Traveling the Side Roads

by Barbara Benjamin

People travel for many reasons: to get away from the routines of daily life; to face a new challenge, to see new sights, or just to kick back and relax. I travel to experience new cultures, to come away knowing what it is like, day by day,  to live in a place I’ve never lived in before. So, when I travel, I always travel on the side roads.  Rather than booking accommodations at a travel agent’s favorite resort or hotel, I often land in another country I’m visiting without reservations, and, speaking to the airport cab driver or questioning some locals I meet on the road, I find out where I can rent a house.  Occasionally, I am able to find a house far away from the tourist areas  that is advertised in my hometown newspaper or on the Internet, and I can book in advance.   

Once I find my temporary new home, whether a cottage in the tropics of Jamaica, West Indies, or North Wales or a pre-Revolutionary farmhouse in Downeast, Maine,  I begin my adventure of setting up my new household, shopping in the local markets, cooking the local meals, conversing with the local people, and attending the local church.  Mingling with my new neighbors in this way, I often make friends and have the good fortune to be invited into their homes for lunch or afternoon tea.  That’s when I really learn what it would be like to live in the place I’m visiting, as my new friends enthusiastically share stories about their lives, all the latest town gossip,  and their secret recipes for national dishes. I should explain that, whenever possible, one of my first purchases is always a local cookbook, and I often learn more remarkable information about the people I am living among from their cookbooks than from all the history and guidebooks available.  

Traveling this way, I always have a  chance to observe the demographics of the culture, the rhythms and mores of  diverse people in the region I’m visiting, and, unfortunately, the inescapable and ever-present antagonism that exists between different groups of people within a single culture and between cultures.  No matter how majestic and serene the snow-capped peaks or how deep and placid the waters that mark the landscape, there is always an underlying tension between the diverse groups of people who live there.  Like the tension created by the tectonic plates that rub against or move away from each other under the earth’s surface, the people in every culture rub against each other and move away from each other,  often leading to violent social eruptions. 

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On the German Relic Trail

words + photos by Rachel Dickinson

This summer while on a pilgrimage of sorts to Germany to see several Women’s World Cup soccer matches, I stumbled across something that kept me dipping into every cathedral in every town I visited. I discovered the appeal of the relic.

St. Kilian's reliquary holding his bones in a little side chapelI am not, and have never been, a devout anything. So it’s not like I was an active or even a lapsed Catholic who knew how to behave properly in a cathedral – who knew not to ooo and ahhh over the bones and bits of cloth displayed for the world to see. Instead, I was the overweight woman on the wrong side of fifty who had experienced the hellish spring. Everything you don’t want to have happen, happened to me in the spring. My mother died. My mother-in-law died. My kid went into the psych ward for a week. And, finally, menopause struck with a vengence leaving me red-faced and sweating profusely and not sleeping at night. In other words, I was the perfect vessel for any kind of religious enthusiasm that would take me out of my own head.

I caught my first glimpse of relics in Cologne cathedral. This over-sized Gothic structure with a façade too great to capture in my camera had a gold reliquary the size of a child’s toy chest encased in a plexi-glass box that sat behind the altar so the congregation could gaze upon its wonderfulness during a service. It held the bones and some clothing of the Three Magi, which were brought to Cologne from Milan in the 12^th century by Holy Roman Emperor Frederick I Barbarossa as part of the spoils of war. I stood and stared at the gold box and kept thinking about every image I had ever seen of the Three Kings – and I realized I didn’t know anything about what happened to them after showing up in the manger with gifts in hand – and then I felt dumbstruck. And I kept tripping over details like – did they die at the same time and that’s why their bones are together or did they wait for the last Magi to die and then they sealed up the box and in essence wrote, “This is It – The Three Kings” on the cover? I mean, how did anyone know these were the right bones?

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Portugal: Pack Your Appetite

by Ellen Barone

[this is the final article in our SPOTLIGHT ON PORTUGAL series this week... ]

When the only vices of a place involve food and wine, booking a flight is a no-brainer according to my travel rules. Throw in sandy beaches, cultural riches, mild climate, a lost-in-time pace of life, and an inexpensive cost of living, and you won me over, Portugal.

On a recent visit to the northern wine country, I spent four delicious days table-hopping from hearty lunches, rustic meals featuring unpretentious fare and artisanal feasts prepared by innovative young chefs who bring a creative flare to traditional specialties. Each meal was paired with the region’s fresh, light, aromatic wines known collectively as Vinho Verdes.

In Porto, the Confeitaria do Bolháo (Rua Formosa 339) proves it doesn’t have to be expensive to be good. I’d wandered into the café for an espresso and to sit out an afternoon rain shower. But I quickly upgraded my order to the meal of choice among the elderly patrons in wool caps and sturdy shoes who packed the place. “Yes, it’s fantastic”, said the waiter, when I asked to have what the couple at the table beside me were so obviously enjoying – a plentiful plate of crispy sardines, crusty bread, a delicious stew of red beans and rice and a carafe of robust red wine. Total bill: 7-euros. Nice.

A perfect example of the region’s rustic fare is Restaurante Páteo das Figueiras (Rua do Além 257), a homey establishment near Braga which serves exquisite local cuisine family-style in a simple and cozy room. The caldierada, a stew consisting of a variety of fish and shellfish with potatoes, tomato and onion, scooped up with a garlicky bread, was delicious.

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The Spirit and Spirits of Portugal

by Judith Fein

[more from our SPOTLIGHT ON PORTUGAL series this week... ]

photo by erin-thérèse via flickr (common license)Do you believe in miracles? How else can you account for what happened in a field in central Portugal on May 13, 1917, when three shepherd children saw a vision of the Virgin Mary? Purportedly, she told the awe-struck kids that she would appear at the same spot on the l3th of the five following consecutive months. According to believers, up to 70,000 witnesses beheld a miraculous apparition on the 13th day of the last month. Go to Fatima yourself to see if you are uplifted, transported, or merely interested. It’s about one and a half hours from Lisbon by train. The three children are buried in the sanctuary, and in one outdoor area the faithful light long beeswax candles that intertwine as they melt and carry prayers to heaven. Be sure to visit the museum, where Marians from around the world—including Pope John Paul—have left objects that are precious and significant to them.  The latter even donated the bullet that was used by the man who tried to assassinate him. He believed that the Virgin of Fatima saved him.

Perhaps, while you’re in Portugal, you’ll want to find out about the secret Jews in the mountains of central Portugal who were forcibly converted to Catholicism during the Inquisition.  After half a millennium of hiding their identity, they finally came out. In Belmonte, where a museum tells the story and shows the artifacts, you’ll be swept into a world where people clung to their religion in the face of great danger and, in the end, faith triumphed over oppression. There is also a synagogue, and you may be fortunate enough to meet some of the Belmonte Jews. When they decided to publicly claim their heritage and faith—about twenty years ago-- the story captivated people round the world, and now Belmonte is one of the top stops in the region for visitors of all religions.

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Portuguese Royalty and My American Family

by Michael L. Soares    

[more from our SPOTLIGHT ON PORTUGAL series this week... ]

When I was a little boy, stories were told around the fireplace about ancestors who were Barons to the monarchy in Portugal and high magistrates to the Tudor monarchy. I always found this exciting and special.  I was also a bit skeptical as there were no documents to this effect --only antique photos that could have been gathered at any antique store. Over the years, I made some cursory searches on the web and obtained information about my father and his parents' origin, but nothing was certain, and I had a fair amount of doubt because we are a family known for telling good yarns or, to put it more bluntly, having a proclivity for embellishment. 

Night in Porto

In September 2009, I decided to do further research on the Portuguese family story to determine where legend and fact intersected. I contacted the Portuguese diplomatic office in Providence, RI and was directed to the Portuguese Consulate in New York. After explaining my intent, I began to correspond with the most important contributor to this story, Miguel Carvalho. He was enthusiastic about my personal Portuguese project and we began to work with the scant information I had-- the surname Soares, the City of Porto and the legend of a family connection to the wine trade. Soon afterwards, I received an email from a history professor from Porto named Gaspar Pereira. He was generous with his research finding that, in 1780, there was a business concern called Soares & Irmao (brother) LLC, and that the business was comprised of two brothers-- Jacquin Manoel Soares and Jose Henrique Soares. Jose Henrique Soares was awarded peerage as the Baron of Ancede by Queen Maria II da Gloria in 1842.  

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Portugal In Pictures

by Paul Ross

[more from our SPOTLIGHT ON PORTUGAL series this week... ]

Discover Portugal with writer/photographer Paul Ross. Taste the wine. See the sites. Meet the people. Experience the history. (All virtual, of course) It's the next best thing to being there!

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Video may take time to buffer. Please be patient, it's worth it!

 Paul Ross is a Santa Fe-based photographer and writer. See more of his work at www.globaladventure.us.