A QUEEN FOR A DAY

The nearest I’ve ever been to a real palace was when I was staring through fortified gates hoping to get a fleeting glimpse of one of the British royals. The guards on duty at Buckingham Palace possess little to no sense of humour and an innate lack of emotion.  My devious attempts at gaining information from them about the Queen and her family’s whereabouts were all in vain. So when I learned that we were going to visit the Brejoeira Palace in Monçâo, Portugal, I felt a certain vertigo of excitement to revive my fascination with all things royal.

This 19th-century neoclassical style palace, built by Luis Pereira Velha de Moscosa was declared a national monument in 1919 already but only opened its doors to the public in 2010.  The walled-in Brejoeira confidently boasting its imposing main gate is a protruding local landmark. The gardens indulge its typical English influence and are always kept in an absolute pristine condition.  Eighteen hectares of vineyards, a lake or two, a forest and statues of mythological figures are positioned all over the area.

Unfortunately, visitors are not allowed to take photos once inside the palace. Another disappointment was the absence of an English tour guide. For me and many non-Portuguese or Spanish visitors in our group, it was a bit of a discouragement and undeniably curbs your enthusiasm.

However, in true flair only a palace can deliver, the enormous halls, the impressive staircase, and wooden ceilings are opulently decorated with tapestries, exquisite furniture and imperial decorations accumulated over the years.  Walking through the palace I envisaged how the who’s who of Portugal’s famous elite spent their moonlit nights attending a social gathering or gala evening at the palace.  I imagined ladies all dressed in satin and silk and men in black tailcoats and white waistcoats with an air of authority and confidence, enjoying the hospitality of the masters and mistresses of the palace.  Submerging myself in all the opulence and lavishness around me was rewarding indeed and I was left mesmerised.

The wine has always been cultivated right there on the grounds, but mainly for personal use or was sold to local retail outlets.  The Palacio da Brejoeira brand was only launched in 1976 by Mrs. Dona Maria Herminia d’Oliveira Paes, the owner of the palace at the time, who also spearheaded the production of their own wine.

The palace changed hands numerous times since it was built in 1805 and at times has been very neglected, bankrupt and almost ruined.  Luckily Councilor Pedro Maria de Fonseca Araujo bought the palace at the start of the century and undertook major restoration of the property.

In 1937 Comendador Francisco d’Oliviera Paes bought the palace for his daughter Maria Herminia d’Oliveira Paes, who occupied it until her death in December 2015 at the age of 93.  She was the main driver behind the production of the wine that is distilled on the property until today.

Walking on the red carpet up that beautiful staircase of the Palace Brejoeira I realised something.  Even though the palace was never occupied by kings and queens, I felt regal on that glorious day.   Like the queen of my own castle.  I was ready to explore the rest of the region with my very own king by my side.

 

FRONT VIEW OF PALACE

THE ENTRANCE GATE

THE STAIRCASE (photo courtesy the palace)

LEFT WING OF PALACE

RIGHT WING OF PALACE

GARDENS

MARIA PAES (photo courtesy the palace)

WHERE THE DEER REIGNS

It was high summer in Portugal. My African skin and soul were in need of sun and heat after a couple of rainy days in Galicia.

My knowledge of Portugal has always been limited to the little I was taught in the history class at school. Bartolomeu Dias and Vasco de Gama and a few Portuguese friends in the neighbourhood was the extent of my knowledge of this remarkable country bordering the North of Spain.

Our first stop in Portugal was at The Abrigo Das Andorinhas (The Shelter of the Swallows), a charming restaurant situated in the historical centre of Vila Nova de Cerveira. The service at the restaurant was professional and the regional food served outstanding.

My persuasive host, also a worldly food connoisseur, suggested that I try my first traditional Portuguese bacalhau (dried cod). Although I am a seafood lover, the salted dried fish on display in some of the food markets did nothing for my taste buds and I was hesitant to try it.

The bacalhau is traditionally served with potato, lots of olive oil and rustic bread. As a side, we also ordered bolinhos de bacalhau (fried fish cake), another Portuguese delicacy, which I did not really like. Of course, a refreshing glass of local wine was added to compliment this fish feast. Although bacalhao is not native to Portugal the Portuguese are passionate about it. The dried fish is imported from Norway and Newfoundland. A popular saying that the Portuguese know 365 ways to cook bacalhau, one for each day of the year, is not far from the truth.

Hunger pains gone and bodies refreshed and we were ready to explore this delightful settlement. Vila Nova de Cerveira, hidden in the Miňho valley, is surrounded by mountains and a lush countryside. The town is a gem with age-old buildings rubbing shoulders with modern-day statues and sculptures. The town’s rich history and culture date back hundreds of years. It was founded in 1321 by King Denis of Portugal who ordered his men to build the Gothic style castle, which today is still the most important and imposing landmark of the town.

Legend has it that the gods of Olympus crowned a deer (cerveira) as king and he, with fellow stags (deers), settled on the banks of the Miňho river, which became known as Terras de Cerveira (land of the stags). Conflict and clashes followed and the only living stag that remained was the king. During a clash with a Spanish nobleman, the latter was killed and the king stag kept the nobleman's banner as a trophy. Today the stag, as well as the banner, are incorporated in their coat of arms and the deer features all over town in statues and curio and art shops.

My love for European churches, monasteries and cathedrals brought us to the 16th-century Baroque style Igreja Matriz,(Church of St Cyprian). The church, in the main plaza of the town, was designed by Verisimo Barbosa. Its immaculate interior decorated with beautiful fresh flowers and mass music in the background soothes a weary traveller.

We were lucky in that the town was a flurry of activity because the townspeople were in the process of preparing for the upcoming Crochet Veste com Arte Festival (Crochet Festival. It offered interesting art and curio shops, sprightly and cheerful street cafes, exquisite crochet work and colourful overhead umbrellas. The festival had turned this utopian town into a flamboyant euphoria for us to soak in.

I stood in awe in front of one of the houses fully covered with crocheting and I wondered how many hours must have gone into such a masterpiece. Every stitch crocheted with love. Every stitch flawlessly positioned in place.

It was with sadness and these words of Chief Seattle in mind that I bid the vila farewell:  “Take only memories, leave only footprints.”  My footprints lay scattered all over Vila Nova de Cerveira, and my memories are safely stored in my mind.

COAT OF ARMS

THE MIGHTY MINHO

BACALHAU OND DISPLAY

BACALHAU SERVED WITH POTATOES AND BREAD

THE CASTLE

THE CHURCH

CHURCH INTERIOR

STATUE OF THE STAG

SCULPTURES IN TOWN GARDEN

THE TOWN PLAZA

THE STAG

OVERHEAD UMBRELLAS

STREET CAFES

ADVERTISING THE CROCHET FESTIVAL

CROCHET WORK

A CROCHET MASTERPIECE

ENTIRE