Obidos and Azenhas do Mar

Obidos  Sept 3^rd-7^th

 Driving inland from Peniche to the small, walled, Medieval town of Obidos, we drive out of the fog that has hung over the coast for the last three days. Our spirits immediately lift, which is a relief as the damp and cold of Baleal were not proving advantageous. I took few photos and Stella wrote no songs.

Obidos is a popular choice for tourists, most of whom come for the day. We feel very privileged to be staying within the walls of the town, just below the castle. It becomes obvious that most people only stay a short time as the guitar player who sat at the gate in earshot of our place, played three songs, one of which was ‘Love Song’ on repeat from 8am -6pm.

The slightly unhinged but prodigious accordion player, who sang in an operatic falsetto, at the other gate, was another story. I could have watched him all day if it wasn’t for the strange impression that we were somewhat intruding on a private moment.

The specialty of Obidos is a cherry liquor in chocolate cups and medieval castle paraphernalia. Louie buys a bow and arrows with his pocket money and resumes shooting cans outside, on our very lovely but very public outdoor terrace, where, during breakfast, other tourists drift by remarking on how lucky we are. Whether they are referring to our seemingly idyllic existence is hard to tell. It seems we have them fooled too.

On the first night, the fog travels all the way from the coast and envelops the town.

Azenhas do Mar,  Sept 7^th – 13th

This little beachside settlement, about 50 minutes north of Lisbon, clinging to the side of the cliff above the sea, is one of the places I booked really early on, and in my mind, represented everything romantic about Portugal.

The house belongs to Paolo, who is about seventy. He has been coming here from Lisbon since he was a child and the house feels very loved land smells like a bach.   There are views of the Atlantic from every window and a terrace with a BBQ, where we can sit and watch the sea. There is a little path that leads down to the beach path below and the boys take off with their buckets and spades. We all breathe a sigh of relief. There is plenty of space here.

We brave the sea on a couple of occasions and lay in the sun, happy that for now, the fog has not followed us.

When the fog does descend, we drive a short way inland to Sintra, a city of castles and beautiful parks.

We walk the 2km uphill through the gardens to Pena Palace, the summer residence of the former Portuguese Royal Family.

It is a strange mixture of Disney and Moorish architecture, with a dash of Xena and Hercules and it is swimming with tourists. The walk through the Palace gardens is very beautiful and there are lakes and little follies, ornately tiled Moorish out-houses and a surprisingly large collection of New Zealand natives.

We walk such a distance on this day that our plans to visit all of Sintra in one go, are put aside and we return on another misty day to visit Quinta de Regeleira, once home to Portugal’s richest man, who created a mythical, magical wonderland of grottos, turrets and water features.

There is a waterfall and grotto with stepping stones that lead to a series of caves and tunnels that come out at one point at the foot of the “Initiation Well”, a bit like Dante’s Inferno, winding downwards into the earth.

This is the most amazing garden we have ever seen.

Another day in Sintra at Quinta da Regaleira

After a full day we drive, on Rachel and Issa’s recommendation, out to the coast, a little further South of our house and visit Praia da Ursa, the most beautiful beach, which requires quite a hike to reach. The place is full of brazen nudists. I suppose all nudists are brazen, otherwise they’d  be clothed. There is one particular man who seems to walk into frame every time I try to capture a  photo of the beach.

Back home to Azenhas do Mar