Caldas Da Rainha, the Hot Springs of the Queen, is a classic spa town. Spa towns always hint at a 19th century grandeur,  where the monied would while away their days “taking the waters” and relaxing. These days the old spa towns are gracefully fading, and the ailing have moved on to detox and rehab. But the grand old hotels, gardens, tea rooms, and what used to be fashionable architecture, remain. Spa towns are quaint and gentle, and often very pretty. Caldas certainly is all of these things.

The Spa is a predominantly European phenomenon,  but Katoomba in the Blue Mountains outside of Sydney has exactly the personality I’m talking about. Cauterets in the French Pyrenees is a classic place,  and I’ve been to a wonderful old pool/spas in Berlin and Stockholm. Luso in Portugal is also a favourite town of mine here,  especially as the hospital-spa still offers many kinds of water treatments, like a “Vichy” hose down, steam inductions and a variety of strange massages.  I’ve met delightful spa town in the colonies too. Dalat in Vietnam is a charming 19th century gem and I would imagine there might be a few ex-spas in India.

One day I’d love to do a tour of the great spas of Europe. I’d start in Budapest, certainly the bath capital of the world, and move south seeking them out in Switzerland and Austria. You can never be too clean.

Anyway back to Caldas… the first stop should be the hospital itself, located in two lovely old buildings just down from the main square. At the back of the main building is the gorgeous Nossa Senhora do Pópulo, which has a fabulous bell tower, and where patients can go to bolster their faith in modern medicine. Opposite the church and beside one of the many lovely Manueline palacetes in the back streets of Caldas, is the Hospital Museum. I can never resist a hospital museum, and although there’s nothing much macabre about this one it certainly reinforces the image of an olde worlde cleanliness and some hysterical hypochondriasis… fainting spells and smelling salts and that sort of thing. Quaint, rather.

Of course it made me feel like a lie down in a cool room followed by a good professional pummelling by Irmã Perpétua (or whoever the Portuguese equivalent of Swedish Helga might be). But alas! Unlike at Luso, the hospital isn’t open to people just-chucking-a-sickie – and seriously Caldas CM -  this should change. Honestly they must have no idea how arduous being a tourist is and just how willingly we will shell out €15 to have someone in a white coat give us a rub down.

Actually it’s probably a good thing because there is really no time to waste if you want to see everything else that Caldas has got going on. The first thing you should start noticing is Caldas´ very special street signs. There aren’t many left these days so keep your eyes peeled, especially around the hospital area and along the park. The parque Dom Carlos I is gorgeous, with ponds and row boats and an excellent café/restaurant with loads of shaded outdoor seating. A wander around the José Malhoa Museum (naturalist / impressionist painter 1855-1933) inside the former park boat house is relaxing and mildly interesting. There’s also this enormous dilapidated building which they call the pavilões do parque, which appears to have been a former school. Stunning building, superb location and if this was Sydney it would have been turned into some seriously nice and expensive apartments by now. Looks like the pigeons will have it to themselves for a while longer.

Don’t let it get past midday or you’ll have missed the Caldas market. It’s on every day in Praça de Republica, right in the middle of things. It’s one of the nicest markets around, with the perfect balance of fresh veg, charcuterie, bread, sweets and stacks of different local handicrafts. But especially it has a spread of the famous ceramics of Caldas de Rainha. What you see at the market is not strictly Rafael Bordalo Pinheiro but it’s still fun and highly photogenic.

Just beside the market square is my favourite café in Caldas, Café Central.  Here is a café as we knew them in the old country, a place that does proper lunch, as in, light meals with salad. The food is inventive and wholesome and there is serious gelato and cakes too. But it’s the interior design that does me. Like the Brasileira in Braga, it’s like the owner (I don’t know her name but she’s always there and I want to be her when I grow up) has done the most restrained renovation possible, simply restoring the original design and adding a fresh coat of paint and some new chairs. It’s a rejuvenation of art deco/ mid century elegance. It looks modern and vintage at the same time. Thoroughly divine.

And right outside the café is one of those unique street signs. Cute. On the same side of the square is Residencial Central which is where I like to stay. It’s a big homey oldie of course, run by the super welcoming Diogo and Fatima who have three great girls. Watch Diogo or that welcome drink will end up with you under the table. It’s the kind of hotel I’d like to live in, and it felt like I did. Still a bargain at €20 single, €35 double.

But the real reason I visit Caldas so often is to catch up with my mate Rafael. Caldas is a good place to get to know him, first in the Museu de Ceramica where you can see his work in context with the other wacky ceramicists of the era. Then at the Bordalo factory there’s another little museum which explains more specifically about Rafael’s life in Caldas. After that you can lose a couple of hours in the shop where there are new editions of bizarre giant fish and crab artworks, fresh copies of large scale commissions, figurines and of course cabbage things in all colours. But what else the factory produces is some of the most lovely table china I’ve ever seen. Opulent, classic, whimsical. Oranges, rabbits and palm trees.  Funny and just pure elegance… and the most adorable little coffee cup sets in the world.

You’re bored? But there’s still the new cycling museum, Atelier-Museu António Duarte (1912-1998), some groovy Henry-Moore-like sculpture at Atelier-Museu João Fragoso (1913- 2000), the Museu Barato Feyo and yet more 20th century art at O Espaço da Concas. And a bunch of small interesting shops. And Mango. But never mind,  you can always pop off to the beach at Foz de Arelho (20 minutes), a pleasant strip of golden sand and no swell to speak of, and if Caldas hasn’t tickled your cute inner pony enough you can clip clop up to Obidos (15 minutes) which will twee your tail off.

This is what I like about travelling. Sometimes you know what a place looks like beforehand, so when you see Santorini in its postcard blue-and-whiteness, the tourist in you is satisfied that you’ve come to the right place. Portugal is a bit more obscure for simple visual snapshots, but the tourist might cling to the same blue-and-white image that is typical for the Alentejo region, just as it is for Greek Islands, the Spanish coastline, villages in Tunis and innumerable other places in the Mediterranean.

But what the traveller is looking for is authenticity, something surprising or “undiscovered”. What is the “authentic” Portugal? Of course it’s a lot of things, and it can’t be reduced to a mere one-shot postcard. The Casas (and Aldeias) do Xisto are a humble and traditional housing style that I’ve never seen anywhere else in the world. I find them curious and charming: often hidden in forest or off the beaten track, they are like little hideouts of a closed community. So simple, and essential, like little caves. I like them so much I bought one.

7. Espigueiros do Minho

They are a bit of a grand statement just for storing corn, hey? Imaging having so much granite lying around that you can use it to build a mini-barn. Cool. The crosses are there to ward off evil locusts. The Minho (far north) landscape is wonderful in itself – a bit other-worldly, windblown and spooky. And then clusters of these funereal sarcophagi appear straight out of the middle ages, or outer space…

8. Elevador de Santa Justa (Lisbon)

It’s just a fancy ironwork folly really, but isn’t she sweet? Who better to inspire a landmark-just-for-the-sake-of-it than Monsieur Gustave Eiffel, of Tower fame. Although this lift was designed by a student of his, Gustave was responsible for three bridges in Portugal, in Porto, Viana and Caminho, and very nice they are too.

Technically speaking it’s not a folly, as the Santa Justa has a practical use: it saves you from the stairs between the Baixa and Chiado districts, and there’s also a café at the top.

9. Palácio Nacional de Pena (Sintra)

The National Palace of Pena is so Disneyland it’s hard to believe it’s a UNESCO world heritage site, and a national monument. It was built in the 19th Century as a summer house for the royal family, and they were personally involved in the design, so I figure they must have been a crazy and creative bunch. The style is called European Romanticism (this castle is considered the finest example of the Romantic Style in the world, in fact) and it certainly has a Bavarian Fairytale Castle feel. Romanticism is a mixture of styles: Manueline, Renaissance, Gothic, but what stands out to me is the Islamic influence. It’s so much fun, so camp, so extraordinary.

10. Azulejos

Probably Portugal’s greatest single contribution to world architecture are Azulejos, traditional Portuguese tiles. At one time Portuguese hand-painted tiles were exported to every corner of the globe and were considered the finest in the world. Certainly the Arabs are pretty keen on tiling too, but the Portuguese design and style is unique. Tiling is prominent all over the country, from delicately painted biblical or historical scenes to graphically coloured glazed and embossed, tiling is used on exteriors and interiors, on floors, walls and ceilings. The varieties are infinite.

OH NO! Already 10?!? But what about the Bolso do Porto, Alvaro Siza’s Museum of Contemporary Art, the Prague-like grand cafés of Lisbon and Porto, the restaurant Galeto, the Palácio do Buçaco…. can we make it a Top 100?

To conclude: Of course, I understand that Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder. Sure. Except the Beholder might need glasses.

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I was at a BBQ the other day and was asked to explain my reasons for coming to live in Portugal. The English host took offence that one of my reasons was the “great architecture”. “What architecture?” he blurted, revealing not just a strong opinion, but just how many drinks ahead of us he was.

So, just in case I’ve somehow come to live in Portugal under false pretences, let’s take a tour of those “foundations” I mentioned…

1. Gare do Oriente (Lisbon)

One of the major train stations in Lisbon. Its audaciousness reminds me of the Opera House in Sydney. Part space ship, part electric tree…and if train stations are your thing then feast your eyes on the restored 19th Century Neo-Manueline Rossio Station in Lisbon and the extraordinary tiled history of São Bento in Porto.

2. Avenida Infante Santo (Lisbon)

This particular street is just one example of the juxtaposition of architectural styles in Lisbon. New-Old, Ornate-Modern, Renovated-Dilapidated. It’s a funky, bold, exuberant city. Lisbon was completely flattened by an earthquake in 1755, and much like many modern European cities it’s a mish-mash of styles and additions from the 18th-21st centuries. Lisbon just pumps with character, wherever you go, as every little neighbourhood has it’s own fierce personality.

3. Churches of Bom Jesus de Monte (Braga) and Santa Maria (Obidos).

Yeah I know, it’s two, but they are examples of the same thing. Small, not particularly significant churches with super-sublime decoration. Santa Maria is Baroque and 18th Century, and Bom Jesus Neoclassical and 19th Century. But what they have in common is almost every interior surface is decorated. You might think that the effect would be gaudy but it’s elegant and lovely. Multiple patterns against pattern, it makes me speculate whether the harmony is inspired by genius or created by pure chance.

4. Mosteiro Santa Maria da Vitoria (Batalha)

She rises from a boring landscape like a gigantic hairy spider; this monastery is so much in contrast to the environment that it seems alive. It’s a radical, fantastic building that reminds me of the audacious Sagrada Familia in Barcelona. Except Vitoria was built in the 14th and 15th centuries (and the Sagrada still isn’t finished). It’s sharp and scary from the Gothic Style, and it’s curly and knotted in the Manueline Style. The interior is just gob smacking. Full on.

As a whole, it seems an imposing, serious building, but one of the secrets of Portuguese Ecclesial architecture is the funny little details. The stonework is full of cheeky little critters, alien faces and naughty mythical beasties. It’s playful. So un-churchy!

5. Kitchen at Alcobaça
The Mosteiro Santa Maria da Alcobaça is, like Batalha, an UNESCO world heritage site, and is also an awesome piece of work. My favourite bit is the kitchen, very simply finished with grey/white fired glass tiles and trimmed with blue and white azulejos. It has a elegant Moorish quality with long curved lines and an infinite ceiling.

The Cistercian monks who lived in the monastery and were famous for their culinary decadence. A stream from the local river diverts into a pool in the kitchen, providing a water supply but also fresh fish! The massive fireplace and chimney could cook a small herd of cows.

Attitude is a Portuguese interior design mag with just the perfect balance of international going-on and Portuguese pride. I love how they also love all the “design classic” Portuguese grocery products with original packaging. In general, the Portuguese don’t have much appreciation of their own 20th century pop culture. “Saudades” and nostalgia clearly aren’t the same thing.

And apparently, Portugal didn’t have much of a “mid-century modern” interior design boom, like the rest of Europe had. As far as I can see, there were no Portuguese Eames, no Panton, no Saarinen, or Jacobsen. Which is surprising (if it turns out to be true) given the great architecture that Portugal produced over the last century.

Anyway, back to the shop – it’s called Moveis Tralhão and it’s in Soure which is about an hour away from here. I feel like making it my regular Saturday outing, but I worried I’ve already made myself known by lurking around the place like a furniture pervert.

The curious thing about this ‘shop’ is that it’s also a design studio, ie, an architect’s office, and there are no definite divisions between the showroom and the workspace. Stray off course and you could be admiring someone’s in-tray.

It’s a big showroom, over several confusing levels, so they’ve got tonnes of stuff to drool over that I hardly know where to start. Much of the stock comes from Amsterdam, from Moooi (check out the red sofa below) and Droog. Arper, Kartell (plastic tables above right) and Edra (beautiful chair above left) from Italy are also there, and I saw the Eames Chair & Ottoman (can you have a design store without one?) from Vitra in Switzerland. There are yummy decorations and lights by Artecnica and Flos.

Plus, there’s all the in-house designs, by ipotz. I saw a handsome set of Lloyd Wright/Mackintosh-like dining chairs designed by Ricardo Tralhão. Really nice.

Oh I almost forgot – I saw this table which I really really like. It’s designed by an English guy called Tom Dixon who I’ve never heard of before. I’m picturing it next to a grey Moooi lounge in front of the fireplace…

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