Tag Archives: Portugal

Funchal has it all

As well flâneurs who like to go out for a walk on the promenades, as those laid back travelers who prefer to hang around in parks to enjoy the green grass: Funchal offers a place to everyone. From the urban chic to the cultural creatives and everything in between. Funchal has it all.

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Traditional white-brown houses are mixed with modern cubiste buildings against a backdrop of an Azure blue sky, palmtrees and the Atlantic Ocean. Old fishermen are strolling over the local fruit and vegetable mercado in the center of Funchal. The bubbly shopping area is crowded with international students, tourists, business people and some locals, while yellow cabs are in the waiting line for customers.

Market in Fuchal

In Funchal is an overwhelming amount of wild parks with red, pink and orange flowers: a mix of subtropical and Mediterranean flora and fauna. Here you can relax for a moment, or two, while the vibrant and cosmopolitan heart of the centre keeps on beating. The atmosphere is sophisticated, but easy going.

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A walk through the district of Rua de Santa Maria in Zone Velha, with it’s dazzling number of bars and restaurants, offers a colourfull palette of painted doors and walls from the Art Project of Open Doors. The diversity of artistic landscapes is astonishing.

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After your city walk you can take a break at Gigi’s Sumos, a juice bar at the Rua Dom Carlos. The wall next to the terrace has a mural of golden leaves, which is painted by one of the artists of it’s neighbour Gallery Creamar. There is a permanent exhibition with a free entrance. Most probably you will meet one of  the artists who works there.

Juicebar Gigi Somos

Funchal is a traditional and modern mix of subtropical and Mediterranean influences, permanantly accompagnied with a mild breeze from the ocean, and  bohémian with it’s creative hub in the middle of the centre. Funchal is in one word inspiring.
Funchal - Art Gallery Criamar

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Night Sailing

Night Sailing - From Sines to Sagres

Breaking waves are smashing against the boat as if they try to grab Ropati. The wind whistles and suddenly I can hear them. The voices of the Sirens. They are calling my name: ‘Helmaaaaa. O, Helma, please come with us. Helmaaaaaa.’  My fear fades away and takes place for a deep feeling of satisfaction. Peace is on my mind. 

‘Yes, please. Take me with you. Ow, yes!’ I stretch my arms out waiting for the Sirens to grab them. ‘Helmaaaa’. Suddenly a bright light shines in my face and I see the French Seaman right in front of me. He snarls: ‘ Come on. Your night shifts starts in five minutes. It is time to wake up now.’

Dam’n it, I was dreaming and now I have to get up in the middle of the night to take over the watch. For two hours I have to sail alone, while the others are sleeping. I feel excited. Staying awake and being alone outside in the cockpit, while it is dark and windy… Even when the night shift just lasts two hours, at the ocean it feels like a lifetime, especially when the moon is dark and the stars are hidden behind the clouds.

I get up out of bed and dress myself in my sail jacket.  With a big skarf around my head I climb outside. Nervously I look around. No other boats. I try to keep on moving to stay warm. After one hour I get hungry, but I am too scared to go inside. What if there is suddenly a boat in front of us? Every minute I look around. My thoughts are drifting away and in my mind I go back to my first sail adventures in The Netherlands with my friend Judith and her father. I just turned into fourteen and together we went on a sail holiday in Friesland, Brittany of The Netherlands. During this trip I was not afraid at all. Not even a split of a second.

Here I am, sixteen years later, with more safety equipement aboard then in those days, and scared to death. Nowadays I can oversee the risks (for as far as possible), which is good on the one hand, but on the other hand this awareness has replaced my innocence. Tired and afraid I start seeing and hearing things. The sounds of the sea are like old songs hidden in my unconscious mind. The melody of the the wind and waves is soothing. Slowly I calm down and suddenly I understand how all the stories of sailors, the myths and the seaside sagas are shaped. Their existence is founded in the bewildered minds of seamen sailing at night.

Portugal, ‘where the land ends and the sea begins’

0 (2)     Mural by ARM Collective – Lisbon, 2013

Discovering the history of Portugal is discovering the maritime world. Together with Henry the Navigator and Luís de Camões, my first historical guides, I explore the maritime history of Portugal, Europe and the world. Portugal, country of brave seamen, epic voyages and the rise and fall of a global maritime power.

The Camões square is the heart of ‘bohemian Lisbon’ and is located in between the quarters Chiado and Bairro Alto. It belongs to one of the most vibrant squares of the city, where guides are talking about Henry the Navigator and Luís de Camões during their tour. History as a product for the tourist industry. Portugal, once discovering the world and now selling itself to that same world for just a couple of euro’s.

“‘Where the land ends and the sea begins.’ The tourguides starts his lesson, right in front of the group, in the middle of the square: “These poetic words describe Europe’s most south-western country and are written by Luís de Camões in his 9,000 lines long epic poem Os Lusíadas. The commercial maritime power of Portugal is the most important theme in his writings. Inspired by his life as a merchant seaman, and his voyages to Africa and Asia, Camões finishes his masterpiece after his return to Lisbon. Finally he prints Os Lusíadas in 1572, just a couple of years before he dies on the 10th of June in 1580.”

The group of Germans look around. Some visitors take pictures of the statue, while the tourguide continues his story: “The day of his death has become a national day in Portugal – the Camões Day. His epic poem belongs to the highlights of European Renaissance and is by far the most important work in the history of Portuguese literature. His statue, in the middle of the square that is named after him, reminds passengers of the golden ages of discoveries in the 15th and 16th century.” Camões looks serious, while he is holding his famoes poem Os Lusíadas. Some people in the group are yawning, tired of the long walk in the burning sun.

In front of the statue hang around some queery teenagers, a drunk man with a plastic bottle of cheap beer, and another group of tourists waiting for their tourguide. Mixed feelings of happiness and sadness can be felt, while walking around this area. The city of light breaths the glory of expansion and at the same time is filled with sadness of a fallen empire. Who really has read Os Lusiadas? Why is Camöes such a hero? Questions are rising, while the tourguide is leading his group into Bairro Alto where he continues his talk.

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Praça Luìs de Camões, Lisbon

“Lusíadas refers to the Lusitanians, an ancient tribe located between the river Tejo and the river Douro at the Iberian Peninsula. Around 197 AC the Romans arrive in Portugal and a violent confrontation follows. After decades of war the Romans win, but not without loosing thousands of soldiers. The rebellious Lusitanians don’t accept authority that easy and it takes another 150 years to stabilize the area. Under the Roman Pax the Lusitanians slowly evolve in a self-governed community and this is the beginning of the birth of a communal identity, which is nowadays claimed as ‘Portuguese’.

Under Roman rule Christianity is flourishing and after the fall of the Roman Empire around 400 AC the Christian Visigoths become the most dominant tribe among the immense amount of tribes on the Iberian Peninsula. Internal fights and the lack of unity pave the way for the the Islamic Moors and around 700 AC the first Moorish troops arrive in Gibraltar. In the process of conquest the well-educated Muslims spread their knowledge about navigation, irrigation, medicines, mathematics, the old Greek texts, and the Islam.

For 370 years the Moors are ruling the Iberian Peninsula until the 11th century, when the Christians start their Reconquista. In collaboration with the Order of Knights Templar, the richest Christian institution in the western world, and with the help of Henri of Burgundy, the Moors are slowly defeated. In 1139 the first Christian king Afonso Henriques settles down and the boundaries of Portugal as an independent nation are formalized. A long and complicated royal history follows and aristocratic affairs are daily practices during the late Middle Ages. They marry, they fight, they querrel and this finally leads to the birth of prince Henrique in the 14th century.

henry-navigator     Henry the Navigator

The thirds son of João I from Portugal and the English Philippa of Lancaster marks a turningpoint in the pre-modern history of Portugal. Prince Henrique, alias Henry the Navigator, leads Portugal to the discovery of the New Worlds. Together with Vasco de Gama, the first man who sailed around the cape of Africa to India, they belong to Portugal’s national hero’s representing the flourishing maritime trade of Portugal in the 15th and 16th century. Henry the Navigator is the first figure of the monument in Belém, where also the famous tower and the Hïeronymus Cathedral are located. The overwhelming Manuel style characterises the Portuguese Renaissance. We also offer tours to that part of the city.”

The voice of the tourguide fades away. I close my book and look around the Camöes square. Some philosophical thoughts are entering my mind. “If Henry the Navigator has become the symbol of the Portuguese discoveries, perhaps Luís de Camões is the maritime consiousness of Portugal? Two figures that have become a touristic attraction in Lisbon, but who are they really and what happened to them? What happened with Portugal? Once the ‘first global power’ and now struggling in todays globalized world?” I take a nip from my bica and put the history book in my bag. Enough readings for today.

While researching the maritime history many unhidden stories are unfolding. It is hard to distinguish myths from facts. I take a deep breath and start walking downhills into the direction of the river Tagus. I have to hurry to catch the ferry to Seixal. History has many faces and I just have met a few. In search for more hidden stories of Portugal I slowly discover the treasures of the Atlantic Ocean. Right on time I catch the boat. Through the window of the ferry I see Lisbon becoming smaller and smaller. Suddenly I know what the title will be of my next article: Portugal, ‘where the land ends and the sea begins’.

Photo 1: ARM Collective (2013) – visao.sapo.pt

Photo 2: huehueteotl.wordpress.com

Photo 3: http://visitnorthportugal.com

Amora, an urban village

5011947

 

With one arm leaning in the open window the old grandfather spends his lonely hours with looking around. Social controle as a daily routine. A few windows higher on the left side an overweighted housewive puts the laundry on a washing line outside. A mild breeze blows and the colourful line of laundry is dancing in the wind as if the building is celebrating it’s birthday. Life goes slow and the living is easy.

Amora is a small village inbetween Seixal and Almada at the peninsula Sétubal. It is surrounded with hilly landscapes of ancient trees and located ten kilometers from the longest coastline of the region. The old village is blessed with a beautiful view on the river Tagus and the skyline of Lisbon, but is like many other small villages swallowed by Lisbon’s urbanization. The historical centre, with it’s white fisherhouses, has a big backyard fully built with monotone blocks of concrete. Old trees and ruins of quintas give a friendly touch to the awkward environment of cheap construction that quickly arose after the Carnation Revolution of 1974.

On the other side of the street loud music is playing. Breakbeats fill the street accompanied with fat tuga – Portuguese slang. On the walls are some graffiti and in the corner of the street wanders around a lost plastic bottle searching for a new destination. In the morning people greet each other in the pastelaria, where locals drink their bica(espresso) before going to work, while others drink their wake-up moscatel, a sweet Portuguese wine. In the afternoon around lunch time the smoke of grilled sardinhas can be smelled everywhere in the village. Fresh fish straight from the barbeques that are exposed in the corners of the street. At night neighbours meet again in the supermercado, where they have a little chit, while they do their daily shopping.

Across the parks next to the river is a second hand shop. Descent dresses and retro fourniture for just for a couple of euro’s. A dark haired girl chews on her bubblegum, while she is waiting for visitors. A couple of streets away is a cultural house. Here young people learn breakdancing, while the elder sing their Fado’sduring singing classes. Just once a year Amora is crowded when the local Communist Party organize Festival Avante in September. This festival attract thousands of people from all around Portugal and Europe. There is music, food and performance three days long. Only then you can expect lines of cars on the roads which are normally almost empty.

Amora, a post-colonial meltingpot where the old rural life meets the urban generation: a wonderful hub with people from all around the world just fourty minutes from Lisbon on the other side of the river Tagus. Take a ferry to Seixal and from there a bus to Amora and look around in this eccentric urban village.

http://www.panoramio.com/photo/5011947