I’ve been a Christmas fugitive for most of my life. For many years I was quite happy to go travelling at this time of year and I’ve spent many Christmases in unusual places and in a very un-christmassy way.
Once I spent the whole day on trains from Austria to Holland. That was a true refugee’s Christmas, watching and meeting other people who have disconnected with tradition.
Having an entrenched routine with your with family at home you can easily forget how many people don’t actually celebrate Christmas at all. However, you’d be mistaken to think that in Non-Christian countries it’s business as usual. My Christmases in Egypt and Thailand, while not being normal, were not completely tinsel free.
But now, after three cold Christmases in a row I’m having saudades for home. For the heat, for the beach, for the sun, for the champagne of Christmas in Sydney. And of course, for my family and friends. Perhaps that’s the purpose of this winter solstice holiday – the deprivation of the cold makes you need the feasting and family hearth.
There are good things about Christmas over here, of course. Snow would be one consolation; Portuguese food traditions like leitão (suckling pig) and all the sweet things are good… and this: I love the christmas lighting in Portuguese tiny towns. Sydney’s bling, trees, santas and sprayed-on-snow never did a thing for me. Maybe because it’s light until 10pm there, and dark at 5pm here that some pretty supplementary light is welcome and charming. Maybe it’s the combination of old buildings and the slightly retro-looking motifs that suck me in. It helps put some cheer in my christmas gloom, anyway.
Most elevating of all are the funky recycled decorations in Figueiro Dos Vinhos. Sometimes recycled art just looks like a pile of rubbish. But someone has put some thought into these. They twinkle, glitter and shine just as they should. Or maybe it’s the spirit of the concept that gives them life.
From my point of view they are giving the finger to the climate change skeptics I’ve been tolerating this week. I realise they are stupid, illogical or simply deranged, but they still get my goat, because it’s my planet that they are advocating we ignore.
And here is this tiny little council, in the middle of an antiquated unfamous country, showing that they are enlightened, proactive and they care. And then it seems to me that the war on skepticism is already won. 
Email this post
Houses built: 0. Life Satisfaction Index: After opening at a record low following yesterday’s disastrous downturn, the index continued to lose points throughout morning trading. The market bottomed-out after midday and was then driven by a big-pharma, coffee, and sugar-fueled rally, settling again at the close of trading, in bed with the pets, a cup of tea and four pastries, at a comfortable 70.78%.
pão de ló from confeitaria santa luzia, Figueiró dos Vinhos
I had a migraine yesterday so I was very dubious about today to start with. Needing to get to the vege market by midday, I was up earlier than usual and trying to remove a motherload of firewood from the car, when it became bogged – for the second day in a row. And for the second day in a row I had to beg for help from the neighbour’s tractor. Just as well I’ve been helping with the olive picking, so I am up on favour credits; but is there any capable person out there who likes asking for help? It’s tough-chick torture, I tell you.
chocolate cups from Óbidos
And I hate being treated like an idiot. They just assume I’m a shit driver when they see the tragic position of the car. But these roads are not roads! Maybe you could persuade a donkey to walk them if you beat it enough, but the fact is, they are not meant for driving cars on.
For several moments this morning I was really hating my life and hating this Cu de Judas village. Very unhealthy, violent thoughts. Not good.
biscoitos from Felgueiras
So meanwhile I’m back to olive picking to pass the time and rack up more credits until the tractor is available, but without food or drink, the migraine is back with a vengeance. By the time we get the car out (and the market is closed) I’m so ill that I can’t bear being spoken to. I ignore being shouted at to come for lunch (they are one of these families where everyone shouts. I swear they are all deaf) and throw the dog in the car and get the hell out of there.
pasteis from Tentúgal, (but not pasteis de Tentúgal)
I’m already feeling better after the first coffee. Café Pingo Doce is filled with the smell of merendeiras (broa doce): small fruit buns like hot cross buns but heavier. They are traditional for All Saints Day (Nov 1) and apparently the porties take their All Saints seriously because there are boxed orders stacked up on every table. The merendeiras are coming straight out of the oven so I order three to take away… and they give me four… not sure if it’s because they know I love them, or because I look like I’m dying, or just because they’re nice people, but the random act of kindness was very welcome. Thanks Lucia & Fatima.
merendeiras; I like mine toasted with butter
Thus energised, I decide to visit the annual Feira Docaria Conventual in Figueiró dos Vinhos. There’s not really a huge doce tradition in this area, but they do have a convent which is only open for the Feira. Figueiró has adopted pão de ló (a light, vanilla, donut shaped cake) as their flagship doce conventual. Almonds, chila (from pumpkin) and doce de ovos are also very typical ingredients for the patisserie of this area.
The stands are very impressive this year, gorgeously arranged and full of hard-to-resist sweet things. They come from all around Central Portugal; from Tentúgal, Óbidos, Aveiro, Alcobaça, Felgueiras, Nelas and a local confeitaria that I’ve never noticed before. Happy about that. Must add to emergency contact list.
toucinho do céu
I bought a Papo D’Anjos (a small spongey blob made only of egg yolks, served in a sugar syrup sauce) and a slice of Bolo de Noz de Merengado. So now I have three boxes of goodies in my bag. Feeling good now.
And now for the convent. You just never know what’s behind these perfectly boringly rendered stone walls that you drive past every day. What a sublime little treasure the Convento de Nossa Senhora do Carmo is. Built in 1601, it has a feminine, delicately decorated chapel with half a cloister. Very charming, especially the blue timber pulpit and the azulejos in the church gallery.
O Convento de Nossa Senhora do Carmo
The convent was built on private property by a local noble. It was at certain times used as a hospital, a college of arts, the poor house and even a tiny branch of the philosphy school of the University of Coimbra. The ‘barefoot carmelite’ nuns were turfed out in 1834 when all the religious orders in Portugal were abolished, and the final tenants left in 1956. It may have been at this time that the property was divided and a high wall was built diagonally across the cloister. Nice bit of planning regulation, not. The convent and church were restored in 2000 and the building listed.
O Convento de Nossa Senhora do Carmo
Email this post
