Last day in Lisbon 

My flight was scheduled to depart at 2100 hours so I walked towards the eastern point of the Lisbon peninsula ending up at Belem. It is here there are two iconic structures of Lisbon. 

As well the original coal fired electricity station serving Lisbon has been turned into a remarkable Museum of Electricity! Well worth a visit for the engineers of this world 

And finally the inevitable Cathedral and monastery at Belem. This had by far the longest queue to gain entry! I needed but little excuse to remain outside. 


Summary of physical activity of the holiday 

One week cycling average

60 km a day

800m ascending a day 

Two week of walking

27 Flights climbed/day

18 Kilometres/day


0.25 glasses / day 


The final and fourth destination on the day tour was Obidos. It is the closest ancient walled town to Lisbon. It is thus a Mecca for tourist buses from the capital. However on this day it seemed relatively relaxed. It is very well maintained and not as potentially garish or gaudy as one may anticipate. Granted the predominant shops were alternating restaurants with arts and crafts boutiques. The other rather ubiquitous offering were stalls selling “nips” of Portuguese cherry liqueur in an edible chocolate thimble  for 1 euro.

I could not but fail to compare this commercialised walled town to the several relatively untainted medieval villages during my week of cycling 




The third port of call on our day trip, this is  fishing town with both an “old part” perched on the hilltop and a Gold Coast development down below with a wonderful expanse of water and high rises to the edge almost. I had lunch at a local cafe and ordered the fish stew! It was monstrous in quantity and acceptable in quality!  

see I told you it was like the Gold Coast


nuts by the sea with pigeon droppings


these delightful seaside houses in the older part and abandoned!!


roasted chestnuts without pigeon droppings!


the town square



This UNESCO heritage listed site is sbout 30 km from Lisbon easily reached by suburban train and well worth the visit. It is imperative that one arrives by public transport as yet again motor vehicles and lumbering gigantic tourist buses cause catastrophic gridlock and by walking everywhere one can easily beat the bus to any destination! However as for all Portuguese UNESCO sites it involves climbing. My iPhone motion sensor informs me I have climbed the equivalent of 137 storeys and at this point walked about 24km. 
There are three significant sites/places of interest: a Moorish castle, the oldest structure built around the 10 century by the Moors. It is reached by a long climb (obviously) through lush vegetation and through an outer wall.   
I needed to Goggle “moors”: The Moors were Muslim inhabitants of the Maghreb, the Iberian Peninsula, Sicily, and Malta during the Middle Ages. The Moors were initially of Berber and Arab descent. 


The second is the park and Palace of Pena. It was built on an adjacent mountain opposite the moorish castle , by King Ferdinand II in the 1830s. Predictably there was originally a monastery on the mount. It belonged to the Hieronymite monks! What on earth this means I have no idea! If nuns can be “decalced” and perambulate bare footed, then heaven only knows what deprivation an Hieronymite monk must have faced? The tourist pamphlet states that “the palace and its surrounding gardens are the finest examples of nineteenth century Portuguese Romanticism”. It is quite something to behold. The one drawback was that touring the Royal Apartments involved 45 minutes of crushing frotteurism which sent my anxiety levels through the roof. 

The third place of interest was the National Palace of Sintra! By this time I had had my fill of Byzantine architecture, ceramic tiles and exquisite glassware . There was another long queue buying tickets, (possible second dose of frotteurism) then the sky became leaden and after a terrifying thunderbolt, the rain pelted down to be followed after an apparent lull by a totally unexpected hailstorm! I rushed undercover and perchance it was a Portuguese bakery specialising in tarts! I made a Captain’s call and entered.


Here are a few more photos of Lisbon  street scenes 


This was the second destination on our small group tour in a Mercedes van, there were 8 of us plus driver /guide.

Batalha is a small  town amidst the hills of the Leiria area. It lept into the history books after a gigantic battle when the smaller Portuguese army against all odds defeated the Castillian  hordes (Spaniards)  at  the Battle of Aljubarrota in 1385.

What provoked the battle? Well the King of Portugal died without any heirs! However he had an illegitimate brother who in an Abbottesque moment declared himself King! But King Juan of Spain cried foul and declared war! Now the King of Spain was revered by the populous as somewhat of a suave, nimble and noble man who cut an awesome figure in the bull ring! Indeed his ballet like movements and pirouettes where he would, in a blur, turn 180 degrees on the head of a pin were legendary. 

But his elevation to almost god like status around the Taverna of Madrid was his signature movement in which as the bull’s horns were within millimetres of his groin, he execute a complete 360 degree turn which absolutely confused and disoriented the poor bull. It was folklore that when performed perfectly even the entire Spanish audience were confused! His nickname in spanish was “Turn-bull the Terrible”.

The spanish King before “Turn-bull the Terrible” was regarded as the great pretender (intentional lowercase). King António had as a prince been of great concern to his parents – he excelled at sports impaling several of his playmates at jousting before the age of 10, but was severely retarded in terms of language. In the 21st century we would describe this as autistic although in the 13th century court it was a given that he was simply plain dumb! His parents, despairing for the future of the monarchy, negotiated with the Friar of a Cistercian Order of Monks for a term of several years of monastic life. The Cistercian Monks take vows of absolute silence. The young prince should have been a “sandal-in” to succeed. 

Unfortunately within the year he was removed back to the Palace when he appeared to have no self control, pacing around the cloisters chanting in a monotonous repetitive way which made no sense to his elders much less his peers. 

But back to the impending battle! Not surprisingly the illegitimate Portuguese usurper was terrified and he fell to his knees praying to the Virgin Mary for deliverance. (The practice of falling on one’s knees and praying for salvation is known as “pyne-ing” in Portuguese). 
And the rest is history as they say!

As a thanksgiving for his miraculous victory the now legitimate Portuguese king decreed that on the site of this great battle a cathedral and monastery be built and named the monastery in her honour – Mosteiro de Santa Maria da Vitória. 
Rather unfortunately (there were problems with the building and construction unions even in the 12th century) it took more than 200 years to complete and whats more is still unfinished!

It is described as the pearl of Portuguese architecture and another UNESCO world heritage listed site.

The unfinished part!



I had forgotten about the apparent miracle of Fatima until today when I signed up for a tour involving four different and divergent attractions. 

3 adolescent children minding their herds saw a bright light on or about the 13th May 1917 and there appeared before them a vision of the Virgin Mary. Now one could safely assume if this were an isolated event that the 3 kids may have succumbed to some more plausible explanation – meteorological or whatever. But a little against this is the same apparition appeared several more times as foretold by the Virgin Mary on 13th day of the month on at least three more occasions, the last being in the presence of several thousand peasant Portuguese. Consequently the village of Fatima is up there with the Shroud of Turin, the Camino Trail and the holy tears of Lourdes. The bush or tree on which the vision perched was over the years literally chipped away by pilgrims so that it was completely axed so to speak splinter by splinter. A statue of the Virgin Mary sits we were told on its original stump. 

Two of the children sadly died whilst still young, the eldest girl survived, became a Nun and claimed to be visited on several occasions during her life by further apparitions of the Virgin Mary. She died in the 1990s. As a consequence of these events, various Popes shifted some assets and had constructed a cathedral and semicircular cloister and huge square that basically has the same look and proportion to the Vatican and its’ square! 
Next year 2017 is the centenary and the cathedral was hidden by scaffolding being renovated. The Pope will attend. Special prayers are being said in the hope that the Virgin will also make an appearance. 
As well as the typical baroque cathedral there is at the opposite end of the square an elegant and spectacular modern marble church and cloisters built after the visit of a latter day pontiff. 

Fatima has over a million pilgrims a year and the place seeths especially on the 13th of May. 


A well heeled colleague.

Do you know the meaning of “discalced”? I did not! Read on for an explanation.

A famous professional colleague who I shall call “Dr M ” to protect her identity, is a unique example of a mirror image. 

As I speak we are both overseas! What’s mirrored about that I hear you ask! Well I can guarantee that EVERY time I travel, so does Dr M, but when I am in the Southern Hemisphere she will be in the north or otherwise at diametrically opposite parts of the same hemisphere. 

When I am pushing a bike up an incline at 9%, she is pushing a leather Louis Vitton travel/shopping bag up a hill in London, Milan, Paris or New York. 

Whilst I am staying at a basic bed and breakfast drinking water sourced from the nearby moat of the medieval castle, Dr M is staying at the Manhattan Intercontinental drinking Moet.

Serious shopping for Dr M is spending all morning in the Prada boutique buying a pair of red shoes whereas serious shopping for me is rushing to the nearest Pharmacy to stock up on toothpaste and dental floss.

We both are lapsed in the religious sense. I was nominally Church of England (not Anglican in the 1950s) Dr M was Catholic. Although it is said as we all know “once a Catholic…..” So it was that booking into York House and learning that it was originally a convent, I immediately had visions of my mirrored colleague residing in these hallowed halls. But just as rapidly I realised from what I have described, it was pure fantasy. 

Her decadent habits would not get her into a Carmelite’s habit let alone past the first of the 47 steps to the nunnery door. 

Finally, and this is the crunch, York House was in 1759 the Convent of the Discalced Carmelites, the term “discalced” means without shoes or bare footed (with dispensation, sandals). 

Should Dr M see the error of her ways and become not only a Nun but also discalced, I, being a friend of Dorothy, would be more than happy to accept a donation of the red shoes.