A Primordial day at "The Green Cauldron"

The only thing not green I can see are the blue balls of Hortensia dotting the hillsides. Have we splashed down in the Land of Oz. On the other hand, judging by the enormous Erica "heather", the giant oaks, the Spanish moss dripping from the branches, we may have arrived in a kind of Jurassic Park. Tyronnosaurus Rex would be dwarfed in these crater-like caverns. tipping my I tip my head backwards to get a glimpse of the pointy tops of green volcanic mountains, look out over the bluish faraway valleys below; a hobbit wouldn't have been out of place either. We'll have to tell our sailboat neighbors, "Galadriel" and "Lady of Lorien", about this place.

From the town of Santana ,with the triangular thatched roofed houses, we take the road to Quemadas and the National Park House. This is a two-story thatched dwelling, tiny under the huge leafy trees. In the duck-pond there are thatched duck-houses, even more tiny.
We follow the trail signs to Levada do Caldeiro Verde, to the green cauldron. The walk starts under enormous oaks and beeches, hanging Spanish moss. The mountainside, ever steeper, is coverd with Hortensia, or Hydrangea, in full bloom. Its blue puff-ball flowers color the hills purple-blue Laurel and pine and Erica Heather-trees take over as the mountainside becomes more and more vertical. The levada-waterways snakes around the perimeter, halfway between the deep valley and the peak, high in the clouds.

There is the occational guard-rail wire, occationally functioning.

There are a couple slippery spots of red lava-mud, under waterfalls, and four tunnels. Bring flashlights! We arrive at The Green Cauldron, an enormous cavernous mountainside. The waterfall, a silver pencil against the black lava. Hortensias, blue at the base, a tiny circle of blue sky visible way, way up at the top.
The stones on the cliffs are furry with thick moss, deep under the leafy mountainsides. All sounds are absorbed. Not a bird. Just a few meters distance from the waterfall, silence.
Later, out around the undulating contours of the vertical mountainsides, we send endless echos across the abysses.
The trail to Caldeiro Inferno is further along the same track. We walk into its waterfall, another spectacular spot. Then climb the stone stairway 80m up to the top of this waterfall, and another levada. The first tunnel of this trail starts there. But we have to return because of the increasing fog and the diminishing daylight. Next time...

Back on the expressway, bright lights, long tunnels and speeding traffic. We head back to "Babette". Back to the dark marina on the wild and windy Sao Lourença peninsula.

Levada walks and waterfalls

Water for wine-grapes and banana-palms, for everything in the sunny south, is guided down the slopes from the wet mountains in the North in open canals, levadas. They are about 60cm wide, in low stone walls. Along them are walking trails, often also about 60cm wide. Walking along a levada is basically level, but this almost horizontal route is often encircling an almost vertical volcanic mountainside!

The hike starts at Rabaçal. To get there we drive up towards Encumeada, up in a "Swiss" landscape of jagged mountain tops looking like a bad set of teeth. Milky clouds pour over and through the gaps, but dissipate in the heat of the green valleys below.

From Encumeada we drive over the large empty plateau, Paul da Serra. Cows grazing in what looks like might feed a goat. From a parking area filled with hikers' rental cars we walk down and down a long asphalt road to Rabaçal. It's possible to get a lift in a van, at a price. I'm sure it's worth it, for the return up! The view from the road is great: lush green valleys, with laurel and pine and Erica heather trees. Erica heather, at least in Norway and Scotland, is a low, creeping plant. Here in the more primeval Madeira, it´s a tree!

From Rabaçal we follow the signs to Levada do Risco, a short, easy walk, and with a 100m waterfall at the end. A great height, though not much water now, at the end of the dry season. So, back again to follow the Signs to Levada das 25 Fontes. Twenty-five waterfalls! First, to get to the other levada, we descend hundreds of lava-stone steps. Trying not to think about the ascent later! The wide path narrows to levada width, about 60cm. We have a wobbly wire, at times, as comfort, in case one should glance through the laurel and Erica trees, at the steepening mountainside. Again there are dramatic and cavernous settings for waterfalls at the end of the levada.It's the same tour back, except all the knee-shaking downhills are huffing and puffing uphills.

From the plateau, Paul da Serra, we drive down a lavastone cobbled road, more or less vertical, to Calheta, in second gear and pumping brakes. Staight down to the sea. The marina in the pleasant village of Calheta has a little sandy beach and a swell swaying the sailboats at the pontoons. Swedish "Christina" and "Eos", English "Lady of Lorien" and "Tamarisk" are pleased with the expensive marina.

The kids love the little beach!

Bird-of-Paradise flowers and swaying over an abyss

It's a short, half-hour drive to Funchal on Madieras fabulous new highways. They're about half tunnel or bridge, creating the illusion of horizontal landscape. The old roads follow the profiles of the steep volcanic hills. Either up, up and up, often in first gear, or down, down and down, swooshing down the lava cobbled stones in second gear. But the views are stupendous!!

We pass the airport on the way to Funchal. That is, we pass under the runway. Since no horizontal areas large enough for a modern jet exist on this volcanic mountain peak they've constructed a runway, on huge concrete pillars, out over the sea. Aiming well, the jets touch "ground" a bit out to sea. So if you like landing on a hangar-ship, you'll love landing in Madeira!

Approaching Funchal we drive up the near-vertical slopes to The Botanical Gardens. What a wonderful place to wander about in, no matter what your level of botanical intelligence. Every plant has a sign on it if you want to introduce yourself. There are huge shady, leafy trees and conifers at the top of the gardens with a great view of the red-tiled city streching up the many green hillsides and of the harbour, the sea as blue as the sky. The greenery is splashed with bright flowers. There are manicured bushes, plam and cactii gardens with so many variasions you'ld think someone made them up! The fabulous "Bird of Paradise" flower, shouting out its bright red-orange,and blue-purple parrot colors.
Speaking of which the aviary with all sorts of parrots and cockatoos in cages is right below. Ending up down here with the birds we had a stiff climb right back up to the top of the gardens, where the cabel-car gondola leaves from.

When the door closes and you suddenly find yourself swaying above an abyss, sliding slooowly along a thin wire, among misty clouds, soaring hawks.
And it's too late to change your mind.
Down below intelligent hikers are walking, looking like tiny ants, their feet solidly planted on the lavada paths, sweating their way up to Monte where I hope to be arriving shortly.

Well grounded again, at Monte, we wander over to the double-towered 15th century church. Down below it a lot of men in white shirts and slacks, straw hats with black bands, are lounging about in the shade. At the bar their hats are jammed into the window bars. It's siesta.
Outside in the sun the snaking line of tourists grow. Then, up the hill a truck full of wicker-basket chairs-on-rails arrive. The straw-hat men line them up on the road, put a middle-aged couple in each chair, and off they caroon with two men steering the chair with ropes, running, riding on the rail, steeply down the slopes, avoiding the aproaching traffic. Scary.
We choose a bite to eat at the outdoor café instead. With great views of the gardens and city below.

Down the hills, at the Funchal harbour, we see how the rafted visiting sailboats are faring. Norwegian boats, "Bonanza", "Agape", and both "Blue Marlin"s are pleased with their stay at the marina. Much cheaper than Quinta do Lorde or Calheta in the west, it has good showers and they have good boat neighbors. And they can put up with the 4 or 5 boats lashed together. Alternatively you can anchor out, but you may be resting on a pile of chain, the hard sand bottom is difficult to bite through. And, if you are over 12 tons, it may be twice as expensive!!

Wash-day in Windy Sao Lourenço

The Quinta do Lorde marina faces into a huge, dark, red volcanic cliff. The pier wall is opposite, but it's still not enough to keep out the stiff northeast winds from the Atlantic. There's a spectacular walk along the windy cliffs of Sao Lourenço. But not today.
We wash the sand and salt of Porto Santo out of "Babette" and take the clothes-wash on the Marina van trip-to-town, a 15 minutes drive, to Machico. These shopping trips are free, that is included in the rather stiff Marina price. Here even water costs! And that's about the only thing for sale here, in the middle of nowhere. There are no food stores, or any stores, near the Marina. The english couple in "Lady of Lorien" are also along on this town trip, and we do Machico in the alloted hour. The 15th century church is very rebuilt and restored, in the shady town square. The black pebble beach has a nice palm-tree lined boardwalk.

In the evening the Swedisn sailboats"Christina" and "Eos"arrive, adding cheerfull sounds to counter the mornfull wind. Also comforting is the Bacalao dinner in the lantern-lit hold and, later, a glass Madiera with "Tamarisk" onboard.

An easy sail to Madeira

A stiff breeze, but a calm sea, winds astern. We set out at 8am with the Brazilian ketch, "Rapunzal" an hour ahead. We're double-reefed after a night with harbor gusts up to 28 knots, quite a good blow.
We have an easy sail over, but "Babette" is rocking like a church bell. The rolling gets irritating after a while. Still "Lille Per" steers well, slighly off the wind. A shorts-and-t-shirt" sail, with a strong wind from behind, perfect! We close in on the much bigger "Rapunzel"which is sailing with only a foresail. No one seems to be in much of a hurry; it's a nice day to be out to sea!

We're headed for the Eastern spur of Madeira, Sao Lourenço. That's a scraggely chain of windswept volcanic rock. Part still peninsula, barely hanging together with two islands at the point. On top of the outermost rock is a lighthouse, high on this steep, unapproachable little island.
A motor launch races out to invite us to the building-set marina, Quinta do Lorde. Part modern pontoon marina, part ongoing construction site. The facilities are what are missing. A metal container contains the showers and a "squat-toilet". There's hot water; the toilet is clean, because nobody is using it. The Marina is supposed to be ready in November... or December. The rest of the whole huge planned holiday resort they plan to open in 2008. We see very ambitious architect prospects in the marina offices. There are already some whitewashed, red-tiled buildings with a round tower, almost finished, down on the pier. The Marina is priced are as if everything was already functioning.

We are berthed beside English "Tamarisk" and Norwegian"Sedna", both leaving tomorrow, but both with lots of tips about what to do, where to go, here at Madeira. We especially enjoyed seeing "Sedna"s photos and film of their Pico to Pico hikes and bullfighting in Portugal. The bull is not killed in the arena.

And the matador there was a woman.

Cheap check-out of "Paradise Island"

Check out time. There are three stops: the immigration, the harbour authorities and the marina. No problems. The bill: €0. Nothing! Boats under 10 tons anchored in the harbour are free.

Tomorrow we follow after Norwegian "Bonanza", "Agape" and "Blue Marlin" to Madeira.

"Babette" was here!

Armed with little cans of paint, brushes, straight edges and string to measure and draw concentric circles we do our second Pier Painting showing that "Babette" was here in Porto Santo! The wall is full of those who have gone before us, so we have to find an area of non-recognizable spots of peeling paint to claim. Hot work in the blazing sun, rewarded with a swim in the sea.

A dinghy visit from "Christina", newly arrived, brings news from other sailor friends still in Spain and Portugal. Great to see our ever cheerful and enthusiastic "Christina" sailors again!
The "Festival Colombo" closes today. It's been an impressive event in a tiny town, pop.5000. Very professional, catering to a family crowd, completely devoid of pop groups and loud drunks.

Lots of culture. So why are all these people crowding the arenas, enjoying themselves?

Sand sculpture shows Vikings came first!!

Breathe in; now breathe out and stretch your hands right out to the sea. Breathe in; now breathe out and feel your body heavy on the sand, your head like a cannon ball... Last day of Pilates, yoga-on-the-beach. Pennie and "Tamarisk" will be sailing to Madeira now. We'll be following shortly.

The "Bonanza" boys, Arild from Eiken in particular, have entered the sand-sculptur contest today. We rush down to cheer them on. Arild's made a world map, with Santa Maria lying in the middle of the ocean, the Vikings just touching land in the New World, and two nasty sea monsters chomping away at the end of the world, just beyond. Fabulous!! Jon from "Galadriell" also has a hemisphere of sand with a Santa Maria firmly planted on an expanse of empty ocean. They are the only adult entries in a sea of kiddies building sand castles, and they duly recieve first and second "adult prize" from Chris. Columbus himself. The sailing kids were also a big contingent of the mini-contestants. The "Tamarisk" and "Sarah Grace" kids get prizes,too. A very regal prosession from the town square snakes down to the beach, drummers sounding its approach. Columbus and his court, all in renaissance attire, congratulate all the kiddies, and our brave Viking entries.

In the evening there's another concert, starting at 11pm. This time it's Arabian music, a lute, a flute, a drummer and a very fluid belly dancer.

Santa Maria arrives!

At 8am there she is , already tied up to the pier, Chris. Columbus' "Santa Maria"! Well, a replica. In fact she barely made it into harbor. Despite being invited here for the festival she was apparently first denied entrance because she didn't have all the appropriate documents they demand here!!

But at 8:30pm in the evening, she comes sailing over from the Marina to the pier in Vila Baleira for Chris. Columbus' landing on the beach. Torches in the sand mark a path for Columbus and his men to go up. Renessainse jugglers, dancers and musicians entertain while "Sta. Maria" majestically sails towards us, up the coast.
A Renaissanse-costumed court walks in prossesion down to the beach to recieve the sailors who are rowed ashore in small fishing boats. By then "Sta. Maria" fades away in the torch-smoke and dark. Colored lights and banners are strung up between the palms, fire-breathing jugglers light the path as the prosession slowly winds its way up to Columbus' house at the town square. Entertainment at the two outdoor stages follows. An early music choir, a group with wooden flutes, lutes and horns and a modern dance troupe. Three generations of Porto Santese, from babies in strollers to their grandparents, and a whole spectrum of tourists sit on the stone terraces of the lower amphitheater til well over midnight.

In the light of the waning moon "Babette´s" crew take their 20 minute strand-side stroll back to the harbor.

A hike up Pica de Ana Ferreira

We cheated a bit and took a taxi out to the golf course. That's the huge green area on this arid volcanic island. From there on it's up and up, first on switchback carriage roads, then on narrower paths through the dry, dusty cactus-covered volcanic rock. Steeper still, there's a hand over hand rock-slide at the top. Before arriving at the little clearing at the top. The view is 360 degree panoramic from the very top. We sign the "logg" and Ørnulf goes the last couple meters to the cairn. I decline, carefully picking my way back down the tumbly rocks. Rather the rocking boat! There were some spectacular crystal-formed rock formations stacked into an unfolding fan, about 20 meters high. Our way back circles the edge of the golf course along a riding path. We pass two soccer fields and three new tennis courts. So there are actually quite a lot of more sensible sports to partake in. Instead of mountain climbing.

In the evening we decided to try out a good, dry Madeira wine, along with a little orange cake, in the good company of Swedish "Blue Marlin". A nice evening on the lantern-lit deck as the moon rises over the sea.

New photos uploaded!

There are now some (~200) new photos on the net of Babette's voyage - try the slideshow feature to see them all.
Some of the older posts also have photos attached to them.

Chris Columbus´ house

Christopher Columbus' house is a museum here in Vila Baleira, Porto Santo. We enjoy its light, airy, atmosphere, its few precious historical items.

Columbus' connection to the island is his marriage, in 1479, to Filipa Moniz, the daughter of the first govenor of the island. Outside the museum is a pleasant patio with the Dragon Tree represented, a multi-armed palm which provided a popular dye for textiles, before the tree was almost eradicated.

A day at the beach

The island is lined in golden sand and turquise waters. So today we spend a couple hours splashing in the mini-surf. Otherwise we just jump off the anchored boat. Ørnulf thinks that the less sand invading "Babette" the better. He is basically anti-beach.

In the evening the "Bonanza" boys invite all the Scandinavians down to the pier wall for a barbeque. We pack white fish in olive oil, sliced onions, leek, tomatoes and lemon, s&p,fish-herbs, all into foil and dinghy over to the pier. Another Norwegian boat, from Kongsberg, "Galadriell" is there, too. They include a 6 year old girl and an 8 year old boy. As it grows dark the 8 year old finds his head-lamp and a good boulder to sit on and enjoy his "Donald Duck" comics. "Senda"from Oslo in Norway, "Najaden" from Denmark, and Swedish"Blue Marlin", we're all gathered around the glowing grill, in the moonshine .

It's pitch dark now, but we can hear the soft surf as we eat our sandy fish and rolls.

"Bonanza" boys arrive

A shout and a wave bring the receding Norwegian "Blue Marlin" back. We have to send a mysterious bag with a just finished home-made something, two presents for two little girls soon to be six years old. They and "Agape" are Madeira bound; we hope to meet up again soon.

But soon the harbor is filled with southern Norwegians again. "Bonanza" arrives with a foresome of 20-somethingish boys from Arendal, Stavanger and Eiken. That's a good stretch of South-coast Norway. We have the priviledge of welcoming them to North Africa, and sharing an anchor dram.

Someone comes, and others go

We start the day with our yoga on the beach. The Swedish "Blue Marlin" and "Regine" have arrived; tomorrow the Norwegian "Blue Marlin" and "Agape" leave. We have a farewell rice-pudding meal with them. And hope our paths will cross again soon.

That´s the way of this vagabond life, the comings and goings, as liquid as the seas we sail on.

Yoga on the beach

Pennie from "Tamarisk" is a trained "Pilates" yoga instructor and has gathered a bunch of us stiff and achy sailors for a morning stretch on the beach, 9am. We breath, balance, stretch, and breath some more.

In the afternoon we take the two-hour bus-tour around the island, 7 €uros. It´s an open-top bus so bring sun-screen. Bring an empty bottle, too, so you can bring back mineral water from the Fonte de Areia, "Sand Fountain". There are four ten-minute photo-op stops. It's a rough volcanic island, with lower layers of softer sandstone. Great views from the top.

We row ashore, then walk into town to hear a jazz consert in town in the evening, on the lower outdoor stage. Starting at about 10pm. There's a fair crowd, families, tourists and teens. The musicians are very professional, improvising on standards with their drums, clarinett, saxophone, trumpet and tuba til about 12:30.

Under the black palms and full moon.

Porto Santo, a Portugese paradise

Wide awake at 8am with a Portugese sailboat alarmingly nearby, we re-anchor. This time further from the ferry's path at the entrance, now next to Norwegian "Blue Marlin" and "Agape". Great to see old friends again!

So, off to the three different offices to check in. The same forms, questions, in triplicate. Here there has been some disagreements about payment. We, who anchor on "communal ground" and who are under 10 tons, don't pay. And cannot use the marina facilities, like the showers. These aren't totally satisfactory, apparently. So, we put the little steps out at the stern and swim in the clean, blue, 25 degree waters.

It's a 15 min. walk into lovely Vila Baleira, the well-kept, white-washed, red-tiled town of 5000 souls. Vila Baleira has a pretty town center with pebbled and cobbled, volcanic, stones streets and plazas, palm trees, flowering trees, fountains. The town square is lined by the municipal building, a 15th cent. church, a "Cultural activities Center", and one of its two outdoor stages. There are the usual beach and clothing shops and a big supermarket, Pingo.
Then there are the beaches. They line the whole leeward side of this 11km by 6km island. You have plenty of elbow-room, right in the middel of town, or by the marina. Or you could walk a bit and have your own little tropic paradise. I could definitly stay here awhile.

Back at the boat , time for dinner. Today it´s a Paella:

"PAILLA ÁLA BABETTE"
Make Spanish rice: First warm up a deep skillet, with about 3tbs. oil. Add rice, stir. Ther rice pops, like popcorn. Keep stirring! Then dump it in twice the amount of water (than rice), with fish bullion, safran, s&p. Simmer for 15 min. Slice and sauté a couple onions, mushrooms and tomatoes, zucchini squash, garlic (that´s what we had in stock!) Then add "mixed seafood", bought at Pingo´s: shrimp, clam oyster, mussels, squid rings. Add a little white wine. Cover. Simmer for a bit. Add the rice, simmer some more. Eat with a good Portugese red wine, under the Bimini and enjoy the sunset, then the full moon.

There are about 9 Scandinavian boats here for the moment and they meet in the evenings at the café. The boat "signatures" (small paintings!) line the quay wall. The Scandinavian ones all include their national flags, a very flag-y bunch.

Anchoring in the moonlight

Our forth day out; the seas have calmed a bit. Things are looking up. The wind is now directly behind us so we have goose-winged the genoa and main sail. "Lille Per" wind pilot, is fabulous. We steer slightly off our highway, but manage to zig-zag slightly back to track.

This is tonights dinner:

"Chili con carne ála Babette"
Slice and sauté 3 small onions, a small package of bacon , 3 or 4 potatos, about 8 mushrooms, garlic, 2 large tomatoes. Add a can of chilibeans and a can of diced tomatoes , with herbs, or add them!. Simmer 10- 20 min. Eat with, relatively, cold beer, as the distace to Madeira decreases.

The sun sets spectacularly at about 8pm. The almost full moon is out, lighting our path. With several hours to go we can also follow the Porto Santo lighthouse' blink in the distanse.
Under steep volcanic cliffs we round the outlying peninsula and barely avoid the unlit concrete moorings outside the harbour. We enter. Now we have to try anchoring by moonlight.

There are some obstacles inside too. Rings of small buoys, unlit rowboats and sailboats, a ferry landing area, fishing-boat traffic. We try out two different spots before we're satisfied with a third. At 1am we can finally enjoy supper and an anchor dram.

Now, breath out.

Third day at sea

Following our rumbline towards Porto Santo we sail up another sailboat, going more or less our way. Nice company in a mostly empty sea. But now this sail has vanished beneath the stern horizon.

We are blown along by the same strong winds, more from the NW, but my sea-legs are back. Scottish oatmeal porridge with raisins, that's what convinces my stomach it can live on a boat.

Just add seasickness tablets.

Leaving Europe behind

We're turning our backs on Portugal and Europe, heading southwest to islands off the North African coast, with a Portuguese population.
The winds, still sea-sicky strong, are more from behind, WNW.

For Ørnulf, it's a great sail; for me a day to make it through.

Swift winds to Porto Santo

We set in just one "way-point", in a SW direction, right outside the Porto Santo lighthouse. Then we're off with the wind abeam. With full sails we're getting full speed, our 6kn. The choppy seas don´t agree with my stomach; we've had too many days ashore. So, for the first time on this trip I'm feeling seriously queasy.

Outside of my watches you´ll find me in my bunk.

Last night in Lisbon

The morning melts away in preparations for our next crossing. This time we sail to "The Madeira Archipelago", the island Porto Santo. There are more repairs on our main sail, from North Sails. The webbing, poorly sewn, has loosened at several of the sliders and needs re-sewing.
In the afternoon we join up with Eiliff and Kari in "Blå" from Bergen. We take the train to Lisbon, and walk around in the Barrio Alto, the old city. An exhilerating walk up and down the San Francisco-steep (or Bergen-steep!) hills. A nice Plaza, a lovely park with a panorama view of the city, the castle and the harbour. As evening falls we find a "Fado" restaurant, eat Bacalao and listen to the music. I'm afraid we'll never find quite the same very special Fado experience as we had in Porto.

In any case we've had a great Lisbon day and now a fun dinner with good sailor friends, from Bergen boat, "Blå".

A multi-talented bus driver

Our bus leaves at 9:30 for the 4 1/2 hour ride back to Lisbon. Same dusty hills, olive trees and villages. But we, after a bit, can't help but having our attention drawn to our "EVA BUS" driver.
Besides driving along the 120 km/hr. limit highway he smokes in our no-smoking bus, eats whole packages of cookies at a go, rings and talks in his cell-phone, and, WATCHES MOVIES!! After turning on a movie that I mistakenly thought was for the passengers' benefit, he uses 4 of every 5 seconds watching the movie himself: Watch movie for four seconds, glance at road for one. We're sitting up front, and counting.

Happy to arrive in one piece in Lisbon!!

Wandering in Seville's paradise Gardens

Today we're over by the 1929 exposision buildings. They form a half-circle, a tower at each end. And all around there is a huge expanse of gardens. This Spain-South America exposition was first delayed by an unfortunate event: WW1. Then it barely squeezed by in front of the '29 crack. The architectural style is an echo of Seville's older,Arabian buildings and gardens. We enjoy tapas and a cold beer in a little café in the gardens while a man from Senegal with a calabas lute entertains at the tables for a slight fee.

The Arts and Industries museum and the Archeology Museum are worth seeing. Especially the good Roman sculpture and mosaic collection. In September there is plenty of elbow-room, no queues any where. Warm, not hot, with a pleasant breeze, perfect timing to see Seville!

Galloping up a bell tower

Staying at Ørnulf's niece's apartment we get a glimpse into the long working hours here and how that affects a young Spanish family. We also get to play with 1 1/2 yr. old Andrea in the evening. A very charming young lady!!

Seville has fantastic gardens and elegant buildings with their Arabian origins evident in the intricate designs, tiles and carvings. Their huge gothic cathedral (world´s biggest gothic!) also has Islamic roots. Its enclosed cloister, the orange tree garden, was the mosque´s "sahn". The square bell tower was a minaret. To climb it you go up a series of ramps, not steps. Apparently it was built like this so the ruler could ride his mount to the top to proclaim victory over the enemy!

And there was has been a series of victories and defeats. A Visigoth temple was built at this site, a series of mosques, then cathedrals. The huge mosque here was, in 1248, converted to cathedral without knocking it down and rebuilding. It was the earthquake in the 1300´s that pulled it down. Then they decided to build a new cathedral, "so big they'll think us mad". And they did. The interior space is badly cluttered with Baroque inventions, marble structures, organs, golden alters full of cherubs and saints. High iron fences block the view of all the alters. Black plastic chairs are scattered around the base of the "elephant-leg" pillars. A sarcophage, supposedly containing the remains of Chris. Columbus, occupies one corner. There's no gothic feeling of space, no stretching towards heaven, no pull towards the alter. Just a confusing, broken-up jumble.

The cloister garden, with its orange trees, is lovely. Here the Arabian origins are abundantly evident. In the horse-shoe arches, tiles, intricate stone relieffs. The tower, The Giralda, or weather-vane, has the same Islamic sebka decor. The vane is a huge, 4 meter high, bronze statue: "Faith". She holds a huge shield, catching the wind and revolving.

The nearby Royal Palace-Fortress, Reales Alcazares, has a simular historical record: from Roman-Christian (5th cent.) to Arabic (8th cent.) then Norman Govenors' Palace, Syrian built, (12.cent.) before Fernando II´s victory in 1248 made it the royal home. Muslim and Christian craftsmen, side by side, created this lovely paradise of richly decorated rooms and gardens. Again, geometric patterns of tiles and carved stones, bright colors and gold. Fountains, orange trees, decorative shrubs, palms in garden upon garden.

I wouldn't wonder that both Moslem and Christian might imagine they'd already reached the promised paradise, I know we did.

A five-hour bus-ride to Seville, Spain

The alarm set for 05:45, in "Babette", the train, at 6:30,goes to Lisbon, the Metro to the bus station, and the bus on it is on its way at 08:30. Glad we negotiated the various bus companies and bought tickets yesterday!

We drive through dry hills, rows and rows of olive trees, some with pigs or sheep enjoying their shade. Red-tiled, white-washed villages, castles on hillsides, come and go along our way. If you blinked you missed the Portugese/Spanish border. Very civilised!

The landscape gradually urbanised into the lovely "Arabian" city of Seville.

Happy Birthday, Ørnulf!!

Ørnulf is 67 yrs. old today, a real Jubilado. I like the optimistic tone in the spanish term for retired. It sounds so tired in English.

Lisbon is only a half hour train ride from Cascais, and we're on it. Ørnulf buys a couple shorts and shirts and doubles his clothes collection on board.
The city of Lisbon is pleasant, hilly, with an open city-center facing the harbor, and a castle on a hill. The city was more or less erased by a quake in the 1700's, but rebuilt nicely. The city was rebuilt with a rectangular center and broad avenues. Now there's a huge stone-paved pedestrian area there, with parasoled outdoor cafés right down the middle.

We wander slowly up steep cobbled lanes towards the S.Joao Castle in the old quarter. Almost up, an open red door catches our attention. Through it, down a few steps, and we're in a little paradise of a garden café, with a huge tree growing out of the stones and a spectacular view of the city under palm leaves, and green parasols. We look down on red-tiled roofes, the monuments and gothic churches in the city, the harbor, river, its Golden Gate bridge, with a huge Christ statue, alá Rio, on the other side. A relaxing place to sit and write postcards, eat tapas, have a glass of white wine.

Then we take the final cobblestone climb up to the castle. We walk along the defence walls with great views between the slits. We're getting good at that!
The sun is setting, coloring Lisbon golden, as we grab a ride on a little yellow trolley back down to town.

A genaker sail in light winds to Cascais

Having an unused genaker sail down in “Babette’s” lockers, ever since we bought the boat four years ago, we decide that today is the day to try it out.

It works. And very well in the light following winds.

At 18:30 we enter the Cascais harbor. A big, modern marina, 27 euro s/night for our 32´boat. "Old" sailing pals, English "Sarah Grace" and Swedish, "Grace" and "Regina" are on the same pontoon.

Very homey.

Anchored at Ilha Berlinga

Today we depart Nazaré Marina, say thank you and goodbye to the helpful, nice "Isle of Man" couple who run it. We are a little cortège of Norwegian boats, "Blue Marlin", "Agape" and "Blå" (that’s Blue) from Bergen, heading for Ilha Berlinga, a rugged red rock pierced by grottos and lagoons: a diver's paradise.

There's a light house high up, mid-island. And there's a fortress, that looks like it's carved right out of the rock at the harbor entrance. A few houses hug the harbor, but, otherwise, just vertical cliffs and seabirds. And a jolly Portuguese gathering with long fishing poles, precariously perched on these cliffs, optimistically casting, seemingly all night. I didn’t notice anyone actually catching anything. But by the sounds of it, it didn't seem to matter.

"Blue Marlin" and "Agape" have problems anchoring and decide to leave shortly. They continue on, to Madeira, about a 4, 5 days sail south. We hope to meet again, in a couple of weeks from now. "Blå" has its rubber dinghy out; they explore the cliffs and grottos, and finds a Norwegian woman living up by the lighthouse!

We have a wild and windy night, but “Babette” stays put; the anchor has bitten fast in the rocky sand bottom.

Monasteries and more miracles

Alcobaça, Batalha, Fatima and Óbidos

Off we go, zipping along in our rental car, on the 120 km/hr. highways. Quite a contrast to “Babette’s” 6 knots top speed. That’s jogging! So, after a look at the map we opt for more sedate, winding country roads. We're off to Portugal's top gothic monasteries in Alcobaça and Batalha.

Alcobaça's Basilica, from about 1200, is Portugal's largest. And possibly loveliest! The high, narrow, gothic interior is in a light stone, unadorned. The long nave seems plain, but powerful as it soars above you, and pulls you, pillar by pillar, towards the alter and apse. The Cistercian Monastery attached has a wonderful enclosed, arcaded cloister garden. There are orange trees, the ripe fruit fallen on the ground, a beautiful fountain in one corner. Very peaceful.

Next Basilica: Batalha. It seemed more Moorish and ornate, and also absolutely lovely. The first Portuguese king, Jaoa I, had it built to celebrate beating the invading Castilians in 1385. But a few lances and shining armor had rusted on the battlefields before its completion in 1580. No rush, no stress back then.
The organic style with shells and rope carved in marble is called Manueline, from King Manuel I. Its maritime symbols matching Portugal’s age of maritime discovery (Remember Vasco da Gama?) This Basilica, also in a light stone, has intricate high relief stonework and just as intricate rose windows, the colored glass painting the light stone in all the colors of the rainbow. A fairytale castle feeling.

Fatima is different. One of the world's most popular pilgrimage goals, it all started simply enough. The three children are watching their sheep in an oak grove in the evening. When the Virgin Mary visits them. Their intense experience of a light, and the Virgin Mary is now transformed to an enormous stone basilica with an even more enormous plaza in front, a couple of football fields long, I can imagine. All grey stone and empty of the hundreds of thousands of pilgrims, it appears very barren. These believers crowd the town during special holy days. Completed as late as 1953, it's a conglomeration of historical styles, sadly lacking the human touch of the medieval stonemason’s hands. The gigantism of the outdoor arena lacks the mystery of the gothic cathedral's heaven-stretching height. Here there are glassed-in, microphone Masses, not echo-y acoustics in long, narrow, stone naves and hundreds of organ pipes. Fatima is about as far from its childish sincerity as it could possibly come. A softening aspect, though, are the shady picnic groves with stone slab tables and benches surrounding the back sides of the Basilica.

Óbidos: We caught sight of the old aqueducts and walled city on a hill from a long distance. It's a fairytale city and castle, from the 1200's. We walked along the ramparts, high up on the castle walls. Watch your step; it's a long drop on the open inner side! The houses inside are built as late as the 1700's and are still lived in. The castle is a "state hotel, a "Pousada”. Now I know where I'm staying next trip to Portugal!

By now the sun is setting, the castle walls golden, the darkening plains beyond almost purple. We’d better get back to "Babette" before we turn into pumpkins.

Nazaré, a deer hunting miracle

We sit in the funicular, ascending the near vertical slopes of the obviously eroding cliffs of Sitio, the old town of Nazaré. Hoping that the age of miracles isn't over. And not looking down.

It seems that it all started here in the middle-ages when a Virgin Mary statue from Nazareth in the Holy Land miraculously appears here: hence Nazaré. The next time one hears of this statue is when local lord, Don Fuas Roupinho, goes out deer hunting in the fog one day. Riding along, towards the brink, the deer goes flying over, as shown in the church painting. But our squire, Don Fuas, invokes the Virgin Mary and his trusty steed rears, right at the overhanging precipice' edge. Both are miraculously spared.

The deer on the other hand... Well, a chapel was built in the Virgin's honor, and tourists can now buy postcards showing the deer in mid-flight, and the horse and rider looking suitably shaken, but safe on the narrow overhanging rocks above the Nazaré bay.

And we too arrive safely up after our funicular ride, to wander about along the paths lining the crumbling overhangs.