Lisbon: Alfama: Hills, Trams and Tuk Tuks

Lisbon is the capital of Portugal and its biggest city. Three quarters of this long-inhabited city were destroyed in the massive earthquake of 1755, but Alfama, which existed before Lisbon did, remains. My guidebooks tell me it is a must stop for every tourist, and we were certainly part of that crowd. We stayed at a hotel in Alfama, built into the side of a hill. Arriving aboard the express train from Porto (a pleasant 3.5 hour ride with views of vineyards and cornfields) we arrived at St. Apolonia station at the base of Alfama and noted we were only a kilometer (about half a mile) from our hotel.

We had packed relatively lightly, there were wheels on our suitcases, why not just walk there? Ah, but this is not Kansas.

It’s all uphill via a labyrinth of cobbled lanes and steep staircases. Thanks to Google Maps, we found our way but arrived at the front desk out of breath and unpleasantly sweaty. (We later learned you go uphill a block to catch ride shares. This, of course, is where we did to catch our Uber to the airport at the end of our stay. So much more pleasant.)

Our guidebook advised us the joy of Alfama “lies in getting lost.” It’s not hard to do. Many walk around with their heads down looking at Google Maps on their phone. For once, my lack of direction didn’t hinder me, because I remember landmarks much better (that staircase also had a ramp; this restaurant is around the corner from our hotel) and often led the way, as Steven looked down at his phone. In Alfama, you are either going up or going down. Going down is toward the Tagus River; up is to St. George’s castle. And if you get tired (and you will) you sit on a step and observe all the layers of life in Alfama. We chose to walk uphill and discovered trams and tuk tuks chugging, chugging up and down, ready to help you avoid sweating out the climb. Tuk tuks are like golf carts, but tougher, and usually wildly and beautifully decorated. Tuk tuks are regulated but are open air. Not generally a problem in Lisbon, which can get hot and very hot. Just read that the City of Lisbon wants to limit the number of Tuk Tuks, but for now they are ubiquitous. We never rode a Tuk Tuk, but rode old trams and new trams and buses and trains. Transportation options in Lisbon are excellent and cheap. Leave your rental car in the rental lot, please!

Our sweaty climb uphill rewarded us with amazing vistas. By getting lost we had discovered St. Lucy’s overlook, near the statue of St. Vincent, the patron saint of Lisbon.

Normandy: Rouen: Plague Ossuaries: Aître Saint-Maclou

Rouen is not just the place Joan of Arc gruesomely met her end, it is also the site of one of the few remaining plague ossuaries.

Here in a quiet courtyard now filled with benches, birds, and airy lamps lies a medieval burial pit and ossuary. According to Wikipedia, the Black Death was present in France between 1347-1352. The bubonic plague pandemic reached France by ship from Italy to Marseille in November 1347 and spread south to north. The presence of the plague was documented in the Normanniae nova Cronica to have reached Rouen during the feast of John the Baptist on 24 June 1348. An unlucky day indeed.

In Normandy, plague victims were so common it was impossible to bury the corpses adequately. In Rouen, a courtyard was set aside, a great pit dug, and bodies tossed in with ingredients to aid quick decomposition.

After successive waves of the plague in the 15th and 16th centuries, the bones from the last pandemic were removed and stacked in a second-floor gallery to make way for more bodies. Formerly called the ossuary (a receptable for human remains), it is a rare reminder of the greatest series of pandemics ever recorded.

Though defaced by time and religious wars, on the stone columns supporting the first floor, a danse macabre is depicted. What is the dance of death? A living person stands next to a skeleton come to take their life. Both kings and priests and peasants were portrayed; death could await them all.

Above the columns, still very visible in the carved wood, were the tools of the gravedigger, shovels and picks, and the bones to be buried. As the plague claimed fewer and fewer victims, the courtyard grounds were used for schools, and eventually the human remains were moved to another cemetery. Now it’s just a shady place to picnic, if you don’t mind the ghosts.

France: Churches and Cathedrals

While I know I’m might be exaggerating just a mite, it seems like you can’t throw a stick in France without hitting a cathedral or church.

Steven and I saw our fair share of cathedrals and churches in France (such that Steven said he was “churched out” by the time we got to Portugal, though we did see a Manueline Gothic church in Lisbon anyway. More on that later.) Every cathedral I saw was magnificent, an architectural and spiritual marvel.

Not being Catholic, I had to educate myself on cathedrals. It is a church, but with a bishop, so a much bigger deal. (A bishop is third in the hierarchy of clergy, below the pope and above priests and deacons.) I was also reminded that cathedrals have their own architectural vocabulary. You have the nave and the transept and chancel (alter) and ambulatory and tower and choir and crypt, and my favorite, the tympanum. I quote Google’s AI here: “A tympanum is a decorative wall surface above an entrance, door, or window that is enclosed by an arch and lintel.” Basically, it’s the sculpture above the door that tells a biblical story or the story of a saint (usually martyrdom of the saint, alas). I also learned that during the French Revolution and the French Wars of Religion, a lot of these statutes and sculptures were beheaded and defaced. I saw a lot of history erased.

Cathedrals have several styles as well, but mainly Romanesque (rounded arches), and Gothic (pointed arches). And often they are mixed together. Here's another thing, except for St. Chapelle (which is not actually a cathedral), cathedrals take a long time to build, often interrupted by wars and invasions. But like a pearl, the cathedral is added on to over time in beautiful ways. The Bayeux cathedral, for example, has sections built from the 11th Century to the 19th Century! Herewith, some special features of the cathedrals and churches I saw.

Notre Dame, Paris. This is the mother of all cathedrals, but alas, under repair since the devastating fire of 2019 in which the roof mostly collapsed. See my separate post on Notre Dame Paris.

Ste Chapelle, Paris. 13th century. Tour de force of stained glass, plus all the stories of the bible. If you can crane your neck for long periods of time you can find them all. Built at record speed to house the relic of Jesus' crown of thorns. See my separate post on this architectural and spiritual marvel.

Rouen Cathedral. Rebuilt in the 13th century after it was destroyed by the Vikings and fire, it was rebuilt again after WWII. Its cast iron spire, built in the 19th century, is the highest in France. Claude Monet painted its façade 30 times. It is said to be a fine example of “flamboyant” Gothic style (think “frilly”). Contains the tombs of Rollo, the first Duke of Normandy (and a Viking), and Richard the Lionheart (specifically, the heart of Richard the Lionheart!!), and a chapel dedicated to St. Joan of Arc, who was burned at the stake in Rouen in 1431. Contains tympanums of the Last Judgment (featuring a hellish hot tub) and the Tree of Jesse (with a tree growing out of Jesse’s back, all the way up to Jesus).

Rouen’s Church of St. Joan of Arc. Located on the site of Joan of Arc’s execution in 1431, this church will stay in your memory. It is a modern church from 1970 (of which there aren’t so many in France). The exterior hides the light filled interior. Built in in the shape of an overturned Viking longship, it straddles the ruins of older churches. Stained glass from the 16th century church is preserved in a soaring wall of glass, white and colored. Moving and not to be missed.

Bayeux Cathedral. Built by William the Conqueror’s half-brother Bishop Odon. Dedicated on July 14, 1077. It was here the famous Bayeux Tapestry was exhibited before the tapestry got its own museum. Only the crypts from that time period remain (beautifully decorated with angel musicians). Now contains a stained-glass window representing the coat of arms of the military battalions that freed Bayeux during WWII and prevented the town’s destruction.

Jumieges Abbey. A cathedral and church and abbey in ruins thanks to the French Revolution. But the most beautiful ruins. A meditative mix of styles. Bring a picnic and feel the vibes. See my separate post.

Mt. St. Michel Abbey Church. It’s not technically a cathedral (because run by monks and not a bishop), but it sure feels like a cathedral, built in the shape of a cross with soaring ceilings and flying buttresses. It was never sacked by invading armies, but then it’s on an island with tides that come in like a “galloping horse.” Getting to the abbey involves a tortuous sweaty climb, but its not a pilgrimage without some effort.

Normandy: Rouen: Gros Horloge

Now that I’m back in the states, I wanted to cover a few more memorable bits of our trip to France. One of them was certainly visiting the famous clock tower in Rouen, the Gros Horloge (big clock). Back in the 12th and 13th centuries, the nobility had their palaces, the clergy their abbeys and cathedrals, and the wealthy craftsmen and tradesmen their clock and bell towers. By the 13th century, the bourgeois (those wealthy tradesmen) built the belfry that would house the Gros Horloge.

At first, the tower just had bells, rung by hand. Not just small bells, but massive bells, weighing 1-2 tons each. One bell, the “Cache Ribaud” rang the curfew alarm at 9 pm, to get the “ribauds” (debauched individuals) off the street. Starting in the 14th century, the bell was rung every hour of the day to regulate the workers’ day. The “Rouvel” bell initially just sounded fire alarms. Later, the “Normandie” bell struck quarter hours.

From the 14th century, the bells were set off by clock mechanisms, then a clock face was added. Now you could both see and hear the hours. By hours I mean just that; there was no second hand for minutes. In those days just knowing the hour was sufficiently precise. But there was more! A perpetual calendar wheel was added, with zodiac signs indicating the day of the week, and up top a revolving globe showed the phases of the moon. This was all packaged in a red, blue and gold clock face that straddles one of the main medieval streets of Rouen, called appropriately enough, Rue du Gros Horloge. It is beautiful, as evidenced by the tourists pausing to take picture after picture.

We climbed the interior of the tower, with our English audio guide at the ready. Portholes here and there give you views of the Cathedral and street below.

We saw the lodgings of the “Governor,” aka clock keeper. He was usually a locksmith and smithy, able to wind the clock and repair it, and fined if proper time wasn’t kept. The position was handed down from father to son. All told, there were 25 Governors over six centuries. The last one retired in 1970.

Then we came to the clock mechanism itself. The size of a small room, I understand it is one of the oldest clock mechanisms in Europe. There are a lot of cogs and gears and weights and balance wheels and ropes. It was replaced by an electric clock in 1928, but my guidebook tells me it is still in working order. Its sheer size and complexity is impressive, though I couldn't begin to describe how it works.

At the very top of the belfry, you can circumnavigate the tower on a narrow and wind swept balcony. Here Steven looks out over the city of Rouen, its famous cathedral in the distance.

Down on the street, as you pass under the clock face, is another surprise. A limestone sculpture from the Renaissance period features Jesus the shepherd and his many sheep. (Rouen had a big wool trade). If you look closely, there is also incongruously a miller climbing into his windmill and Hercules slaying a monster. An elaborate fountain around the corner caps everything off.

It’s just a few Euros to climb the clock tower. Don’t miss if it you’re in Rouen.

Porto, Portugal: Boat Tour, Reibeira, Gaia

Every tourist must take a boat tour in Porto; it’s the unwritten rule. No need to book too far in advance. All the boats that used to transport goods and barrels of port wine, are now in the business of transporting tourists.

We chose Porto Boating (highly recommend), a motorboat company that moors at the end of the last bridge. Our companions on board were two French twins, a Portuguese couple, and a trilingual French couple, one of whom was born in Portugal. The French/Portuguese couple translated for the French sisters, our guides spoke in English and we were all happy.

Over two hours, we languidly worked our way to the Atlantic, where we were greeted with a fine mist. Our guide put on a heavy coat at this point and worried that I was cold despite my wool cardigan! Porto is known for its heat, so an understandable reaction from a local. Along the way, we tasted three types of port – blanc (white), tawny, and ruby. Blanc port is hard to get in the U.S. and the taste was new to me. I liked it the best and told my new French/Portuguese friend in fractured French the same: Je prefere le blanc aussi!

Well-fortified, we then set off to explore the older parts of Porto – Ribeira and Gaia – along the Douro riverbank. It was a Monday but packed with tourists and vendors. It was if everyone had taken the day off.

Portugal was never invaded during WWII, and Porto has a tenderly worn look to it. Buildings date back to the 14th century and are distinguished by narrow cobbled lanes and bright tiles in pink, yellow, blue, red, and green.

Not to mention the purple church.

Even McDonald’s was tiled.

We walked with the masses looking for the perfect restaurant along the waterfront. We were advised by our boating crew to try a Freschnina (check spelling), a sandwich stuffed with a variety of meat and then covered in tomato sauce. It would be better in Porto than Lisbon, we were assured. But in the end, we elected to have a custard tart and Sangria near the base of Pont de Luiz I. The port wine and snacks on our boat tour had filled us up.

Then we walked across that same bridge to Gaia. This side contains the caves and wine shops of the most known port companies, especially Sandeman. As we’d already had our port tasting for the day, we just admired the colorful buildings and traditional boats lining the riverbank.

Our evening was completed with a five-star traditional Portuguese meal in our very own Hotel des Virtudes.