“The best ones are right under the rocks,” said Nuno Aramac, before slipping under the water like a seal. The two of us had swum to the base of a cliff where we were collecting goose barnacles. I say “we”, but it was actually Nuno who was doing all the work, scraping away at the rocks with a chisel-like tool, ducking and diving then popping back up waving a handful of strange sea creatures and grinning.
The spectacular stretch of Atlantic coast just north of Lisbon, with its rugged cliffs, crashing waves and near-empty stretches of sandy beach is famed for two things: surfing and seafood. The most-prized of the latter is the goose barnacle, beloved of food writers. “One of the most beautiful foods on the planet,” wrote Guardian food blogger Charlie Skelton,“the bright enamelled head with its ruby lips sits atop a snakeskin sleeve which pulls away to reveal a glossy, lucent finger of flesh, marbled and grey at the neck, bright orange at the tip.”
Sit on the terrace of any local eatery and order fish that was caught hours before, and cooked with just a splash of olive oil and lemon. The fact that you’ll end up paying about half what you would for a similar meal in the UK makes it all the sweeter.
I ate clams in white wine at the cafe on Adraga beach—said to be one of the most beautiful in Europe; worked my way through a platter of bass, bream, mussels and prawns at more upmarket Mar do Inferno, at the most westerly point of Europe; and, most memorably of all, tucked into giant scarlet shrimps at Azenhas do Mar, a restaurant set into the cliff in the village of the same name.
Having eaten my own body weight in seafood, it was only right to try the area’s other big draw: surfing. Nuno, my barnacle-picking guide, is also a talented surfer and agreed to give me a lesson. I met him and his family at their little house on Praia Grande, the largest beach on the Cascais-Sintra coast. The sea was unusually calm, perfect for a beginner like me, so after a quick rehearsal on the sand, we waded into the water. Suddenly the gentle waves seemed a little less so. And after 20 minutes of me battling through surf, only to come back to shore squealing while lying flat on the board, Nuno had some friendly advice:
“It’s much easier if you dive under like a fish, instead of fighting through them,” he said.
I’m sure he was right. Too bad we never found out. Feeling the rush of water over my head, as he encouraged me to duck beneath a wave, I panicked and accidentally headbutted him. The lesson ended there, with poor Nuno joking that I’d changed his profile and me fearing I’d broken his nose.
In this region north of Lisbon, the coast is only half the story, though. The Sintra-Cascais natural park extends inland, encompassing sand dunes, vineyards, wooded hillsides and, at its centre, the town of Sintra.
One of the oldest properties in town (an estate dating back to the 12th century) is now occupied by a most unusual hostel, the Almaa. The Almaa’s rooms are Spartan-inspired and its dark corridors have a touch of Scooby-Doo spookiness, but the nine acres of garden and the old stone reservoir-turned-natural swimming pool are lovely. And manager Joao de Mello, who runs the place as sustainably as possible on a shoestring, is a mine of information. It was Joao who arranged my surf lesson and also introduced me to local guide Maria Joao Martinho.
Leaving the hostel, Maria took me first to the Neolithic ruins of Adrenunes, hidden down an overgrown track. Once a sacred site, they offer 360-degree views of countryside, coast and, in the distance, Cascais and Lisbon.
In the mid-19th century, King Fernando II built his own summer palace, he named Pena, on the highest point of Sintra. Incorporating a 16th-century convent, the palace clashes Turkish-style domes with gothic facades.
Pena is considered the finest example of Portuguese romanticism, but it’s not the only wildly extravagant residence around here. A long line of well-travelled nobles and wealthy businessmen made Sintra their home so, in just a few square miles, you find an astonishing mishmash of styles.
The layers of history, the fairytale woods and winding forest roads lined with ancient fountains and chapels give Sintra a magical quality which is still attracting creatives, be they millionaires looking to convert a quinta or penniless artists like the woodworker Jo?o introduced me to, who is living in the forest as he builds an intricate wooden sculpture inside the crumbling walls of an old bottled-water plant.
Even in the town itself, you sense this alternative vibe. Café Saudade, a former cake factory on Avenida Miguel Bombarda, serves as a creative hub, offering free concerts, exhibitions by local artists and even a knitting club. Restaurant A Raposa looks more film set than dining room, with its petal-strewn central table, hand-painted ceiling and lace place settings.
A certain eccentricity was tangible too at the second place I stayed: The House of the She Pine Tree, eight miles outside Sintra. Run by the d’E?a Leal family, who trace their roots to the founding of Portugal, She Pine Tree is part-guesthouse, part-museum devoted to the owner’s father, Olavo Correia Leite d’E?a Leal, who was, in the words of his son Tomaz, who now runs the house, “a scandalous dandy, a provocative wit, a shocking bohemian”, not to mention painter, poet and playwright who had six children with three wives and a successful career in advertising.
His son, Tomaz, is the perfect host, insisting guests help themselves to G&Ts from the honesty bar and make themselves at home on the well-worn sofa while he tells tales of his flamboyant father.
And when your brain is full of stories of Sintra and its people, just a few miles away, a blast of Atlantic sea air on an empty beach will clear your head and make your time in that mysterious town seem like a dream.
“最好的都在巖石下面呢?!迸Z·阿拉馬克說完,就像海豹似的一頭扎進了水里。我們兩人已經(jīng)游到了懸崖腳,在那兒撿鵝頸藤壺。雖然我說“我們”,但其實是努諾自己做完了所有的工作,他拿一個鑿子似的工具刮下巖石上的鵝頸藤壺,鉆到水下潛游,然后突然抓著一大把奇異的海洋生物冒出頭來,咧開嘴笑著。
里斯本北面壯麗的大西洋海岸有著崎嶇的懸崖、洶涌的浪濤和空曠的沙灘,還因兩樣東西而名揚天下:沖浪和海鮮。鵝頸藤壺是海鮮中的珍品,是美食評論家的心頭之愛?!缎l(wèi)報》的美食博主查理·斯凱爾頓寫道:“鵝頸藤壺是這個星球上最美麗的食物之一,琺瑯質(zhì)感的亮色頭部,寶石紅的邊緣,下面是蛇皮質(zhì)感的筒套,剝開之后,露出光滑透明的觸手,頸部為灰色,帶有大理石的紋理,尖端是鮮橘色。”
任意坐在一家當?shù)匦〔宛^的陽臺上,點上一味幾個小時前剛捕捉的、加以橄欖油和檸檬烹煮而成的魚。而最后付款時只需在英國享用差不多一頓飯的一半價錢,不禁讓人感覺食物更美味了。
阿德拉加海灘據(jù)說是歐洲最美的海灘之一,我在那兒的一家咖啡館吃了蛤蜊,配以白葡萄酒;在歐洲最西端(羅卡角)更高檔的“地獄之?!辈蛷d努力消滅了一大盤鱸魚、海鯉、貽貝和對蝦;而最難忘的是,在阿澤尼亞什濱海漁村的同名懸崖餐館里狂吃緋紅大蝦。
吃過了和我體重相等的海鮮以后,去嘗試一下當?shù)氐牧硪淮筇厣珳蕸]錯:沖浪。我的鵝頸藤壺捕撈向?qū)Z也是個沖浪能手,他答應教我沖浪。我和他還有他的家人們在大普拉亞海灘上他們的小房子里見面,大普拉亞是卡斯凱什至辛特拉沿岸最大的海灘。海水異常平靜,對我這樣的初學者最好不過了,因此在沙灘上簡單演練過以后,我們淌進了水里。突然,柔和的浪花似乎變得沒那么平靜了。在我掙扎著沖浪20分鐘以后,終究還是回到了岸上,平躺在甲板上發(fā)牢騷。努諾溫和地建議:
“如果你像魚一樣潛到水下,而不是和海浪較勁兒,就會容易得多?!彼f道。
我肯定他是對的。很可惜當時我們沒想到這點。他鼓勵我扎進海浪中時,我感覺到海水劈頭蓋臉而來,就慌了,一不小心我的頭撞到了他,沖浪課就不得不到此為止了。倒霉的努諾開玩笑說我可能會毀了他的側(cè)臉輪廓,而我擔心他的鼻梁會被我撞斷了。
不過,在里斯本北部這個地區(qū),海岸并不是唯一的景色。辛特拉-卡斯凱什自然公園向內(nèi)陸延展,包含了沙丘、葡萄園、樹木茂盛的山坡和位于其中心的辛特拉鎮(zhèn)。
鎮(zhèn)上最古老的地方之一(一個12世紀時建的莊園)如今成了極不尋常的一家旅館——阿爾瑪旅館。該旅館的房間設計靈感來源于斯巴達式的簡樸風格,漆黑的走廊還有一點斯酷比狗式的驚悚,但九英畝的花園和由古老的石砌蓄水池自然形成的游泳池卻很美。勉強維持小本經(jīng)營的旅館經(jīng)理若昂·德·梅洛像是個活知識寶庫。是他給我安排的沖浪課程,還把當?shù)貙в维旣悂啞と舭骸ゑR爾提諾介紹給我認識。
離開旅館以后,瑪麗亞先帶我沿著一條掩映在莽莽草木之中的小路,前往阿得連努納什新石器時代遺址。該遺址曾是宗教圣地,在這兒可以把鄉(xiāng)村、海岸及遠處的卡斯凱什和里斯本的360度全景盡收眼底。
在19世紀中期,葡萄牙國王費爾南多二世在辛特拉的最高點建了他自己的夏季離宮,并將其命名為佩納宮。佩納宮把一所16世紀的女修道院也囊括其中,宮殿的土耳其式穹頂和哥特式外墻相得益彰。
佩納宮被認為是葡萄牙浪漫主義建筑的最佳典范,但它不是這兒唯一極盡奢華的宅邸。很多云游四海的貴族和富商也在辛特拉安家落戶,不出方圓幾英里,你便能找到風格混搭的建筑群。
厚重的歷史,童話仙境般的樹林和兩旁錯落排列著古代噴泉和小教堂的蜿蜒林中小路,都給予辛特拉一種魔幻色彩,如今還在吸引著創(chuàng)意設計人員,這些人當中有想前來建造鄉(xiāng)間別墅的百萬富翁,也有一文不名的藝術(shù)家——比如若昂介紹給我認識的一位木工藝家。他住在森林里,期間在桶裝水工廠的破敗圍墻里打造一件精致的雕塑。
即使是在鎮(zhèn)上,你也能感覺到與眾不同的氛圍?!皯雅f咖啡館”曾是米格爾·蓬巴達大道上的糕點工廠,如今是一個創(chuàng)意中心,當?shù)氐乃囆g(shù)家們在這舉辦免費的音樂會和展覽,甚至是開辦編織俱樂部?!袄晟蛷d”看起來更像是個攝影棚,餐廳中央的桌子上撒滿了花瓣,天花板是手繪的,而整套餐具都有蕾絲花邊裝飾。
在我的第二個留宿地點——距離辛特拉八英里的“雌松樹旅館”——也能實實在在地感受到某種古怪的氛圍。旅館由德艾薩·李爾家族經(jīng)營,這個家族的歷史和葡萄牙的建國史一樣悠久。它半是小型家庭旅館,半是老板的父親奧拉沃·科雷亞·萊特·德艾薩·李爾的個人博物館。奧拉沃在他兒子托馬士(現(xiàn)任旅館老板)的口中是“一個丟人的花花公子,愛抬杠的智者,令人咋舌的不羈文人”,更別提奧拉沃還是個畫家、詩人和編劇,還有六個孩子、三個妻子和成功的廣告事業(yè)了。
奧拉沃的兒子托馬士是個完美的房東,執(zhí)意讓客人在無人值守的酒吧里盡情地喝金湯尼酒,讓客人把旅館當做自己家一樣自在,坐在舊沙發(fā)上聽他講浮夸老爸的故事。
當你前行到幾英里之外,腦子里還裝滿了辛特拉的故事和居民們的影子,空曠的沙灘上吹來一陣大西洋的海風就能清空你的思緒,讓你感覺在這個神秘的鎮(zhèn)上度過的時光就像是一場夢。