Victoria's Voyage

On Sunday, my parents and I arrived in Portugal. Leaving from the sleepy village of Chada Nova where our tale would begin, we started early the following morning, taking on the long journey via trains to the gorgeous coastal town of Sintra.

My first impressions of this tourist hot-spot were mixed. On the one hand, the place looked like something from a postcard, but on the other? Tour guides descended on us like hungry vultures, relentless in their pursuits of attention to get us the best deal on a tour we weren’t ready to take. Priority one – get the hell away from the station area.

From there, things soon began to settle, and we found ourselves winding idly through cobbled streets of steep ebbs and flows, the tourist buzz not entirely unbearable, despite all the people. Sandwiches, hot, on fresh bread, were on the menu for lunch at a quaint little Craft Collective, along with a much-needed soda to heal a drying throat and steadily burning calves. Then, finally, it was check-in time – an opportunity to offload our heavy bags.

Our accommodation for the night was a guesthouse called Palacio de Sintra, and it was beautiful if not a little overly-opulent. Each of the rooms is themed around a different Portugese monarch. Mine was King Diniz, and it was a simple but pretty affair, with an extra large bed, antique chest and rustic fireplace in the corner of the room. The house also has an open garden, and little treats at reception for you to help yourself to. The beds were super comfy too, which is always a bonus when you’re planning on doing A LOT of walking – which we did.

We had a little time to kill before our entry slot at the first palace of our visit, so it was back into town to seek out a bar for a quick cheeky drink. And well, bar we managed; quick we did not… We ordered some beers and lemonade and I have never seen such tall glasses anywhere. One of the beers also came in a massive tankard, far from the small, light bottles we were expecting. The problem? We had less than half an hour until our slot at this point, and there was a crazy amount of liquid on that table to consume in around half that time. Challenge accepted, though sadly – ultimately – failed.

The proceeding walk uphill was, consequently, rushed, and therefore left my quaking legs and tightened chest suggesting I might actually be dying. Ok, that’s maybe a bit dramatic, but it wasn’t easy either. As the road snaked up and up around a wide, sweeping bend, I began to wonder if we’d ever reach the entrance. But, finally, there it was, in all its glory. We’d made it. I flashed our tickets, trying to hide the heaviness of my breathing. The afternoon’s adventure had officially begun.

Quinta de Regaleira boasts stunning gothic architecture, sprawling gardens, watery grottos and plenty of hidden gems at every turn. The house was once owned by a large family, with 18 children, and it is rather grand inside, with handpainted wallpapers, intricate parquet flooring and fancy furnishings.

We started our tour though with even more upward climbing, towards the Initiation Well, an impressive affair that you can venture down into, before working your way back to the surface through a winding, pitch black grotto. The climb down was straightforward, a spiralling staircase that only started getting wet around halfway down. Not great for my trailing jumpsuit legs or decidedly not-waterproof shoes, but fitting given the nature of the structure. At the bottom, be sure to look back up to see how far you’ve really come and savour that last glimpse of daylight. Then get ready with your phone torch. Don’t crash into a jutting bit of rock sticking out from the wall like I did.

From Here, we took to exploring more of the gardens until we ended up at the actual palace itself. One standout part of the garden for me was the small lake, a picture of sheer beauty, especially beneath the late afternoon sun. All of it though was lovely. All that we saw, anyway. The patch of land is such an intricate maze that it’s hard to follow any map without doubling up on yourself time and time again.

Back in town, I enjoyed a simple steak and fries for dinner as the sun dipped and the chills began to tickle at my arms. A sign, we supposed, to head back to the room and rest up ready for another day of palace-hopping.