Sunny
days and balmy sea breezes are behind us, home as we are in Dordogne, where we
snuggle as close as possible to the glowing fire to ward away the chill.
Not
that it didn’t rain in Portugal - indeed, in our last days there the whole
country suffered fierce tempest winds that toppled trees, blew away roof tiles,
overturned cars.
Despite
the bad weather, we stopped overnight at a charming inn near Lamego (Casa dos Viscondes da Varzea) where its
vibrant owner, Maria, enveloped the two of us and Arcadio with such warm
welcomes that you might have thought us all old, dear friends.
Maria
and her husband rescued the house and grounds a few years ago, all in a ruined
state, and have managed in short order to turn the place into an elegant and
comfy retreat. Especially memorable was the dinner we were served in the
precise middle of a huge banquet table that usually seats twenty. There we
were, eying each other across a wide expanse of antique mahogany, with heirloom
silver and Chinese export china, tall candles twinkling around the room.
A
tour of the Solar Mateus the
following morning proved to be one of the highlights of the entire trip. I
don’t think either Francesco or I have ever seen such a beautiful manor house
and garden – the same that appears on the famed Rose Mateus label although the
estate itself is divorced from that particular wine and produces its own better
and more valuable varieties.
Still
the seat of its noble family (the Dukes of Albuquerque) after umpteen
generations, it is Portuguese baroque to the hilt. Yet despite the grand
architecture, each of its rooms retains a family feel – a house of comfort
rather than theatrical show, a house for living, a home.
Out
of doors, a series of boxwood parterres on varying levels are interconnected
with gravel walks, stone stairs, shady pergolas and – the masterpiece – an
ancient cedar tunnel that shrouds a long staircase descending to the vines.
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