1) Into each vacation laundry must fall. Monday being the traditional wash day, and having accumulated a backpack full of dirty clothes, I set off for the nearby lavanderia down a nearby flight of stairs and a sloping cobblestone street. This had the best view of any laundromat I have ever visited.
I’ll bet your laundry room/laundromat doesn’t have a view like this!
2) Mother always said “The Lord provides,” and today that was the presence of an English-speaking man who knew how to use the machines. (Proof that Mother was looking out for me; she was very particular about her laundry.) Like the little lavanderias I remembered from Spain and Malta in ’22, these were operated from a central panel where you pay your money (or use a loyalty card) and select your machine (after you have loaded it). But they missed specifying the step “Press enter” after entering your machine number.
2a) Please note: the soap is already in the machine. It doesn’t say that anywhere either.
I would totally have this at home.
3) That took care of the morning. Instead of lunch, I decided to return to the botanical garden and see it at my leisure. Of course the formal garden was my favorite, with its central fountain covered with little green plants, but I also went strolling through the forest of gigantic bamboo. There I found a small shrine to St. Benedict and, further on, some leftover stone work from who knows what sort of building.
3a) This entire garden is a space that invites contemplation. And that was helpful to me.
Queen Saint Elizabeth kept me company for a time.
4) And this spirit of contemplation followed me to my next destination, the Sé Velha, Coimbra’s Old Cathedral. I sat near a large portrait of Queen Saint Elizabeth with her skirt full of roses and thought about the Big Issues. This church -- somehow there was a balance between tourism and prayer, more so than at other churches I’ve visited.
FLAMING!
4a) This church is proud to possess the “Largest Flaming Gothic Altarpiece in Portugal,” and now I want a drag movement or a punk band or a comedy troupe called Flaming Gothic Altarpiece.
4b) I nearly missed visiting this church’s sunny cloister. It’s too bad they don’t grow a border of herbs somewhere in it.
Clearly painted by Jackson Pollock.
5) Walking down more stairs to my next destination, I was distracted by a sign that said Casa de Escrita, “Writing House.” “Well!” I said to myself. “Maybe they have stationery, and my pen just died this morning anyway.” Trudging up the narrow street, no such thing revealed itself, but I did encounter a fado school, a couple important façades, and the sounds of many children playing in a hidden nearby courtyard.
Well, maybe it’s the Sé Velha. But if it isn’t, it ought to be.
6) The Church of Santa Cruz at the end of the tourist main drag in the old town features the tombs of the first two kings of Portugal. Its church is slathered with azulejos, and the pews are numbered with numbers carved in the stone floor. After a moment I went through to the sacristy and paid my money to tour the rest of the church: the sacristy and its treasures, the chapter room, cloister (with a view of the Sé Velha), and up infinite stairs, the elaborate choir room. My feet were feeling the day as I came back downstairs, but there was one room left, a sanctuary on an upper floor. I nearly passed, but I walked down the corridor above the cloister and up another flight of stairs.
6a) And I entered the most beautiful room I have seen in my life.
6b) When I was four years old I dreamed that I was in a secret balcony above the balcony of our church, First Methodist. This balcony ran around all four sides of the church, with white walls and high white windows, seating and dark purple/red carpet just like the real balcony. I remember it being very light in there, and having a talk with our associate pastor.
6c) That dream balcony came to mind instantly when I saw this upper sanctuary, a high white oval room with high-set windows, the whole ringed with altars and obelisks of gold, green, and red. What was it about this room that brought me back to that childhood dream? I think it must have been the spaciousness, the light, and the windows first, but also its sacred nature. I was awestruck.
6d) I had perhaps two minutes alone in this space. A couple was there when I arrived, and another couple came in not long after they left. But this was undoubtedly the richest experience I had in Coimbra.
7) At that point I needed to adjourn to the little café next door for refreshment, the Café Santa Cruz. IF YOU GO: Sit anywhere, it’s open seating. It’s a great Belle Epoque atmosphere.
Seen while I had lost my way, the sort of abandoned-looking house that makes you fantasize about moving overseas — and having staff renovate for you.
8) I left the Old Town at this point and almost right away found myself in the Real Coimbra (instead of Tourist Coimbra). It was a pleasure to walk down this street just because it was so flat. Eventually I had to turn right and go up, but this is how I got to see residential Coimbra -- part spruce, part scruffy, very little greenery, everything narrow but with much charm.
8a) Inevitably I got quite lost. The benefit was that I saw everyday Coimbra, particularly around the nursing school campus. But eventually I had to allow Gyygle Maps to see my exact location so I could just get home. I always avoid that -- don’t they know enough about me already?! -- but it just couldn’t be helped.
9) Back at the hotel and refreshed by a shower and change of clothes, I took a complimentary glass of wine up to the roof garden -- which was, in fact, exactly over my room. A small metal terrace with tables and chairs, the view commanded not only the river, but also the university library and courtyard.
9a) I exchanged a few pleasant words with a couple from Australia before I finished my wine and returned to my room. Remember this couple.
9b) After all that walking, it was beautiful to sit with my feet up and catch up on the news. At 7:30 I went down to dinner in the hotel courtyard -- and was seated next to the Australian couple. Now it’s not always easy to make conversation with strangers in close proximity while eating dinner, and not everyone likes it. And Mother taught me not to talk to strangers. But we three did fall into increasingly easy conversation on a wide range of topics, and I was very glad we were seated adjacent.
9c) For dinner I started with a Campari spritz and the burrata prosciutto salad, and then veal cheeks with a glass of red. The desserts on the menu didn’t appeal, so I brought a glass of port up to my room to enjoy with my chocolates while I packed.
10) My last day in Coimbra, overall, was domestic, contemplative, impressive, eye-opening, and exhausting. Not bad!