Wild and Windy in Sintra
As a wise woman (Forest Gump’s mother) once said, life is like a box of chocolates, you never know what you’re gonna get. Some days it’s going to be all buttercream and truffles, other times you’re going to get Hershey's Kisses, which is one step up from licking the bottom of your shoe (I’m sorry Hershey, but it just isn’t chocolate). Anyway my point is this; the weather is like a mixed bag of sweeties/candy/lollies. Whatever you get when you step out the door, you just have to deal with it and have fun.
Lately we’ve been rained on, pelted with hail, snowed on, blown to buggery and frozen half to death. But even by our standards, this past week has been a wild ride weather wise. If you’re not based in Europe, you may not know that two mega storms hit the region. One called The Beast From The East (gotta love the British headline writers), and the other was called Storm Emma, which was something of a misnomer, the Portuguese weather service apparently has quite the sense of humour. When you hear the name Emma, you may think of the lovely Emma Thompson perhaps, or wonderful Emma Watson, or maybe your great Auntie Emma who bakes amazing cakes and wouldn’t hurt a fly. Yeah, not that Emma. This Emma was more like the Incredible Hulk’s punchy big sister the morning after a big night out, and she’s just been told there’s no more coffee.
So after it snowed, hailed and poured on us in the Douro Valley (first time in 18 years and all that) we headed to our next destination with the hope of better weather. Sintra is about 370kms south west of Douro so we were optimistic. And you know what they say about optimism. It tends to kick you in the ass.
Because it was such a long drive, I suggested we stop in Nazaré. The stretch of beaches along the so called “silver coast” are considered by some to be the best in Portugal, so I was thinking the we would take the WonderDog for a stroll on the sandy shores. Also Nazare is famous for it’s big wave breaks and it holds the record of the largest wave ever surfed. I’m quite scared of waves, but I thought if I got there and stared at them for a while, maybe it would help me not be quite so afraid. Turns out I was wrong on both counts.
We found the famous Praia do Norte where the surf competitions take place but could barely get out of the car the wind was so fierce. Mr T got out first to take some pictures, and given he could barely stay on his feet, I decided it didn’t need both of us out there. Then we drove down to the famous lighthouse, where I bravely took one for the team. I battled out of the car, went into the fort and up on the famous rooftop to snap some pictures and video. It was all I could do to hold on to my phone as the wind tried to whip it out of my hands. I don’t mind telling you I was bricking it. Not only that, but in getting these shots, I flashed everyone within a 100m radius. The wind got a hold of my top and flapped it around my ears the entire time I was filming. You’re welcome Nazare, that one’s on me.
The WonderDog did get some time on the beach, but between being terrified of her going in the ferocious ocean and getting dragged out to sea, and getting pebble-dashed by the sand that was whipping all around, it was a very short lived affair. She was less than impressed.
Storm Emma hadn’t finished with us yet though. The “best” was yet to come about an hour outside of Nazare as we approached a bridge over a valley. To the right of us was what looked like a wall of water, like a torrential rain curtain, and it was coming right for the bridge. We knew we had to make it across before the rain hit because it’s always windier and worse on a bridge. It was decided in no uncertain terms that Mr T was to put his bloody foot down and give it some welly. Which is how we found ourselves slap bang in the middle of a bridge right as Armageddon hit.
A few things happened in the melee. The car felt like it had been punched, it rocked and rolled in a very alarming manner. Mr T kept his nerve, kept us safe, did everything you’re supposed to do and drove like a champion. That said, I could hear his heart beating from my side of the car. His knuckles were white for the rest of the journey. I toggled between going overboard on the encouragement (“Brilliant, well done, EXCELLENT”) and the slightly less helpful (“HOLY SHIT, did you see that, was that lightning??”) And the WonderDog came flying like a bat out of hell from the back of the car to snuggle on my lap, she didn't like it one bit. Let’s all agree never to do that again.
We made it to Sintra in one piece and if there was ever a place to make you feel instantly relaxed, it’s here. About 18kms outside Lisbon, Sintra used to be a sleepy place until the various Kings and Queens of the day decided to make it their vacation spot, and it’s been popular ever since. And for good reason too, it’s absolutely stunning. If you’re a fan of fairy tales you’ll adore it, the place looks like the middle of a pop up book. It has castles, beautiful beaches, forest, fresh air and great seafood. Absolute heaven.
When we arrived, it was a delight to meet our Airbnb host Fernando and check into his lovely home. It’s not every day you get to stay in the house of a person who the whole street is named after - Professor Emilio de Paula Campos. The other person who lived here was Fernando’s uncle, Castro Rodriguez, a famed architect who lived most of his life in Africa and transformed parts of Angola. The house is a living museum to the two men with so many artifacts, books and curiosities, it’s truly a fascinating place to stay.
It’s also in one of the most picturesque villages in Sintra, Azenhas do Mar. You can’t help but fall in love with the place, it charmed us instantly despite the pouring rain and gusty winds. This is a village that’s picturesque in all kinds of weather. We headed straight to the beach, and wouldn’t you know it, the sun came out and gave us a dazzling display and a tremendous sunset. We made the most of it and just as well too, because we didn’t see it again for the rest of our stay.
We walked along the cliffs, we breathed the fresh air, we ate amazing seafood, drank great wine, watched the ocean roll and the waves crash. But most of all we cursed the fact that we’d only allowed for two days here. You need at least a week in Sintra I think, we'll just have to come back for more. Before we knew it, it was time to head back to Spain. We were rather hoping that we’d see the last of Storm Emma, but turns out we followed her less-than-charming rear end all the way to Seville. More of that to come soon.
