Palácio de Estoi – my Portuguese Palace

January 7, 2017

As the booker of accommodation, there’s always a moment of panic when you arrive and it looks, well…. below your expectations. Like the time I booked an apartment in Hong Kong – which on arrival looked like it was about to collapse, with a tiny caged elevator that only took 2 people, and a hallway that smelt like cat food. However, luckily for us, the actual apartment was great! Phew.

We decided to go to Portugal, for just two days and one night. After we left Gibraltar, we travelled towards the Portuguese border. The river and an impressive suspension bridge marked the end of one country and the start of the next, as we travelled west into the setting sun. No passports were required. How am I ever going to fill up my passport if people won’t stamp it? Damn European Union.

I had already booked the hotel, several days before. I’m always a little dubious about places with great reviews – it’s like when everyone raves about a movie, and you’re so hyped up to see it, that it cannot possibly live up to your expectations. We arrived at dusk, travelling down a narrow country lane, with nothing but a few houses, and orchards (oranges and olives) for company. A simple sign with an arrow “Pousada Palácio de Estoi” was the only clue we were headed to a hotel, rather than a barn.

We parked in a cobbled car parking area, in front of a dusky pink building. There was no sign it was a hotel – no hotel name in lights, no recognisable branding, and only a handful of cars outside – plus we really were in the middle of nowhere. But everything changed once we walked inside.

Walking through this hotel was a little like Alice falling down the rabbit hole. It was nothing less than jaw-dropping wonderment. As it turns out, the building was once a famous 19th century Palace, and it’s been painstakingly restored to its former glory. And when I say glory – I mean GLORY.

The main floor rooms are ornate, with idyllic scenes painted on high ceilings, elaborate cornices, parquetry timber floors, chandeliers over 1m wide, gold gilt furniture, opulent mirrors at least 4m high – the pictures don’t do it justice. You need to stand in the space to fully appreciate the majesty. I’m speechless that something this beautiful exists, AND that you can stay in it, AND that it not expensive, about 115 Euro for the night.

Ross is impressed. He thinks I’m brilliant for finding such a place (who am I to argue?). He immediately books us in for another night. We are told we need to book for dinner, so we do (8.30pm). Ross asks about the dress code, and we are told ‘it’s casual’. However, in the luxuriant surroundings, I’m left wishing I had bought a full length gown, stilettos and a tiara (or two). Perhaps a day of shopping tomorrow will fix that.

In the gathering darkness, we wander through the historic terraced gardens, established in the 18th century. It’s wonderfully romantic, with the soft up-lights, rows of columns, fountains, rendered balustrades, statues, small garden belvederes and grottoes. Tiny mosaics features on the pathways, and many of the garden walls are decorated in elaborate blue and white tile panels. One thing I have learnt from this garden, is that you can never have too many statues!!