The Monastery of Alcobaça was founded in 1153 by my ancestor, Afonso Henriques, the first king of Portugal. It was the first Gothic structure built in this country, and the enormity of the complex is impossible to describe. I spent the afternoon there yesterday, awed by not only the scale of the place, but the attention to detail — the carvings in every marbled doorway, arch and pillar; the statues of saints, kings, bishops and abbots; the elaborate tombs and the largest fireplace and chimney I’ve ever seen. What I always find myself thinking when visiting the old castles and convents of Portugal is how impressive they are, knowing they were built with none of the cranes and heavy equipment that sends towers hundreds of feet into the air in our own busy century. Every element, every stone, every detail was possible only through the most rigorous labor, and so many of them are connected to my ancestors, which always leaves me feeling more like I’m on pilgrimage than a visitor or idle tourist.
The Eternal Face of Inês de Castro
The Eternal Face of Inês de Castro
The Eternal Face of Inês de Castro
The Monastery of Alcobaça was founded in 1153 by my ancestor, Afonso Henriques, the first king of Portugal. It was the first Gothic structure built in this country, and the enormity of the complex is impossible to describe. I spent the afternoon there yesterday, awed by not only the scale of the place, but the attention to detail — the carvings in every marbled doorway, arch and pillar; the statues of saints, kings, bishops and abbots; the elaborate tombs and the largest fireplace and chimney I’ve ever seen. What I always find myself thinking when visiting the old castles and convents of Portugal is how impressive they are, knowing they were built with none of the cranes and heavy equipment that sends towers hundreds of feet into the air in our own busy century. Every element, every stone, every detail was possible only through the most rigorous labor, and so many of them are connected to my ancestors, which always leaves me feeling more like I’m on pilgrimage than a visitor or idle tourist.