Monsaraz and Evora, Alentejo, Portugal

About 2.5 hours from Lisbon in south central Portugal is an area called the Alentejo. Rolling hills and shrub-dotted plains, native cork trees and cultivated olive groves, this region has been inhabited by people since prehistoric times. Then came the Romans, and the Visigoths, and the Moors, and the Christians in various succession, sometimes overlapping, sometimes warring, each culture bequeathing to the land and the people a little of itself. It’s a fantastic area to explore by bike (electric pedal assist for me, pure quadriceps and espresso-powered for Won).

As I pedaled along, periodically passing through small towns with cobblestone streets (the “Alentejo massage” as fellow cyclists say), I thought about the passage of time. Humans come and go, each with their dramas and wars and loves and opinions, and each passing into the mists of history with nary a memory on the land.

High up on the hill, visible for miles in all directions, is the fortification of Monsaraz. It used to be the home of thousands not too long ago; today it has a population of 35, with only one child in their teens. This was a theme in Portugal: glory and conquest and a lauded people once upon a time, now diminished though no less proud. From the crumbling stone walls, to the saudade (longing, sense of irreparable loss) of Fado music, it’s a land of what once was and might have been.

It was here in Monsaraz that we got news of the terrible violence in Gaza. We were traveling with several people of the Jewish faith, in a land cultivated by Muslim peoples, then conquered and re-conquered by Christians (80% of the Portuguese are Catholic). It was a sober moment of grief. Together we all shared coffee, raised thimbles of ginjinha (Portuguese liqueur) to each other’s health, and resolved to keep going. It’s too much to hold in one mind sometimes. Saudade.

Evora, a city of 50,000, is the historic capital of the Alentejo. With its medieval walls and chapel of bones, Roman aqueducts, and parading 3rd year University students in their Harry Potter-esque black robes, Evora was a delight to explore. Dinner was on our own in Evora, and we found ourselves shoulder to shoulder sitting at the bar with elderly Portuguese who didn’t feel like cooking at home, ordering pork and cod from a bartender who spoke no English.

Sao Lourenco do Barrocal is an agrarian estate owned by the same family for over 8 generations, and itself sits on an ancient historical farming village. It has been restored into a new life as a luxury hotel, and is highly regarded by locals, many of whom make a living in the ecosystem of tourism and farming that the estate brings to the community. It is a delightful place, and very recommended to anyone visiting the Alentejo. On a clear night and one of the most memorable moments of the trip, we could see the Milky Way galaxy and hundreds of constellations from the grounds of the estate. Through a telescope guided by a professional astrophotographer, we could just make out the red stripe on Jupiter, surrounded by 4 of her moons.

The Portuguese countryside and the night sky remind me that it’s just a moment that I occupy in the vast swaths of time and space. The perspective gives me a poignant sense of gratitude. Never again will there be a moment like this. And what do we each have, except this moment?

October 15, 2023