Note: This is part two of a four-part series about my 2016 vacation in Portugal. This part focuses on our time along the coast of southern Portugal, particularly in the Algarve. Links to the other parts of the series can be found in the text and at the end of this post.
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Traveling Back in Time
Imagine you are living in southern Portugal in the late 14th century, just a few decades before Portugal kicked off the European Age of Discovery. You are sitting on the very tip of a small spot of land, a cape that juts southwest into the Atlantic Ocean. It is the most southwesterly point of Europe, and everyone calls it the “end of the Earth.” You look out at the vast, powerful ocean, and you wonder.
Looking over your left shoulder, to the east, you know that along
the coast, men can sail safely to Gibraltar and into the Mediterranean Sea. But
that sea and the trade routes through it have long been controlled by the
Venetians, and there are Arab pirates as well. So it is not a safe route to the
riches of the Far East. But at least it is somewhat known to experienced
sailors, and fishermen ply the coastal waters toward the Kingdom of Sevilla
every day.
As you look directly south, you understand that a sailor would
eventually come to the coast of a place called Africa. But going straight south
in the small boats of the time would not be safe because the ocean is too big.
You would have to sail to Gibraltar, cross the strait, and then follow the
coast to the west.
But no one has safely done so for very far. The Islamic Moors, who
had only recently been booted out of Iberia in the Reconquista, still control
that north coast of Africa, and no one has sailed southward along that coast
and come back alive. No one knows how big this place called Africa really is or
what lies to the south. There are stories of great deserts, dangerous seas,
horrible beasts and monsters. Since no one has come back alive, the stories
must be true.
Looking straight ahead (southwest) and off to the right (west),
you understand that there is nothing except the ocean. No one knows what is out
there. The few brave men who have tried to venture far westward in their small
ships have never returned. There are many stories of great storms and terrible
sea monsters that can swallow up whole ships. Everyone says that the world ends
somewhere out there, but no one really knows.
It is the great mystery of that time: what is really out there?
A Mystery No More
That spot of land is Sagres Point (pronounced Sagresh), and on the afternoon of 15 September, as I looked out from the point and later from a nearby beach, I tried to imagine what someone from those days might have been thinking as he or she gazed out across the Atlantic. But that’s impossible. Today we have the benefit of 600 years of accumulated knowledge, and with the world being so much “smaller” now, it is hard to imagine how huge and imposing it must have seemed to someone in the late 1300s.
In our modern Internet era, we can just check out Google Earth,
but back then, they had only a few incomplete and woefully inaccurate charts
that were carefully kept by a few top navigators and the powerful elite of the
day. Most people had never seen a map of the known world and had no comprehension
even of what the known world looked like, much less the great unknown that lay
beyond. But knowledge was about to build.
In the early 1400s, Portuguese mariners discovered Madeira off the
coast of Africa and then the islands of the Azores. Soon, under the direction
of Prince Henry the Navigator, and with a new kind of ship called a caravel,
they were successfully navigating the western coast of Africa. Eventually they
made it all the way to Africa’s southern tip and discovered a new route across
the Indian Ocean to the riches of the Far East.
They also pushed west into the Atlantic, and there is evidence
that they had already reached the coast of Brazil even before Columbus made his
famous journey on Spain’s behalf in 1492. Portuguese fishermen were working the
Grand Banks and coast of North America long before the English and French began
arriving there. The discovery and “downsizing” of the world was underway.
The Power of the Atlantic
Even as I tried and failed to imagine what someone so long ago must have felt looking out at the ocean from Sagres Point, I was still in awe of the greatness of the ocean. I have known the North Atlantic since my childhood in Massachusetts, and I have seen it from the rocky cliffs of western Ireland. The Atlantic has always seemed cold, rough and powerful, ready to smash those who intrude upon its waters and take them down to the bottom.
(This is the western coast of Ireland)
By comparison, the Pacific has never seemed as untamed. I have
lived by Pacific shores in California, Japan, and on the island of Guam. I’ve also
spent time along the coast of Peru, and in most cases, that ocean has lived up
to its name, “Pacific,” when compared to the often angry Atlantic.
This is not to say that the Pacific can't throw a stormy fit from time to time. It surely can. And it's not as though the Atlantic doesn’t feature beautiful
beaches where one can safely swim and experience the awesomeness of the ocean.
It does. Cape Cod, the coasts of the Carolinas and Florida, and many other
places can attest to that. But no place I have seen offers such a combination
of perfect beaches visited by the raw power of the North Atlantic as the beaches of
southern Portugal.
14 September – The West Coast
When we left the Lisbon area on 14 September, we drove first to Sines (pronounced “Sinesh”) on the west coast, about halfway between Lisbon and the southern Algarve region. We made a brief visit to a beach called Praia de Sao Torpes, where we first dipped our feet into the Atlantic. Here, we also stopped for a fantastic seafood lunch at a place called Restaurante Kalux.
Our ultimate goal for the day was to get to our next guesthouse in
Portimao on the south coast that evening, but we were in no hurry. We meandered
southward keeping as close to the coast as we could. Along the way, we came to
another beautiful beach, Praia Samoqueira, where to our surprise we found a
small colony of ostriches.
That day’s plan also included finding a beach called Praia de
Odeceixe, which we had been told was one of the most spectacular in Portugal.
It took a bit of cajoling of our Google Maps navigator, but we finally found
the route that took us along a river that emptied right into the ocean at that beach.
We were not disappointed.
Before arriving at the beach, we had a stunning view of the
winding river with the ocean in the background, and as we approached the shore,
we could see where the fresh water of the river merged with the surging ocean.
The beach was framed on three sides by rugged rocky cliffs, broken only by the
river that had created a valley to the beach over thousands of years.
It was low tide, so the beach was a bit more open, and you could
see where the waterline would be when the tide was in. The tidal area had a bit
of a bulge that allowed the surf to send water around it. This was where it
merged with the river. At high tide, I suspect the river emptied into the ocean
more directly.
The beach faced directly to the open ocean, which created a
stronger surf with waves that crashed upon the several rock formations that
jutted up from the bottom just a short distance from the shore and pounded the
bottoms of the cliffs on either side of the beach. The surf was strong and
active upon the beach itself, which made it all the more enjoyable to walk in.
We spent the remainder of the late afternoon on the beach and in the surf.
Even though we had caught a dramatic sunset just the day before at
Cabo da Roca, we decided to stay and hope that the sun would set in an equally
beautiful fashion at Odeceixe. Again, we were not disappointed.
Once the sun had finally sunk below the horizon, we packed up our
things and set off for Portimao and our next guesthouse. The guesthouse there
was not one of our favorites, so I won’t spend much time discussing it. It was pretty
late, so we got ourselves organized and crashed knowing that we would have a
very active day starting the next morning.
Lagos and Sagres
The next day, 15 September, was all about the south coast. We had booked a morning kayak trip along the coast near the city of Lagos (pronounced Lagosh) to view the many caves and grottos that had been carved by the ocean over millennia and are only accessible by boat.
We joined a group of other tourists from many countries who had also booked for that morning and, two people to a boat, set off on our excursion. For more than three hours we paddled along the coast, going in and out of caves, some of which were also open at the top, allowing the light of day to illuminate the rock formations within. We also spent about 30 minutes on a small beach and did a bit of snorkeling.
As Lagos is on the south coast and has some small capes to buffet
the swells of the deep Atlantic, the water we traversed was relatively calm. It
was almost like being on the Mediterranean Sea instead of the Atlantic Ocean.
It was a bit of a challenge to paddle hard for three hours, but we really had
no problems, and we enjoyed it immensely.
After our morning in Lagos, the plan was to spend the rest of the
day at the beach. And we wanted to find a great beach. I was also determined to
see Sagres, the “end of the Earth.” The drive from Lagos to Sagres was short,
so we were there in no time.
We made our way as close as possible to the Forteleza de Sagres
(Fort of Sagres) on Sagres Point, a great old fortification that was built to
guard that strategic southwestern tip of Portugal. We walked around so that we
could see both sides of the point: the western side where the full power of the
Atlantic casts its waves upon rocks and beaches, and the eastern side that is
protected from the deep ocean and prevailing winds and, thus, much calmer. It
was here where I looked out and tried to imagine myself more than six centuries
back in time.
After looking around the point and taking a lot of pictures (of
course), we decided to go into Sagres for lunch – seafood, of course. We also
checked out a number of souvenir shops.
Then it was time for the beach. We decided to go for Praia do
Tonel on the western side where the surf was more robust. Tonel Beach is a
popular spot for surfers due to its large waves. Here, we enjoyed the water,
the sun, the views of cliffs and crashing surf, and the ability to just relax
and be – not think, just be. Oh… and take pictures, of course.
By the end of the day we were ready to head back to Portimao and
get a good rest before our next day’s drive to Spain. After two stunning
sunsets, we decided we didn’t need a third, but that evening in Portimao, we
were treated to another natural beauty: the awesome rise of an almost full moon
over the ocean.
The next day, we prepared to drive into Spain to visit Seville.
But first, we found a cozy little café by the sea for morning coffee. My travel
companion had found the place during her run earlier that morning. We got to
see that Portimao itself has beautiful beaches and a rugged coastline that is
worthy in itself. If I ever come back to the Algarve, I would definitely spent
more time in both Portimao and Lagos.
After that, we were off to Spain, which I’ll describe next time.
But it was not the last time that we enjoyed the ocean in Portugal. We loved
the oceanside beaches so much that after our time in Spain, we decided to head
straight back to the coast before returning to Lisbon for the last part of our
trip, our visit to Sao Miguel in the Azores. But I’ll write about our afternoon
at Porto Covo next time as well.
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