yet to be discovered were neatly divided between Portugal and Spain.
On our last day, we travelled some 70 kms, southward, across wide sweeps of sunlit uplands, to Miranda do Douro and as we drove down to the small quay sunk between high cliffs on either side of the Douro we remembered that this was where the Duke of Wellington, wishing to confer with his officers stationed on the opposite bank, was slung in a basket from one cliff top to the other, high above the fast-flowing rapids. The waters are wider and calmer now because of the various dams which control the flow and our party soon embarked on a shallow-hulled boat, furnished with all the equipment needed to observe the wild life of the area by day and by night, for a most memorable “ecological” cruise on this international stretch of the River Douro. As we went on board we were warned to be very quiet and realised that the glass roof of the boat was intended to stifle the sound of our voices, rather than to protect us from a possible shower. The charming and knowledgeable young man who had us in charge pointed out the habitats of various birds and river creatures and showed us an eagle in full flight. At one stage we pulled in to the shore on the Portuguese side of the river and our intrepid group climbed the steep bank to a small terrace of arable soil laboriously carried down there by manual labour in days gone by. We saw a small, round stone cabin and our guide showed us how its inhabitants would have hauled up water, bucket by bucket, using a primitive wooden crane known as a cegonha, and the hollowed out tree trunks in which bees were kept. This was an unforgettable morning sailing between awe inspiring cliffs, sometimes up to 600 ft. high, and watching some of the species of wildlife that abound there. Most people agreed it was one of the highlights of the week and it was rounded off, when we returned to the quay in Miranda do Douro, by a glass of port and a demonstration of the flight of the bufo real a night-flying bird of prey which looked like a loveable owl but which its handler warned us was in fact not at all cuddly. The cruise on the Douro Internacional runs daily throughout the year except on public holidays. For further information readers should contact: Europarques Hispano-Lusos (Phone: 273-432-396; Website: www.europarques.com; e-mail: info@europarque.com).
The historic centre of Miranda is a bright, smiling place, the sun was shining and we spent a happy couple of hours visiting the little local museum and dropping in to the cathedral to see its fine altar piece, its strangely beautiful choir stalls (whose origin and history nobody could tell us) and the curious little statue of the Menino Jesus da Cartolinha (the Child Jesus in a Top Hat) with his wardrobe of tiny shirts, suits and shoes displayed around him.
Filled with wonder at so many fine sights, we gathered on our last evening in the comfortable and welcoming surroundings of the Pousada de S. Bartolomeu in Bragança for a delicious farewell dinner and this was followed on our final drive south next day by a no less delicious arroz de tamboril at a very simple restaurant in the spectacularly lovely lagoon city of Aveiro.