Tuesday 18 October 2022

Drinking the Algarve 2022

A Great Place to Drink Wine, So Why Ignore the Local Producers?

Who Cares About Algarve Wine?


Portugal
Even a cursory glance at Eating the Algarve 2022 shows that a glass of wine is the essential accompaniment to any Portuguese meal. Fish being our usual choice in most restaurants, we have inevitably absorbed a considerable quantity of ‘house white’ over the years.
There goes another bottle of house white

You cannot travel far in the Algarve without stumbling over a vineyard, but a far more intensive search is required to find a restaurant with an Algarve house wine; the locals, it seems, do not rate their own product. Portugal is awash with wine, with something to suit everybody’s taste and pocket, so who cares about the Algarve's wines?

The Comissão Vitivinícola Regional (CVR), That’s Who


Portuguese wine regions
Before Portugal joined the European Community (now EU) only a few wine regions had been designated and the system was rudimentary. Since joining in 1986 they have developed a system as all-embracing and intricate as those of France or Italy. Twenty-six regions have Denominação de Origem Controlada (DOC) status, several with multiple sub-regions and ‘special designations’, 4 regions have Indicação de Proveniência Regulamentada (IPR) status and should be upgraded to DOC eventually, and there are 11 Vinho Regional (VR) designations for more basic wines, or for winemakers who do not want to play by the strict DOC rules.

The adjacent map shows the DOC and IPR areas. The Algarve, ringed in red has four DOCs, from west to east Lagos (pronounced LAH-gush and definitely not the largest city of Nigeria), Portimão, Lagoa and Tavira, and these areas, have been designated almost as long as there has been a system. Why the Algarve received such special treatment is a mystery, but they have failed to take advantage of it. We have stayed in Carvoeiro, in the Lagoa municipality, every year for the last 17, so have drunk several Lagoa wines, enjoyed a couple of good Portimãos but never seen a bottle of DOC Lagos or Tavira.

Sir Cliff Richard, That’s Who Else

I am old enough to remember Cliff Richard as a lip-curling teenage rebel somewhat unconvincingly marketed as the British Elvis Presley. In the 2011 version of this post, I wrote that the same girls who screamed at him in 1960 have recently been queuing overnight for tickets for his new tour. The ‘girls’ may now be grandmothers, the teenage rebel has become Sir Cliff and an official national treasure, but little else seems to have changed. If such longevity seemed unlikely sixty years ago, it was an even more remote possibility that the same Cliff would play a major part in revitalizing Algarve winemaking, though that, too, came to pass. (I say re-vitalizing, but no one remembers when it was ever vitalized.)

Sir Cliff planted a vineyard on his estate near the village of Guia in 1997. He built the Adega do Cantor, a state-of-the-art winery, next door and suddenly premium wine was being made in the Algarve. In 2006 I described Cliff's Vida Nova as the best and most expensive Algarve wine I had ever drunk - though the bar was not set high in either case. In June 2019 Vida Nova Reserva Tinto 2015 was judged ‘Best Wine of the Algarve’ at the 12th Algarve Wines Competition (see Algarve Resident 13-Jun-2019).

Sir Cliff, the granny's heartthrob, hawks his wares on the streets of Lagos 2014

Cliff has now sold the Adega do Cantor to businessman Joaquim Pires who has great ambitions for the winery (Portugal News, 14-Apr-2022), but by creating a ‘boutique winery’ in this previously unloved corner of the wine world, Cliff opened the door for those who follow.

Some Boutique Wineries

By 2011 most supermarkets had a ‘local wine corner’ now they have a whole shelf or two. Prices vary widely, as does the quality. As a general rule you get what you pay for, but like all rules there are exceptions.

In previous years, from the boutique-y end of the market I have enjoyed the wines of Herdade de Pimenteis near Portimão, and Borges da Silva and Monte da Casteleja in Lagos. With an oenology degree from Montpellier University and a masters from Wagga Wagga in Australia, Guillaume Leroux (French father, hence the name) at Monte da Casteleja epitomises the new wave Algarve wine farmer. The peasant winemaker – indeed the Portuguese peasant – died out last century.

Monte de Casteleja's Maria

Ironically in a region famed for its fish, the red wines are more reliable. Other sun-drenched seaside areas, like Provence and Corsica, specialise in rosé, and maybe the Algarve could, too. In 2011 I enjoyed rosés from the Quinta dos Vales in Estômbar and João Clara in Alcantarilha (about whom more later). They are both crisp and bone-dry. Those as old as I am will remember Mateus Rosé from their early wine drinking days. The bottles made fine bases for lampshades, but the contents, slightly fizzy and slightly sweet, were regrettable. The modern rosés are different beasts.

No doubt there are many new wineries since 2011, and many older ones I missed, so absence from the short list above is not an implied criticism. All the producers above are still in business (and may or may not accept the description ‘boutique winery’).

2022, Trickledown Treats

Traditionally wine regions grow from the bottom. Wine is produced in bulk, some favoured vineyards or more careful winemakers acquire a reputation of quality, others attempt to follow their lead and a quality wine industry develops. The Algarve is trying to do this in reverse, balancing new wineries with an accent on quality on a rickety base of a modest quantity of modest quality wines. Will it work and will there be some trickledown, encouraging all the region’s winemakers to strive for higher quality?

This year I decided that all the wine we drink ‘at home’ (i.e. in our rented apartment) would be Algarve wines from the cheaper (€4-8) end of the market. Alentejo just to the north (region 20 on the map) produces a vast quantity of very drinkable wine in this price range, but what about the Algarve?

Reds

2018 Lagoa Estagiado Tinto

According to Google translate ‘Estagiado’ means ‘Intern’ - maybe something is lost in translation. This is from the cheaper end of the price spectrum, but nonetheless a DOC Lagoa wine (DOP on the label means the same) produced by the Lagoa Co-operative winery. It is made from a typical Portuguese blend of Castelão, Trincadeira and Tinta Negra Mole.

Lagoa Tinto

According to the back label this garnet red.. wine..,exhibits… aromas of red fruit and jam. The soft tannins give… a balanced and enjoyable structure and finishes with notes of ripe fruit. (their translation)

My verdict: A host of flavours wander round in this meagre soup of a wine, some enjoyable, some less so. A thin and mean tannic finish.

2018 Porches Tinto, Vinho Regional Algarve

Another wine from the local cooperative, this one named after a village in the Lagoa region.

A dark red with a pleasant warm nose and gentle tannins. A little more acidity would improve it, but there is a pleasing depth of flavour. An Aragonez, Trincadeira and Castelão blend and as Aragonez is Portuguese for Tempranillo, some quality would be expected. Easy drinking, full or warmth and sunshine with a hint of sweetness in the finish.

2018 Porches Tinto, VR Algarve

A Vinho Regional from the same producers as the DOC Lagoa, but a much better wine. In the Algarve DOC does not always mean very much.

Rosés

2021 Villa Alvor Rosé, VR Algarve

Avelada are a major Portuguese wine producer based in the far north. They opened Villa Alvor in 2019, nestled, according to their publicity, between the Ria de Alvor and the Serra de Monchique - more prosaically on the flatland north of Alvor between the N125 and the A22 motorway. It is, though, pleasantly surrounded by vines and orange trees.

Villa Alvor Rosé - it's a wine that causes silly grins

It is a thin-bodied fully dry rosé. More acidity would give it crispness, some fruit would make it smile, but as it is, it is not particularly pleasant. The back label, oddly, calls it a true Mediterranean rosé. The Portuguese version later mentions an influencia maritima, the English and French versions more honestly Atlantic influence of influence atlantique.

It shows growing faith in Algarve wines when the corporates start to arrive. The spelling of Villa (Portuguese has a single ‘l’) and the use the word ‘Mediterranean’ suggest they are looking for a style from elsewhere. They have a long way to go yet.

2021 Herdade Barranco do Vale, Negra Mole Rosé Reserva, VR Algarve

Herdade Barranco do Vale is a family business in São Bartolomeu de Messines, well away from the coast and tourist hordes. Their philosophy, they say, is to create their own style of wines, using the ‘Algarve’s Mediterranean and Atlantic influences’ and its traditional varieties. At €8 this was one of the more expensive Algarve wines I tried.

Herdade Barranco do Vales, Negra Mole Reserva Rosé

It is a pretty salmon colour. Well chilled and with crisp acidity its initial impact is delightful… then it just fades away to nothing. Negra Mole is certainly a traditional variety; grown all over Portugal and known as a large-cropping workhorse grape useful for blending. For €8 I don’t expect Shergar, but I was hoping for something better than Dobbin.

2021, Monte da Ria ‘Estate Blend’ Rosé, VR Algarve

Monte da Ria seems to be an Algarve off-shoot of the Douro based Dom Vicente company, though I have been unable to locate their Algarve base. This is the pale ‘Estate blend’ they also do a darker ‘Field blend’ rosé, both are priced at €6.99 on their website.

Monte da Ria, Algarve rosé

A pale salmon rosé. A lot of fruit on the nose by Algarve standard and a distinct strawberry aroma. Crisp and clean on the palate, and the flavour persists, unlike like the Barranco do Vale above. A well-made and enjoyable rosé.

Whites

Quinta da Francês, Odelouca Branco, VR Algarve

Quinta do Francês is a family estate, with 9 hectares of vineyard, in the Odelouca River Valley a little north west of Silves. Some of their wines sell for surprisingly large sums (Tanners of Shrewsbury sell their top red cuvée for almost £20) but not this example.

Odelouca Brance, VR Algarve

Brighter than many Portuguese whites with a nice shine and the faintest greenish tinge. A fresh nose with plenty of fruit, perhaps gooseberry, maybe greengage. It starts well on the palate, crisp and fruity, then it fades and disappears. Wine needs acidity, but this has a little too much for my taste.

Quinta de Penina, Foral de Portimão Branco, VR Algarve

Vinhos Portimão own the Quinta da Penina vineyards, north of Alvor and adjacent to those of Villa Alvor (see above). The first wines under the Foral de Portimão brand were made in a borrowed winery in 2005. Since 2021 the company has a new winery between Portimão and Lagoa, equidistant between their estate at Quinta da Penina and vineyards at Quinta Palmeirinha.

Foral de Portimão Branco

Made from Viognier, much grown in the Rhône Valley and the rarer Arinto de Bucelas, used mainly in Vinho Verde in the north. A pleasant nose, plenty of fruit at the front of the palate and enough body to hold it together to the end. The Arinto provides acidity and a squeeze of lemon. A well-made and well-structured wine.

And last, but by no means least,

João Clara Branco, VR Algarve

I have already said that I enjoyed João Clara rosé in 2011. This year (2022) we went for lunch on our final day (traditionally chicken piri-piri) at O Barco on the little square by the beach in Carvoeiro. This year, for the first time, their wine list was proudly headed by two Algarve wines, the cheaper of which turned out to be unavailable, so we went for the João Clara Branco. I paid €23 for an Algarve wine! Madness? Well perhaps...

João Clara Branco, O Barco, Carvoeiro

… but we enjoyed clean fruitiness, crisp acidity (so often baked out by the southern sun) and enough body to carry a hearty rather than elegant meal. We felt very happy with our choice.

Conclusion

These 8 wines are a mixed bag. None were actively unpleasant, though one verged on it. Three more were best forgotten, another three made pleasant drinking and one was outstanding. Most were inexpensive but… and this is a rather important but… at every price point there is a better wine available from neighbouring Alentejo. I think Algarve wines are improving, I will continue to check out one or two each year, but most of the wine we drink in Portugal will be, as they were in the past, from Alentejo.

Now, after all that wine what I need….

Well sometimes a beer is necessary

… is a beer.

Thursday 29 September 2022

Castro Verde (2): Castro Verde and Ourique

Roman Lamps, Windmills and an Almost Vanished Castle

Portugal
Castro V. Parish

28-Sept-2022

Castro Verde (1) ended with a lunchtime toastie after we had found the town’s two main churches tightly locked. Castro Verde (2) starts with a couple of rather more successful visits.

Southern Portugal showing locations of Castro Verde, Ourique and Faro (the capital of the Algarve)
Castro Verde and Ourique are approx 100 Km north of Faro

Roman Lamp Museum

We lingered over lunch then strolled south through the narrow streets beyond the Basilica of Nossa Senhora da Conceição….

Past the Basilica, Castro Verde

….until we reached the former Armazem de Produtos (warehouse) of the company of Senhor Prazeres, his brother and successors. A smaller sign by the door informed it is now the Museu da Lucerna, the Museum of Lamps.

The Lamp Museum, Castro Verde

A 1994 archaeological dig in the village of Santa Bárbara dos Padrões (we visited yesterday) unearthed, among other things, a collection of Roman era (1st-3rd centuries CE) oil lamps.

A collection of other artefacts from the dig, Museum of Lamps, Castro Verde

Many years ago, we visited a small Etruscan museum in the hills above Florence. Most of the good stuff had gone to the city or to Rome, but they had left enough interesting artefacts to justify a small local museum - and they had also left the oil lamps. A hundred or more were on display, all simply constructed and largely identical. I held out little hope for a museum majoring in lamps.

Some basic lamps, Museum of Lamps, Castro Verde

But I was wrong, there were some basic lamps but most on show were decorated with household gods, simple objects, scenes from everyday life….

Assorted decorated lamps, Castro Verde

…animals…

Wolf on a lamp, Castro Verde

…and characters and beasts from mythology. Among the best, a winged horse set amid other decorations.

Winged horse lamp, Castro Verde

The South End of Town

Continuing from the museum we soon reached the southern end of the small town. The north entrance had featured a roundabout on which sheep could safely graze, the southern end went more for snuffling pigs.

Pigs on a roundabout, Castro Verde

From the roundabout there was a pleasing view back to the Basilica, though it is a shame the church is not kept open.

Looking back to the Basilica, Castro Verde

The Windmill on the Largo de Feira

Beyond the roundabout is the Largo da Feira, a dusty open space used for fairs and markets, though mostly it serves as an overspill car park.

We had spotted the windmill as soon as we arrived, it is difficult to miss, but it had been closed. When we crossed the largo later in the afternoon on our way to the just-out-of-town supermarket beyond, we discovered it was now open.

The small pieces of pottery that can be seen attached to the ends of the spars and the connecting ropes are ocarinas, of a sort. The sales were tethered but there was a good breeze and they generated a continuous plaintive song, as if they wanted to be set free to turn.

Castro Verde windmill

No one knows quite how old the windmill is. It was included in a sketch of the square dated 1813, but is probably much older. It was closed in 1930 and was for a time used as a dwelling. In 2003 ownership passed to the local government and the windmill was fully restored. The door was open so we walked in and climbed the stairs. The internal mechanism was in full working order and ready to grind corn as soon as the sails were released.

Castro Verde windmill ready to grind corn

That happened while we were doing our shopping, and on our return the windmill was working and singing, just as it did a century ago.

Dinner

We dined at Planicie Gastronomia on Polvo à Lagareiro, octopus brushed with olive oil, and very good it was, too.

Polvo à Lagareiro, Castro Verde

For more about the pleasures of the table in Alentejo, see The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking.

We strolled back to our hotel beneath a pleasing crescent moon.

Walking back to our hotel under a crescent moon, Castro Verde

29-Sept-2022

Ourique

After breakfast we drove to Ourique, the main town of the adjacent municipality some 15 km to the west. Castro Verde is small but Ourique is smaller, though it boasts a castle and miradouro. It also shares its name with the legendary battle of 1139 which turned Count Afonso Henriques into King Afonso I, the first king of Portugal.

Unlike Castro Verde, which is flat, the northern end of Ourique sits on a hill rising from the surrounding plain. We left the IC1 at a sign to the castle and miradoura, following a small road that unsurprisingly wound its way upwards. We semi-intentionally drove round the top of the hill a couple of times attempting to orientate ourselves and find somewhere to park.

Miradouro

The Miradoura gives every impression of being built in 1915, and in 2000 was renamed the Miradoura Ramon Sobral in memory of a president of the local council in the 1970s and 80s.

The Miradoura Ramon Sobral, Ourique

It contains – or is surrounded by – a pleasant garden and has the sort of view that is mandatory for a miradouro.

The Plain of Ourique from the Miradouro

Afonso I and the Battle of Ourique

It also has a more than life size statue of King Afonso I looking appropriately warlike.

Lynne and Afonso I

Ourique Castle

The hilltop is the obvious site for a castle and there is alleged to be one linked to the exploits of Afonso I, but the earliest castle charter dates from 1290 and archaeology suggests that King Dinis (ruled 1279-1325) built over a Roman castro that had also been used by the Moors. Manuel I issued a new charter in 1510, but despite this documented history we could find no castle.

The castle was abandoned, probably in the 16th century, became a ruin and was ‘tidied up’ during the construction of the viewpoint. All that remains is one heavily restored wall.

All that remains of Ourique Castle

Igreja Matriz, Parish Church

The Parish Church of Santa Maria da Misericórdia, constructed on a shelf in the hillside below the castle is, in contrast, complete. It was built in the 18th century on the orders of King João V and inside there is, I read, much gilded baroque woodwork. The locals seem very keen on the application of dark blue paint to their churches, they are less keen to open them up.

Ourique Parish Church

We appeared to have the hilltop largely to ourselves. Most of the modern town sits on the gentler slope on the southern side of the hill. There we drove along a street with busy cafés and people going about their business. I feel I need to point this out, as our photographs yesterday and today show an almost complete absence of people (except us). This area is sparsely populated, but we did not visit a series of ghost towns, however it might look. The penultimate picture of this post will, I promise, prove we were not entirely alone.

Castro da Cola

Castro da Cola was next on our list of ‘things to visit in Ourique’, though we were not entirely sure what it was. Getting there involved driving a further 10km south on the IC1 before turning right onto a minor road. A few kilometres later we found a sign pointing up a well-maintained if tarmac-free track

After a 100m there was a track to our left with a ‘no entry’ sign. We carried on round the base of a hill to a T-junction with the Restaurante Castro da Cola one way and a farmyard and church the other, but no sign of the actual castro. The restaurant was closed, so we borrowed their car park while surveying the scene and wondering if Castro da Cola would prove as elusive as Ourique Castle.

Driving past the farmyard and the church – a smaller version of the Ourique parish church – we found the road looped round the base of the hill and then up across its eastern flank. There seemed to be something higher up, so we pulled off the road to take a look.

Igreja de Nossa Senora da Cola

Strolling upwards we found old walls and a sign board to help us make sense of them.

When and how this place became known as ‘Castro da Cola’ is not obvious, but we were standing in the ruins of a medieval fortified village formerly known as Marachique.

Castro da Cola

A garrison was accommodated at one end of the walled enclosure, while the dwellings of the villagers occupied the rest – and the more we explored the more we realised how extensive the settlement had been.

Castro dal Cola, garrison

Marachique was inhabited from the 10th to the 13th century, spanning the Islamic and Christian period, then it was apparently abandoned. Archaeologists have found vestiges of occupation from both Roman and pre-historic times so the site was occupied for many centuries, though to the modern eye it does not look an attractive site for a village.

Castro da Cola, dwellings

The Necrópole da Atalaia

Barely 2 km away as crow flies is the Necrópole da Atalaia. As necropolises go, this is not the most dramatic, but there is not much to see round here, and finding it promised a challenge.

The Plain of Ourique, like may plains, is not actually flat. There are no real hills (the small hill on which Ourique stands being an exception) and there are no deep valleys, but the scrub covered landscape is creased and wrinkled. It is also criss-crossed by an extensive network of well-maintained dirt roads.

My phone knew both the position of the necropolis and the lay-out of the dirt roads, so we bumped slowly along in our own personal dust cloud drawing ever closer to our quarry.

Eventually Doris (all sat navs are called ‘Doris’) suggested we turn up a smaller track that looked fine for a Land Rover, but unsuitable for a Renault Clio. I parked the Clio and we continued on foot.

I turned the Clio and parked beside the unsuitable track

We had only a few hundred metres to go, but the necropolis was not actually on the track, the sat nav positioning was imprecise and we already knew that it was signed only if you approach from the north. We came from the south, and after marching about the right distance and wandering around in the scrub for a while, we admitted defeat.

Lynne striding forth confidently to failure

It was no great disaster; I had already seen the pictures. The best available is on TripAdvisor, so if you want to see it, click here and prepare to be underwhelmed.

An Italian Dinner

We did little of interest in the afternoon. This area has a dry climate, the summer months being largely rain free, while in an average September they expect 24 mm (1 inch) of rain. Most of it fell that afternoon.

The evening was drier so we went in search of dinner. Apparently, we had struck the last week of the season and restaurants had been closing daily. Tonight, both our Plan A and B restaurants were shut up tight, but the Villa Itália was open and doing good business.

Along the Algarve’s holiday coast, restaurants of all styles abound, but finding an Italian restaurant (as distinct from the ubiquitous pizzerias) in rural Portugal felt odd. There was a time when Italy was poor, Italians emigrated and, in the UK, like the Hong Kong Chinese and Bangladeshis who followed them, many opened restaurants. But when Italy was poor, Portugal was poorer, this is not where they came.

The menu was Italian but the wine list was Portuguese and we ordered a bottle of Entradas, an Alentejano Vinho Regional with a Great Bustard on the label. We visited Entradas yesterday; the village produces wheat and olives, but we saw no grapes. The name is unprotected so the wine - good rusric stuff - could have been made almost anywhere in Alentejo.

Entradas wine, Villa Itália, Castro Verde (and a picture with other people in it!)

Lynne chose pizza, I went for gnocchi which was flavourful and comforting.

Gnocchi, Villa Itália, Castro Verde

30-Sept-2022

We headed south to the sun, sand and sangria of the Algarve.

Wednesday 28 September 2022

Castro Verde (1): Surrounding Villages

Rural Alentejo and the Site of a Great Battle (Maybe)

Faro to Castro Verde

27-Sept-2022


Portugal
Castro Verde
Municipality
Returning to our Covid-interrupted practice, we prefaced our Algarve holiday with a few days a little further north.

Faro to Castro Verde is 105km and takes just over an hour on modern roads. Much to the irritation of our sat nav, we decided to use the old N2 instead, though it did everything it could to divert us. Once a nationally important north-south route, it is 10km shorter, but its twists and turns almost double the journey time.

North from Faro to Castro Verde

We crossed the Algarve's coastal plain, a land of tourist development, figs and olives, regimented rows of orange trees and occasional vineyards. From São Bras the road starts to climb, a slow twisting drive through cork oaks and, higher up, eucalyptus. By Almodôvar we had reached Alentejo where the Campo Branco plain allowed much swifter progress.

As usual Lynne was sceptical of my ability to find the hotel, but even before passing the 'Welcome to Castro Verde' sign I had spotted the tower of the building across the street. I had seen Casa Dona Maria on Google Street View and it would stand out in any Portuguese small town. Typically streets look like this…

Castro Verde

…while Casa Dona Maria is this.

Casa Dona Maria, Castro Verde. Photographed from our hotel room balcony

A Neo-Gothic/Moorish/Manueline fantasy, it was built in the 1920s by a wealthy farmer called Álvaro Romano Colaço who may, some suggest, have had more money than taste.

It’s a Sandwich, Jim, but Not as we Know it

Finding a cafe for a late lunch we shared the largest cheese toastie known to humanity - we would happily have shared the non-sharing size.

It's a sandwich, Jim, but not as we know it, Castro Verde

By the time we had checked in to our hotel it was 3 o'clock, and as we had left home over 12 hours earlier it was nap time.

In the evening we visited the nearby Restaurant Alentejano. All the meals (otherthan toasties!) from this and other Alentejo posts are gathered in The Alentejo: Eating and Drinking, a companion post to Eating the Algarve

28-Sept-2022

Castro Verde, a Concelho, a Freguesia and a Town

Castro Verde, in south-central Portugal is one of the country's 308 Concelhos (municipalities) and one of the 14 that make up the District of Beja (we visited Beja in 2018) - often referred to by its old name of Baixa Alentejo.

The Concelho of Castro Verde and its position in Portugal (inset)

The Municipality of Castro Verde covers 500km² and is divided into 4 Freguesias (civil parishes) – the map above shows 5 but Casével was merged into Castro Verde parish in 2013. The name ‘Castro Verde’ can refer to either the whole municipality (pop 7,500), or the largest parish in the municipality (pop 4,000), or the largest town in that parish (pop c3,000). Confusing? Yes.

Ermida de São Pedro das Cabeça

Castro V. Parish

We decided to spend the morning seeing the sights outside the town, helpfully listed in a pamphlet in the hotel. The Ermida de São Pedro das Cabeça, is clearly considered the most important.

The Ermida, near the village of Geraldos, is 5km east of Castro Verde down a series of ever smaller roads. The final and smallest turns a bend, climbs a hill and there it is, a chapel of little architectural merit, standing alone on a windswept hill top. The door was locked and through the grimy window all we could see was cleaning equipment.

Lynne and the Ermida de São Pedro das Cabeças

Despite the bright blue sky, the sun had yet to warm the air and the strong breeze had a biting edge for which I was inappropriately dressed. To the west the Plain of Ourique, stretched past Castro Verde to the town of Ourique itself, and beyond.

Castro Verde across the Plain of Ourique

Eastwards it continues as far as they eye can see.

Eastwards across the Plain of Ourique

The Battle of Ourique

In 1139 Afonso (without an 'l') Henriques, Count of Portugal, was busy fighting King Alfonso (with an 'l') VII of Leon, to whom he was, theoretically, a vassal. The rulers of the petty kingdoms and counties of northern Iberia spent more time fighting each other than fighting the Moors who controlled the south of the peninsula.

Moorish incursions led him to disengage with Alfonso VII to safeguard his Southern boundaries. On the 25th of July, after God came to him in a vision and promised a great victory, he attacked and destroyed a much larger Moorish force led by five princes, all of whom were killed. This was the Battle of Ourique, after which Afonso Henriques was acclaimed King of Portugal – then just a modest area around Porto. He was crowned by the Archbishop of Braga in 1142 and recognised by Alfonso VII the next year. Ourique was the start of the Reconquista which would see the Moors driven from what is now Portugal by 1249. In Spain the Emirate of Grenada resisted until 1492.

In the late 16th century, the popular King Sebastião I (see Lagos for his story) visited this hillside and commanded the construction of ‘a very sumptuous building’ to commemorate the battle. He must have been disappointed, even by 16th century standards the Ermida is hardly ‘sumptuous’.

Other Battle Memorials

Behind the Ermida is a memorial pillar erected in 1940. Next-door in Spain, dictator Francisco Franco (ruled 1936-75) successfully used myths of the Reconquista to bolster his nationalist/fascist government. This would never quite work in Portugal but dictator Antonio de Oliveira Salazar (ruled 1936-68) was still keen to be seen as a legitimate successor of Afonso Henriques.

1940s Pillar Memorial to the Battle of Ourique

Behind that is another memorial erected in 1989, on the 850th anniversary of the Battle. Although behind the 1940 memorial, its brightness makes the dull pillar easy to ignore. Marcello Caetano, Salazar’s successor, was overthrown by a military coup on the 25th of April 1984, the Carnation Revolution which eventually led to Portugal becoming a liberal democracy. The newer memorial, colourful, original and with a joie de vivre that Salazar would never have tolerated, presents the new democratic government as a legitimate successor to Afonso Henriques.

1980s Memorial to the Battle of Ourique

But What is the Truth?

Some problems: across the whole vast plain no one has ever found evidence of a major battle – and Ourique is too far south for Afonso to have been dealing with a border incursion. He may have led a raiding party who were intercepted by a Moorish force, but that would have been skirmish, not a battle.

The chroniclers were unfamiliar with the area; there is a Vilã Cha de Ourique near Santarém which could be a possible location, but there is little corroboration in the Moorish chronicles.

The vision before the battle, the five dead princes - whose shields still adorn the Portuguese flag and are very clear on the 1940 memorial pillar above - and the victory against great numerical odds give the story an air of unreality. There must be a kernel of truth, Afonso Henriques did become the first king of an independent Portugal, but there has been some serious legend making.

São Marcos da Ataboeira

S Marcos, Parish

The pamphlet suggested we next head for São Marcos da Ataboeira, the ‘Parish Seat’ of Castro Verde’s easternmost Parish (or Freguesia). It promised only a church where the ' buttresses were in perfect harmony with the tower', but we went anyway.

The village is off the main road and straggles a remarkable distance for a place with a few hundred inhabitants. We eventually reached a small square with the church of São Marcos on one side. We got out of the car, observed that the church was locked and lined up a photo.

Square, São Marcos da Ataboeira

A middle-aged woman emerged from one of the nearby houses and marched towards us. I hoped she was coming with a key and an offer to unlock the church. 'Bom dia,' I said. She didn't answer, but stopped a couple of metres away and stared. Having run out of Portuguese small talk, I smiled and said it was a nice day. She continued to stare, and then she stared some more. I have not been stared at so hard or so long since we were in rural China. With my 'North European on holiday' look, I am obviously not a local, but surely I stood out much less than I would in a Chinese village.

After a while she turned and marched off. ‘Probably gone to fetch the men with the pitchforks,' Lynne mused.

We were not overly impressed by the harmony between the slabby buttresses and the stumpy tower - perhaps the writer had his tongue in his cheek - but we admired the bright blue paintwork. Then, as there was no sign of anyone with a key - or a pitchfork - we returned to the car and left.

Church of São Marcos, São Marcos da Ataboeira

São Marcos da Ataboeira to Entradas

The village of Entradas is in the northwest corner of its parish and a minor road from São Marcos takes a direct route. Right at the start a sign described the road as ‘submersíval’, not a difficult word to translate, but a surprise when all we could see was parched grassland.

In Grassland!

A little further on we followed a low embankment and passed another sign, identical to one on the road beside Portimão dock. There it accurately describes what could happen to those driving carelessly but here it looked a little melodramatic.

Our 10km journey crossed empty, rolling grassland, sometimes described as pseudo-steppe. About half way, it crossed a wide gully and the first sign, at least, began to make sense. It had not rained for months, but a sudden downpour would turn the gully into a stream and the road into a ford, if it was even passable.

Great Bustard, Photo Andrej Chudy*

Spain and Portugal are home to 60% of the world’s surviving great bustards, and the large ground-nesting birds live on such grasslands. The last British great bustard was shot in 1832, but they have recently been reintroduced on the grasslands of Salisbury plain.

We saw none during our drive, but the bird dominates the arms of São Marcos da Ataboeira while Entradas prefers a sheep, a turkey, poppies and wheat.

Entradas

Entradas Parish

Entradas is a larger village than São Marcos and was once strategically important, being on the main route from the river port of Mértola (see Mértola and Alcoutim, posted 2017) to the interior of the Alentejo Baixa. Later, Entradas was the entry (entrada) to the Campo Branco, the grazing grounds of which the Plain or Ourique is just a part. From the 14th to the 17th centuries drovers brought cattle and sheep, including the royal herds, here for seasonal grazing.

Entradas now sits on one side of the major road from Beja, but apart from access roads at each end of the village, it has turned its back on its former life-line. As the parish arms suggest the current economy is rural and based on sheep, cows, wheat, cork and olives.

Museum of Rural Life, Entradas

The village streets were never designed for cars. Several cobbled streets ran roughly parallel to the main road, with occasional cross streets, but this was not a grid plan; there were kinks and variations in width in the ‘parallel’ streets, one of which came to a dead end. We were aiming for the Museum of Rural Life, and passed a sign at the entrance of the village. We followed the arrow and, as there were no further signs, kept as straight as possible. We were soon at the other end of the village, where a ‘Museum’ sign pointed back the way we had come.

Turning round, we found our way to square which may have been the village centre…

Village square, Entradas

…and just beyond it, the museum.

Museo da Ruralidade, Entradas

It turned out to be a very good museum of its type, and free, to boot. Many of the exhibits have photos showing them in use. A wooden plough with a medieval look….

Wooden plough, Entradas Museum

…was in use when the photograph below was taken.

Wooden plough, Entradas Museum
The text concerns the change from wood to metal in the early 20th century

There was a horse-drawn sit-upon-harrow that would have provided the bumpiest of rides across the arid, hard-packed local soil.

Sit-upon harrow, Entradas Museum

Pottery was on display beneath a picture of the same pottery being sold.

Pottery, Entradas Museum

A reconstruction of a shelter…

Shelter, Entradas Museum

…was adjacent to a photograph of a similar shelter in use. The photo is dated 1959. I know I am old, but I was amazed this photo was taken in western Europe in my lifetime. I made a joke about pitchforks earlier, but this is a modern museum with a modern lay-out and technology; rural Portugal is very much part of the 21st century. The changes we have seen since our first visit 40 years ago are immense, in northern Portugal we had seen people collecting water from the village pump, in the Algarve the ladies of Vilarinhos (between Loulé and São Brás) still did their laundry in the communal wash house, but even so the Portugal of 1959 was barely recognisable in 1982, which in its turn is so unlike today. The whole world has changed, but Portugal has changed faster than most.

A shelter in use, Entradas Museum

There was also a threshing machine as every rural museum needs a threshing machine.

Threshing machine, Entradas Museum

Back to Castro Verde

We returned to town, passed the roundabout where sheep may safely graze, parked near our hotel and walked to the northern end of Rua Dom Afonso Henriques. It was not very far; Castro Verde is a small town.

Sheepy roundabout, Castro Verde

The town’s two most important churches sit beside or above this road, the Church of Nossa Senhora dos Remédios….

Nossa Senhora dos Remédios

….and further down, the Royal Basilica of Nossa Senhora da Conceição.

Basilica of Nossa Senhora da Conceiçã

Both were closed, but the garden by the Basilica had one of the more enigmatic memorials to the Battle of Ourique,

Battle of Ourique Memorial, Castro Verde Basikica

I also liked this house near the basilica.

House near the Basilica, Castro Verde

It was now lunchtime and as this post has now gone on long enough, I shall close it here, conveniently leaving enough material for the next post. As I started with a toastie, I will finish with a toastie; different café, different filling, and not sharing size, though it was sufficient for the two of us.

Toastie

An Afterthought

There are 25 photographs in this post. Apart from a couple of indistinct figures in the distance, there is no living human being in these photos other than Lynne and myself. This was not intentional, but it is a bit odd.