Tag Archives: Caminho Portugues

Day 11 – Walking (!) from Quinta da Cortiça to Ansião: a delightful day

8 Replies

Monday 7 September 2026 – The Quinta was a good oasis in the middle of nowhere – spacious room, availability of hot water and milk, etc, but the facilities didn’t extend to air conditioning. We had a fan in the room which was better than nothing but rather noisy. Consideration of the weather (i.e. temperature) forecast, the improvement in Jane’s cough – she was able to sleep through the night without paroxysms – and the relatively modest distance to our next accommodation in Ansião of about 19km made the idea of actually walking seem like a reasonable prospect; if we set out before 7am, we could expect to arrive before midday, and the temperature should still be below 30°C by that stage.  As I’ve said previously, the breakfast arrangements at the Quinta meant that some breakfast foods were laid out overnight, with bread, we were told, arriving at 6am. So the alarm went off at 0500 (ah! the Camino!) and we were in the kitchen, along with all the other peregrinos staying there, before 6am.

The smooth organisation of the Quinta fell rather to pieces at this point, at least for those who wanted coffee at breakfast; the coffee machine refused to dispense coffee (but was still OK for nice hot water for our tea, hurrah!). Also, the bread hadn’t arrived by about quarter past six, so we (and all the other peregrinos) decided to cut and run, having had just cornflakes and fruit. We took a small milk container with us because, well, you never know.

So, we departed at 0625, with the moon still in the sky and into beautiful, cool – possibly even a tad chilly – conditions.

Others departed at the same time as we did,

and we got a real feeling of – at last! – being On A Camino, rather than just wandering along being stared at by locals because we were wearing backpacks. Another good thing was being able to moan (quietly) about the other peregrinos; the girl on the left in front had no ferrules on her sticks, so they were a staccato accompaniment to what would have been lovely early morning twilight if they’d only stop prattling to each other. There was also the sound of quite loud conversation behind us for about 20 minutes, and soon we were overtaken by

a solo peregrina, who was gabbling away on her phone! One wonders why, if she dislikes silence and her own company so much, she is bothering to walk a Camino. But this is all me being grumpy. Of course other people can do their Caminos the way they want, even if it does show that they’re idiots.

Jane, ever eagle-eyed, spotted that we passed some fig trees which were sporting some lovely ripe fruit,

so we helped ourselves to Nature’s bounty (or at least the bit we could reach) to supplement the rather limited breakfast we’d had.  All the way along our route today there were various fruits to be seen: sweet chestnuts, walnuts, pomegranates, persimmons, quince, peaches (or possibly apricots, depending on whether you believe Google lens or not) and even apples.

We started off on tarmac, but soon diverted onto a cobbled path,

past Belladonna Lilies, which were in full flower. Eventually, of course, the sun cleared the horizon

but because of the low angle, we continued to walk in shade.

We came to a section where there were several Cork Oak trees,

in an area which looked like it was being sympathetically managed,

with careful and not excessive extraction of the bark. Since this tree is a big part of the Portuguese ecosystem, it was good to see.  I noted one that had been cut down, for whatever reason, and it is a good demonstration of how thick the bark can be.

We walked through pleasant countryside, tiny hamlets and some smaller villages. As we went along, there were some nice decorative touches to be seen: sculptures;

the occasional mural;

decorative topiary;

architectural flourishes;

lots of decorative tile work;

and this lovely mailbox.

Another thing that gave today that “authentic Camino feel” was the existence, after 5km, of a town, Alvaiázere, which was substantial enough

to feature somewhere to stop and take coffee,

so we did, of course, and a pastry (got to make up for that lack of bread, y’know), in a café which gave us chapter and verse on how much further we had to go.

The sun rose, as is typical of its daily behaviour

and occasionally provided some nice warmth – it really felt almost chilly. But our route was largely in shade

for which we were duly thankful. The kilometres after Alvaiázere were up quite a long ascent, and I’d taken my walking poles with me in case it turned out to be burdensome. But actually it was perfectly comfortable to walk up; being largely in the shade really helped, of course.

Every so often, we’d pass through a hamlet, and it was actually difficult to decide whether some of them were entirely abandoned or just very, very quiet.

There were several buildings which were clearly disused. This one was rather magnificent in its decrepitude

and this one was clearly being sold as a bit of a doer-upper.

We had a variety of surfaces to walk on, mostly either tarmac or cobbles. There was the occasional stretch of dirt road and at one point a fairly rough track which required care with one’s footwork.

Eventually we saw in the distance what I took to be Ansião

and we headed there, despite some slightly confusing waymarkery.

The outskirts provided some pleasant touches to the houses we passed

and we soon reached the town proper,

and, at 1126, just five hours after setting out, our accommodation, Ansiturismo, which is described as an Alojimento – lodgings, I suppose.

On entering, we found ourselves in a general situation that I suspect we’ll encounter many, many more times before we get to Santiago – there was no-one at reception, and check-in time noted as 3pm. So we discussed what we should do next in quite loud voices, just in case someone might hear us. And our luck was in! A lady came down the stairs very clearly equipped for doing the cleaning. Her English was limited but her preparedness to help boundless. She showed us across the road to another establishment, where our Walk The Camino booking was registered, and they gave us the magic combination that enabled us to unlock the key to our room, which had been cleaned and was ready for us. The cleaner also showed us where our bags were and led us to our room; she really couldn’t have been more helpful, and we were very appreciative.

As you can see from the photo, Ansiturismo is a modern building, and, like the other modern places we’ve stayed at, well-organised. The room had air con and a kettle! (There was also a fridge, but although it was making noises, it didn’t appear to be cooling anything.) So we could indulge ourselves in a cup of tea and a bit of a rest before heading out to find some lunch.

Ansião is a reasonably substantial town, so I had thought that we would have a choice of bars and/or restaurants. We walked towards the one I had thought would be a good choice, only to find that it was closed, so we headed back to one we’d passed earlier, which began to look like the only option. The town was very quiet, but is not bereft of charm.

It even boasts a Town Name!

I was slightly amused by one place we passed. I’ve commented before that it’s sometimes difficult at first blush, to distinguish whether a wall is covered in artistic display or decayed plaster. This building had both.

We took our lunch, therefore, in Manjar do Diogo, which translates as “Diogo’s Delight”. It’s a lunchtime joint, with a pastelaria and a cafeteria, so we went into the cafeteria bit and a nice young lass behind the counter explained how things worked and ladled masses of good healthy salad on to our plates (as well as opening a bottle of beer each for us). Total cost of lunch was €19, good value and healthy. Having stuffed our faces, we took coffee in the pastelaria and scored a couple of cakes (for later on, in case of extreme pangs, you understand), and headed back to our – now cool – room in Ansiturismo. By this time, the sun was stingingly hot, so we were glad we’d made the earlier start.

Today has been a very pleasant day. We have a walk tomorrow of a similar distance to today’s – 20km, ending in a small place called Zambujal. I rather think it’ll be not dissimilar to the Quinta da Cortiça, i.e. the only accommodation anywhere near; I can’t find evidence of any other bars or shops or that kind of thing. We will start out early again – earlier than Ansiturismo is prepared to offer us breakfast – so need to go shopping for supplies before the stores close today. The temperature should be less than today and I’m hoping that tomorrow will be as enjoyable as today has been.

 

 

 

Day 10 – Leaving Tomar for Quinta da Cortiça

2 Replies

Sunday 6 September 2026 – Rest day over and we moved on today, so we had to get our bags down to reception by 0800 for their collection. Having done that, it seemed a good idea to have breakfast, after which we had plenty of time to spare. Our bags were headed to Quinta da Cortiça, some 25km away, and the information we had told us that check-in started at 4pm. Google Maps told us that it was an oasis in the desert – it was in the middle of the countryside with no other buildings anywhere near. Turning up at midday might thus be the start of a long and dull wait, so we amused ourselves in Tomar until it was time to whistle up an Uber. Much of this amusement consisted of lounging in the hotel lounge and having our third Nice Lunch on the trot, but we weren’t entirely hedonistic, as there was a speicific church to visit, and also Jane had found a mystery activity for us. Read on to find out what that was.

The church in question was the one at which there had been a wedding going on when we visited yesterday and it would have been poor form to intrude on that beyond the single grab shot I took from the door. We got there today at about 9.45, and – there was a service going on – well it is Sunday –

so fossicking about would again have raised eyebrows among the faithful. We went and found a spot in the shade, from where we got a view of the sunny side of the building

which included, we noted, a five-point star in the circular window above the altar. We waited for about 15 minutes and, bang on 10am, the church emptied so that we could go in to search for what we were interested in. The church, Igreja de Santa Maria do Olival, has special significance for the Knight Templars; while the Fortress/Charola was the physical operational and military headquarters of the Order in the country, this Church was effectively the seat of the Order’s institutional, ecclesiastical and canonical identity in Portugal. It served as a necropolis for the masters of the Order and was formally the mother church of all the Templar/Order of Christ churches in Portugal and in the subsequently discovered territories of Asia, Africa and America.

So, when it was quiet

we went in. You can make out the five-point star window at the back. The shape was significant to the Templars – five points representing the five wounds of Christ.

Going into the church, it was not obvious where the various remnants were, so we asked, and were pointed at the second chapel in on the right. Even then things weren’t clear beyond a sort of roll call,

but eventually we clocked the various items of significance on the chapel wall.

The 12th-century medieval funerary slab (epitaph) of Dom Gualdim Pais, the fourth Grand Master of the Knights Templar in Portugal and founder of the city of Tomar

The commemorative plaque placed by the people of Tomar in 1895, to mark the 7th centenary of the death of Gualdim Pais

The medieval Latin epitaph of Dom Lourenço Martins, the 18th and final Master of the Knights Templar in Portugal

We also noted this tomb embedded n the main chapel of the church.

The Renaissance tomb of D. Diogo Pinheiro (1437–1526)—the first Bishop of Funchal and Vicar General of the Order of Christ

We also found a real live Tabuleiro, as used (you remember, of course) in the famous four-yearly Festa dos Tabuleiros (Festival of the Trays). It is absolutely enormous and how any maiden could balance that on her head is frankly beyond me.

Finding these items, and getting a selo for our credentiales, made the visit very worthwhile, so, satisfied, we headed off to the mystery location that Jane had discovered. En route, we passed first a really very substantial antiques/bric-a-brac market

and then two more bits of the ubiquitous Templar branding: a mural

and the town hall square,

where the branding guys have really gone to town with the Templar motif in the walkway paving.

The mystery destination was just by the town hall square.

Of all the things I would not have expected to find in the home of the Knights Templar and the Order of Christ, pretty much at the top of the list would be a Matchbox Museum. Not just any old Matchhbox museum, but Europe’s largest, with more than 43,000 matchboxes from over 120 countries. Obvs we took a load of photos. Here are a few.

Seven rooms contain the selection, which is still open for people to provide new boxes
A UK Selection
More UK boxes
A Set of boxes – Dice
Another set – chess pieces
Boxes from Spain (a tiny fraction of the total)
Boxes from the Soviet Union and Russia
A bewildering variety of countries
A bewildering variety of countries

If you have a couple of minutes to spare, you can watch this walk through, which might give you an idea of how bogglingly many boxes there are.

So the whole morning was rather a wheeze, and a very satisfactory coda to our time in the city.

By the time we’d had lunch, we experienced the first real evidence of surge pricing when we went to whistle up our Uber – the price had doubled, presumably because it was Sunday afternoon and we wanted to go out into the boondocks. I’m not complaining, by the way, just commenting. We had to wait 20 minutes for a car, but in the end had a comfortable ride to Quinta da Cortiça, arriving shortly after 4pm, having once again witnessed what some of the walking conditions would have been like, in 32°C heat and pitiless sunshine.

The Quinta really is in the middle of nowhere, but we were made welcome by Maria, who rather surprised us by asking if we wanted a room each. Somehow or other a double booking had been created and one of them hadn’t been cancelled. Jane and I are still talking to each other (not a given, reading about some other people’s holiday experiences) so once the situation had been clarified (thank you, WhatsApp), we went to our room to relax for the rest of the day.

Being actually on the Caminho route, the place is set up for pilgrims, with some dormitory-style accommodation, plus a block of three new private rooms – of which we had one, obvs. The view from our room was lovely,

and the place has a lounge and kitchen (with a fridge! and milk provided!)

They offer a pilgrim’s dinner, which we didn’t participate in, having had our Nice Lunch, and breakfast is laid out the night before, with bread arriving at 6am each day. This makes an early, but breakfasted, departure easy, for we plan to grasp the nettle and actually walk the 19km to our next destination, Ansião. I’m conscious that these pages appear under the title of “Walking the Caminho Português” so I reckon I’ll feel better once we’re doing that rather than  taking Uber rides. If we start at 6am or very soon thereafter, we might be able to arrive before the temperature reaches 30°C; and there appears to be at least one place to rest and take a coffee en route. So: wish us luck. I’ll report back. If I’m spared.

 

 

 

Day 8 Part 1 – Leaving Vila Nova da Barquinha

3 Replies

Friday 4 September 2026 – Another day, another Uber. The forecast was unchanged – a very warm (30°C, cloudy and humid) day was in prospect. With a 23km walk, meaning at least 6 hours and probably seven on the road, and an elevation profile like this

helped us decide on taking a ride to our next destination, Tomar. Not therefore having to get out at sparrowfart allowed us to take time to look round Vila Nova da Barquinha in more detail, seeking out the bits of street art which were within walking distance and revisiting the sculpture trail in the park that we’d pottered around yesterday evening, to see things in decent light.

Barquinha (for such I’ll call it in the interests of brevity) is typical of our experience of Portugal so far – touches of great elegance against a backdrop of neglect. So, for example, some wonderful azulejos

but a badly-maintained backdrop.

One thing that looked in good nick was the bullring.

We saw from a poster by the railway station that a corrida was happening in a week’s time; whether this clean and tidy appearance was due to the imminent event or whether civic pride generally kept it looking nice we will never know. However, I happened to notice that one of the doors, the second one, labelled “Camarotes”

was open. So we looked in. It would appear that “Camarotes” means “Boxes” in the sense of privileged viewing places.

and we got a good view of the arena, which was being worked on, presumably, again, for the forthcoming festivities.

I had formed the impression (see the featured image for why) that the “Vila Nova” (“new town”) part of Barquinha’s name meant that it was only about a century old. Wrongly, as it turns out. It has a significant history stretching back centuries. Actually, the development of the region is strongly related to the Reconquista period, when the nearby river Tagus was the border between the dominions of Christians and Moors. In the 12th century, the defence of this border was in charge of the Knights Templar, who built several castles along the river. One of these is the Castle of Almourol, (which we didn’t get round to visiting for various reasons). At the end of the 13th century, when the Reconquista was finished, the importance of the castles of the region declined and the villages along the Tagus then became important riverside ports for the transport of agricultural goods of the region to Lisbon. There’s an azulejo in the riverside park about this.

Vila Nova da Barquinha was created in the 17th century around a fluvial port. In the 18th and 19th centuries the village became the most important in the region, and it was turned into the seat of the municipality in 1836. The history of the place explains the touches of elegance we saw as we walked around.

And it was quite a walk to the first street art installation,

tiling placed round what we think is (or was once) an electricity substation. The tiling was done by Manel Vieira in 2018, and it doesn’t look as if the building has had much TLC ever since, which is a shame. We pressed on, going back past the bullring and a tiled installation

which is apparently about 500 years of the Reformation in Europe. A tiling panel next to it dated it as 2017, but I couldn’t decipher the artist’s name.

We walked some way out of the centre of Barquinha and passed a mural that I’d actually noted on our ride into the town;

another piece that would have been impressive at the time but which looks very sad now. The same was true of the next instance we came to;

a further example of an attempt to prettify infrastructure which has been allowed to decay. The final piece on this part of the walkabout was an impressive work, once again using infrastructure as the canvas.

In it, the artist (whose name was not specified in the accompanying panel) expresses his concern about pollution in the Tagus River. (There was one more example of prettified infrastructure, which I’ll come to later.)

As we walked about, we noted that the mosaic pavements were decorated in a very specific pattern,

which Jane correctly identified as a small boat, which is, of course, how “Barquinha” translates into English. This was confirmed at the municipality offices.

The mosaic pavements stretched across much of our walk. We came across a couple of guys working on the maintenance of a section,

which makes one realise what a huge scope of work all of these pavements are.

Not everywhere is tatty. The sports pavilion is tidy and announces itself with great panache.

and many of the houses and apartments are in good shape.

We were struck by all the white space around

that was completely devoid of graffiti. Until we got to the station, that is.

I wonder whether there’s a specific anti-graffiti task force which keeps (almost) everything clean; it certainly makes a change from everywhere else we’ve been, where graffiti is depressingly ubiquitous.

On returning from the above peregrination, we walked around the park, where there is that other example I mentioned earlier, of an electricity substation that has been gussied up.

and we walked past the various sculptures beside the paths in the park.

“Rotter” – a representation of a wicker basket used in fishing in the Algarve
“House in the Sky” – industrial storage boxes used to build a prefab
“Line of Earth and River” – in polished and brushed stainless steel
Untitled – actually four tall steel mirrors, turning the garden into a stage
“Contramundo” – artistic tosh in the description of this trilobite
“Square house with tree inside”. Nuff said
“Castle” was once in yellow granite
“Concrete Poem”
“Irrigation”
“Over the forest” inspired by a mandala

As well as all the above slightly pretentious stuff, there were a couple of rotating disks, one of which gave a very compelling illusion.

 

The park was opened in 2005 and the sculpture trail inaugurated in 2012. The building decorations seem to date from around 2017 or 2018, so it’s clear that sporadic efforts have been made to bring art into the public spaces. It’s just a shame that, having done this good work, so much of it has been left to decay.

The café in the park got some more of our business after all that walking, and then we whistled up an Uber to take us on to Tomar, where we have a rest day. (Well, I suppose you could call today and the preceding couple of days “rest days” since we didn’t actually walk any of the Caminho. But we have walked a bit – today’s wandering round Barquinha was a 7km path, so we haven’t been entirely idle.) Tomar has significant historical and cultural significance and so I’ll deal with it in subsequent entries.