Shipwrecked in Seixal
Day trip from Lisbon to Seixal, Setúbal
The promise of a visit to the stunning beaches of the Costa da Caparica was enough to persuade Her Ladyship to join Himself once again on the terrifying 10-minute ferry ride across the Tagus from Lisbon to Cacilhas. A bus from there took us to the other side of the peninsula and to the glorious golden sands which appear to stretch as far as the eye can see.
The town of Caparica itself is pretty non-descript, but those views! That’s all that mattered for me. From this side of the bay there is a fantastic view of the Torre do Bugio lighthouse at the mouth of the estuary. What I’d give for a perch up there! The views of the Lisbon skyline from behind the Cristo Rei statue are a revelation too. But the best bit of all is simply the vast expanse of the ocean. Next stop America!
I was still dreaming about that outing when I heard the Oldies say ‘Next stop Seychelles!‘ Wow! We’re going to the Seychelles! I don’t believe it!
Damn. Don’t believe it. It’s just that weird Portuguese pronunciation again … we are actually going to Seixal (pronounced ‘say shall‘). Ok. Well, at least it means we get to travel across the Tagus again. I’m surprised Her Ladyship has agreed to another ferry trip so soon. This time the journey takes all of 20 minutes. Isn’t she brave!
When our ferry docked at Cais do Sodré in Lisbon it disgorged hundreds of commuters. What a great way to commute to work! Her Ladyship probably wouldn’t agree with me. She was looking decidedly nervous as she made her wobbly way up the ramp. His Lordship didn’t do much to reassure her either. As we and just seven other passengers were boarding I heard him remark ‘Well, if the ferry sinks now, at least the death toll will be low‘. I didn’t blame Herself for sinking her elbow into his ribs for that!
The striking thing about Seixal is how quiet it is, certainly in comparison to nearby Cacilhas and Almada. It’s a sleepy place with just a few locals going about their business at a very relaxed pace. But judging by the amount of building going on in the outskirts of town, this sleepy place is waking up big time. I can imagine that a lot of locals have realised that they can live a lot more cheaply over this side of the river than in Lisbon.
By all accounts, the old town centre has become the in place to be, with its wide choice of restaurants to lure the locals out in the evenings and at weekends. Many of the old houses in town are in a very delapidated state, but there are plenty of renovation projects underway.
At one point, a dapper gentleman in his eighties rushed over to the Oldies when he saw them looking at a disused industrial building. In typical Portuguese fashion, he went out of his way to explain the history of the former cork factory. It used to be the biggest employer in the town, he explained, but thousands of jobs were lost when this and other local industries closed down in the aftermath of the Carnation Revolution. He, like many others from the area had been forced to emigrate to find work abroad. Not unlike many an Irish family, most of his family is now living abroad, some as far away as Australia.
The shipbuilding industry was another casualty of those hard times. Which is a pity, as there certainly is a long history of shipbuilding in this area. In fact Her Ladyship‘s hero, Vasco da Gama, had his ships built in Seixal and he set out from here on his famous journey to India.
After all that loss of industry, it is no wonder the town is so run down. The riverfront promenade, however, has obviously been recently revamped and I thoroughly enjoyed our walk along the water. Along with all the wonderful birdlife, I spotted plenty of locals fishing or digging for fishing bait and clams out in the middle of the river at low tide. I also noticed some old tidal mills, as well as lovely traditional fishing boats, elaborately painted in vibrant colours. This poor old fishing vessel looked rather the worse for wear, however.
Although I was loath to leave the riverside, I did enjoy our little sidestep into the Quinta da Fidalga, one of the many estates owned by Lisbon aristocrats in the past. We had a cool stroll under the wisteria along the trellis walkways and came across some weird and wonderful shell mosaics and even a tidal lake in this strange and lovely garden.
I will spare you the details of the return ferry trip. Suffice to say that, unlike the wreck in Seixal our vessel survived, along with Her Ladyship. In fact, His Lordship was so impressed with her bravery, he presented her with a medal!
There was no medal for me, of course. But I think I should get one for coming up with this tongue twister: ‘Seixal’s no Seychelles, but Seamus sees seashells on Seixal’s seashore.‘
