Montemor-o-Novo
Transcription
Montemor-o-Novo
MONDAY, DECEMBER 29, 2008 Bangkok Post Montemor-o-Novo HOLIDAY TIME Local leather cobbler continue to practice their craft on the back streets of Mont-O-Mor. ‘Where everything started when the Portuguese kingdom decided to discover the world’ Story and Photos by ROBERT DAVIS O utside the Aeropuerto de Lisboa, the sun shone bright and the air was pleasantly fresh. The breeze off the Tagus River was strong with autumn and I thought it would make for good driving weather. Unsnapping the soft-top off the Jeep, I rolled it up neatly and secured it to the roll bar. "If you get cold I will put it back up," I said to Isabella, a friend from Peru who was traveling with me. "Do you think it might," she asked in the Castellano language. "Not at first, but you never know once we get into the highlands." Leaving Lisbon, we crossed the Vasco da Gamma Bridge and below whitecaps were flaking the Atlantic. I drove southeast, changing autopistas a couple of times and it was not long until we turned onto the A6 and signs kept indicating how many more kilometers until Evora. Soon we entered the territory charted on the map as the Iberian Peninsula; bull-breeding country with plateaus full of scrub pines, salt licks and rocky hillsides. Sure enough, you could see the bulls moving slowly under tall umbrella pine trees. Outside the jeep the wheat fields of the Alentejo plains were golden ripe and we drove past orange groves and big branched olive trees that looked silvery in the shining sun. I wanted to visit some friends in MontO-Mor, a little town just thirty kilometers before Evora. Mont-O-Mor is built high up, surrounded by a ring of hills and it feels like you are in a teacup. On the eastern front, there is the Castle MontO-Mor and the remains of its walls still loom high and stretch out along the hilltop. The physical layout here is a bit awkward with streets built from cobbled stone and you are either walking uphill or downhill, but rarely on even land for very long. There is very little traffic here, and one gets the feeling that all of the young working generation have left for Lisbon. There are no franchises here either, but you will pass cafes and bars on both sides of each street and, of course, there is a butcher and grocer just about everywhere too. Many visitors to Portugal pass right by Mont-O-Mor on their way to Evora, a Unesco World Heritage Site. It is easy to do, because historically speaking Evora packs a big punch. Celebrated by the Romans, invaded by the Barbarians, conquered by the Moors and liberated by Christians, its architecture, a melting pot of past rulers, is a gem of the Golden Age. My friends, Dr. José Barros and his lovely wife, Maria do Céu, or Dona Maria as most call her, own the Monte Alentejano Hotel. They also own the farmhouse, Quinta dos Olhos d’Agua, that they renovated. At the farmhouse, they rent out apartment style rooms to friends and to friends of friends. Mont-O-Mor where everything started when the Portuguese Kingdom decided to discover the world. K C M Y E While Mont-O-Mor serves as the hub of the axis linking central and south Portugal, it remains relatively unknown. However, it was not always like this. It is said that Mont-O-Mor is where everything started when the Portuguese kingdom decided to discover the world. Dr. José Barros is a lawyer by trade and a Portuguese scholar by passion. His deep bass voice, thick shock of silver hair and ramrod straight posture, shaped by years of horse riding, give him an added air of authority. Dona Maria has been a teacher for disabled children for twenty-seven years and also manages the hotel. Dinner was served outside on the hotel patio. The night air was crisp, but not cold and everyone wore sweaters. A bottle of Don Mateo rose wine was brought out in bucket of ice. When the food came, it came in bunches and it did not stop coming until the table was full and another table had to be brought alongside to accommodate it all. There was a heavy crusted peasant’s bread still warm from the oven; big black olives and fresh slabs of butter; a cheese made from sheep’s milk that was strong, pungent smelling and very creamy; black-eyed peas mixed with tuna fish and hard boiled eggs; bits of bacon with wild mushrooms and in an olive oil with dill seed; a rabbit stew with tomatoes and zucchini; and a codfish that had been dried and shredded and mixed with fried sliced potatoes and a raw onion. After dinner, espressos and steamed glasses of brandy were served. Having an audience brought out the best in Dr. Barros. "The voyage of Vasco da Gamma to discover India was decided right here in Montemor-o-Novo," he began after lighting a cigarette. "But I imagine what is most interesting to visitors is the grutas do escoural. Prehistoric art found in caves, where probably the most ancient horses head painting known in Europe. In the surrounding areas you can find art from different periods, from Paleolithic to the Neolithic." It was late when we arrived at the finca and Dr. Barros invited me to the living room for more cognac. Dona Maria showed Isabella to the guest rooms. The entire house had once been a barn and it also served as the living quarters for the ranch hands. The living room where we were now standing had been the stable. Copper kettles and deep cast iron skillets and a very old scythe hung from the stonewalls. On the far side of the room was a heavy wooded bookcase, Dr. Barros’s library. It was View of Mont-O-Mor town from the castle walls. stocked full of literary classics and works of poetry printed in Portuguese, Spanish, French and Italian. Next morning, I awoke at daybreak to the sound of a falling rain on the roof. It was not a big rain, but a light steady one and I unhitched the large bay doors that opened out onto the balcony. In the rain you could literally smell the heavy dank smell of autumn earth. Other farmhouses were spread throughout the plains, their thick red clay-tile roofs and whitewashed walls glistening. It seemed to me that each farmhouse had a little trestle of grapevines, an olive grove and fruit orchards. I thought what a good picture this village might make on a sunny day, with the sky bright blue and white cumulus clouds overhead, and all the grain fields bathed in gold with the threshing machines at work and the green of the distant cork-oak tree forests. After a breakfast, it was decided that Isabella and I should drive out to the Serra de Ossa for a walk. "There is a eucalyptus forest high up in the hills," Dr. Barros said. "It is a very spiritual walk. You feel as if you are close to the heavens." Walking tours in the region are very popular and for nearly a week, it was our routine each day to take a walk in a different part of Alentejo. Tonight was to be something special. It was the first night of the Feira de Colheitas, or Harvest Festival. The outside air was cool and with a sweater very pleasant and lanterns were lit, although the sky was filled with so many stars that we would not need them. From the balcony of my room I could see people, friends and neighbors of Dr. Barros and Dona Maria, walking up the long dirt road drive to the Finca, carrying dishes of food and bottles of wine that they later said were made from their own vineyards. I walked downstairs and out to the patio. A lamb stew was simmering in a large crock-pot swinging over the wood fire grill. Dona Maria handed me a chunk of the sharp Serpa cheese and a crust of bread and I sat down with a glass of chilled muscadet wine beside Don Manuel. A group of men, all locals, and all wearing similar brown derby hats and sweaters and pleated trousers stopped by to sing. They called it a choros du aletajon. It was something special to hear them singing slowly in chorus to a rhythm that someone tapped out with his foot on the stone floor. Across the patio and through the crowd, I saw Isabella reclining in a lawn chair with a glass of red wine in her hand. A slight breeze swayed a lantern that hung from the branch of an olive tree above her head. I would be leaving the next morning. Isabella had decided to stay on a little longer. Local villager working in the fields. Where to stay Monte Alentejano Hotel http://www.montealentejano.com.pt/ What to do? Wine and Walking tours are very popular in the Alentenjano Region and can be customized to the clients schedule. 5