The sun rose gently on Pensao Nova Sintra, waltzing through our cracked windows and filtering through the long drapes, over the off-white walls, and onto our twin beds. The little hotel on the hill (but in a valley) was a yellow beacon visible throughout our travels through Sintra.
As a renovated mansion, the Pensao held great charm in its traditional decoration but the true gem of our visit was the helpful staff. We were lucky to begin our days with a light continental breakfast of slightly sour rolls, prosciotto ham, mozzarella cheese, jelly, little pastries, and a variety of drinking options. Portugal is known for its pastelerias which sell a variety of snacks and coffees for all day lounging convenience but particularly for morning dining – no room for Starbucks here. Our hotel got its pastries delivered from one of these shops, and although I don’t know what the particular pastry was that I came to enjoy, I can say without a doubt that its name didn’t matter. It was for practical purposes an un-flattened snickerdoodle. Growing up I would make snickerdoodles with my mom or grandma and remember many a time making the little sugar dough balls, dipping them in cinnamon and sugar, and then flattening them with the bottom of a glass for baking. The Portuguese enjoy the same tastes but without the last step. These were a treat indeed, especially with coffee.
Sintra is a small town perched between Lisbon and the Atlantic Ocean which for thousands of years or more has been a point of interest for the peoples that battled for control of the land. Today, its winding streets of mosaic stone squares connect the otherwise distinct worlds created by prolific greenery, a steep landscape, and the remnants of generations of living. The stones and alleys create a reality that you think only exists in mythic recreations of past times but which are adapted for modern living by current inhabitants. We spent our first afternoon and evening in Sintra wondering up and down streets and alleys and pondering the possibilities of the past and future of each seemingly abandoned building we passed. As lovers of antiquities and grandeur, it is tempting to follow the path set for in Under the Tuscan Sun (book and movie – must see title), but what would we do with a villa in Sintra?
Carriages are not the common means of transport anymore but remain for nostalgia.
A Sintra alley.
If you look closely you can make out a castle on the hill above Sintra.
Painted tile from the outside of a house next to our hotel. Very common in Portugal.
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