Breakfast was fortifying and then we set off for Sintra, using the bus that stops at the villa gate. Everything went to plan and we were dropped off at the gate of the Pena Palace. It was like a Moomba crowd, and not even high tourist season. Apparently in high season they get 50,000 visitors per day. We had a timed entry and were in the line a half an hour earlier. Johnny struck up a conversation with a nice Canadian couple who wanted to photograph his map of the palace. They had a daughter who took a gap year in Oz, and snagged a surfer in Byron Bay. I spent that time flat on my backside and preserving my energy for the palace climb. We were checked at the gate, at the steps, at the top of the steps and again into the palace.
The Pena Palace was pretty extraordinary. It was only finished in 1854 (not much before our house in Melbourne was built. It crowned the mountain top and looked down over Sintra town. It began its life as a chapel and then a monastery, It was damaged by the great earthquake of the 1700s and then the king just marched in and told the monks he very much liked their incredible site and that he was taking it over to build a holiday house. It was never meant as a fortified building and so it was richly decorated and light filled. We moved from room to room basically in awe of the fabulous carving, paintwork and furniture. The rooms were quite small compared to the other palaces we'd seen but that was in keeping with its informal role as a place of rest and recreation. There was a wall walk and Johnny did some of it, but after a short distance I turned back. I was happy to take in the view from a wide, safe terrace. Huge forests surrounded the palace and through the breaks in the trees we could just catch sight of the surrounding scattering of villages. The gardens at the palace were huge and planted as a natural forest rather than a garden. We could have spent many hours walking the garden tracks but didn't have the time for that on this visit. As we left the palace and made our way back down to the road and the bus stop, we could see that the tourist throng was unabated,
There will be lots of photos of me siting down in various places, and even one of me trying to take a nap on one of the stone ramparts. I was so tired, but gratefully that didn't stop Johnny continuing without me as I downed tools and took a breath.
Leaving the palace, we went down into the old town by bus and bought lunch. This time it was some tasty empanadas and gratefully Johnny found a shady spot with stone seats, overlooking the valley. Sintra was busy with tourists, but it was still possible to get around, and there was lots to see. I felt ashamed of myself for feeling tired. There were parents who were doing all the climbs, at speed whilst holding toddlers!
I would have liked to see the Moorish Palace but it involved a very steep climb and so we thought we might leave it for another visit possibly. Enticingly, when we returned to Quinta Velha, we could see it from the terrace of our accommodation.
From here we walked through the gardens of the national palace. and then took a winding route through the old town up to a road where we could call an Uber for a pick up. Curiously, an Uber was cheaper and faster than a bus. I went straight to bed for a bit, to ward off a gathering headache, but Johnny powered on, checking tomorrow's route and batting away emails before heading for the swimming pool. no I couldn't mis out! I grabbed my towel and joined Johnny in the pool, and it felt fantastic. It was sunny and bright. The pool deck was the perfect place to be.
Dinner was again on the terrace. We began with home made dips and bread and as we demolished these, the huge, lovely dog Leica circled hungrily. The owner of the house came out to take her away, thinking she was bothering us and then stopped for a chat. The entree was a delicious zucchini and leek soup with truffle oil. Then, Armie had cooked for us African chicken, toning down the hot spices a little, to suit our palate. Of course we had dessert and by the end of the meal, the sun was already sinking into the hills. Armie brought us some wraps and we walked the short distance to the raised area around the firepit to see that last of the sunset. The sky was speared by the unrelenting contrails and the moon's silvery reflection was caught in the pool's rippled surface. Blackbirds, Great Tits and European Greenfinches sounded their last cries of the day.
