When I moved in here in the autumn of 2011, a friend who came across my 'current city' status on Facebook exclaimed 'It sounds like you live in a place that belongs to the Lord of the Rings trilogy! How is it pronounced?'
Guimarães (pronounced Gi-ma-ra-yesh) is a little city in the north of Portugal. Unheard of to most foreigners, it is suggested as a quick half- day stop to tourists visiting this country. Apart from being termed 'the birthplace of Portugal', and being an integral part of an eventful history, Guimarães also has a well- preserved historic centre that was declared a world heritage site by UNESCO in 2001. Walking past the narrow, quaint lanes always makes me feel like I have been transported to a medieval past. One too many times, I have paused amidst these surreal avenues to convince myself that I am not dreaming. In the summer time, the rows of cafes that line these streets are brimming with lively people and the smell of fresh coffee.
No matter where you are in Guimarães, you will notice Mount Penha in the distance, which is about seven kilometres from the city. A cable car operates from the city centre all the way to the top. For those in the mood for physical activity, winding roads interspersed with enjoyable picnic spots provide for an interesting hike, ultimately leading to a panoramic view of the entire city.
Guimarães' castle dates back to the 10th century, and has an imposing statue of Afonso Henriques, claimed to be the first king of independent Portugal, at its entrance. The castle, for a myriad of reasons, is the first of many things to see in Guimarães. Its history is intertwined with that of the nation's, and its strategic central location in the city makes for ideal tourist activity.
A Portuguese friend once warned me 'Do not ever walk around Guimarães with a jersey apart from their own. You'll come back home with a broken nose.' This was the first of many bizarre trysts I have had with football in Guimarães. Unable to comprehend such fanaticism, I said 'But it's just a sport!'. 'It's not "just a sport", it's FOOTBALL!', he retorted. Such fine advice instantly changed a prior notion I had about football mania being analogous to the average Indian's cricket craze. The sport is the only reason I've seen these peaceful, friendly people raise their voice or create a hullabaloo. Football is being aired all the time, in every cafe and store in the city, and it is a common sight to come across Portuguese males of a diverse age group, packed in a tiny cafe, gaping at the telly, and screaming their hearts out. The people's patriotism for the local club, Vitoria de Guimarães, is quite spectacular. Ardent supporters till the very end, they are quick to forget Vitoria's failures, and they always return to cheer their team with a new- found vigour.
The Portuguese are very proud of their 'bacalhau' (codfish) and one of the first things I heard after moving here was the number of different ways that it can be cooked. It was to my friends' utmost disappointment that I disliked bacalhau. After being forced to try different types on several occasions, a few Portuguese have come to terms with the fact that I dislike fish. And so, while declining offers to eat bacalhau, I now also diplomatically add that I don't mean to offend them, and though it may be delicious, I have never liked the flavour of fish.
Another unique trend among the people here is how they replace most punctuation marks with curse words. Foul words are part of their daily vocabulary, irrespective of emotion. It isn't a surprise then, that the handful of Portuguese words I now know are the nasty ones. Out of curiosity, I once asked a friend to translate a couple of words that he automatically blurted out. Put euphemistically, it was 'The female dog that gave rise to this piece of poo.'
Finally, I think life in any city is well spent when appropriate events come to mind as one walks past familiar surroundings. All the memories that have accumulated over the time I've spent here are what make Guimarães the city I now call home. Be it the good times spent with friends in Oliveira square, or catching a jazz concert in 'Casa Amarela' on a Saturday night, or the time a loud, noisy group of us ranted curses at the statue of Afonso at 2 AM, to the sunny afternoons spent in the city park reading a book, while ogling at ongoing aerobics classes, innumerable such moments come to mind. For being termed a quiet little city, Guimarães has so much to offer.
Be it the countless mornings spent walking to the University, past a picturesque view of the castle partially hidden among the clouds, or the warmth of a hot cup of tea on a rainy day with the view of the entire city from our apartment, Guimarães had made me look past mundane routine, to capture and welcome its simple pleasures. After living here for a year and a half, I can now say that it may not be right out of the LOTR, but with Guimarães, I have certainly had the chance to live in a fairy tale !
P.S. Credit for some of these beautiful photographs goes to an artistic flatmate.
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| Largo da Oliveira square |
No matter where you are in Guimarães, you will notice Mount Penha in the distance, which is about seven kilometres from the city. A cable car operates from the city centre all the way to the top. For those in the mood for physical activity, winding roads interspersed with enjoyable picnic spots provide for an interesting hike, ultimately leading to a panoramic view of the entire city.
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| The castle |
Guimarães' castle dates back to the 10th century, and has an imposing statue of Afonso Henriques, claimed to be the first king of independent Portugal, at its entrance. The castle, for a myriad of reasons, is the first of many things to see in Guimarães. Its history is intertwined with that of the nation's, and its strategic central location in the city makes for ideal tourist activity.
A Portuguese friend once warned me 'Do not ever walk around Guimarães with a jersey apart from their own. You'll come back home with a broken nose.' This was the first of many bizarre trysts I have had with football in Guimarães. Unable to comprehend such fanaticism, I said 'But it's just a sport!'. 'It's not "just a sport", it's FOOTBALL!', he retorted. Such fine advice instantly changed a prior notion I had about football mania being analogous to the average Indian's cricket craze. The sport is the only reason I've seen these peaceful, friendly people raise their voice or create a hullabaloo. Football is being aired all the time, in every cafe and store in the city, and it is a common sight to come across Portuguese males of a diverse age group, packed in a tiny cafe, gaping at the telly, and screaming their hearts out. The people's patriotism for the local club, Vitoria de Guimarães, is quite spectacular. Ardent supporters till the very end, they are quick to forget Vitoria's failures, and they always return to cheer their team with a new- found vigour.
The Portuguese are very proud of their 'bacalhau' (codfish) and one of the first things I heard after moving here was the number of different ways that it can be cooked. It was to my friends' utmost disappointment that I disliked bacalhau. After being forced to try different types on several occasions, a few Portuguese have come to terms with the fact that I dislike fish. And so, while declining offers to eat bacalhau, I now also diplomatically add that I don't mean to offend them, and though it may be delicious, I have never liked the flavour of fish.
Another unique trend among the people here is how they replace most punctuation marks with curse words. Foul words are part of their daily vocabulary, irrespective of emotion. It isn't a surprise then, that the handful of Portuguese words I now know are the nasty ones. Out of curiosity, I once asked a friend to translate a couple of words that he automatically blurted out. Put euphemistically, it was 'The female dog that gave rise to this piece of poo.'
Finally, I think life in any city is well spent when appropriate events come to mind as one walks past familiar surroundings. All the memories that have accumulated over the time I've spent here are what make Guimarães the city I now call home. Be it the good times spent with friends in Oliveira square, or catching a jazz concert in 'Casa Amarela' on a Saturday night, or the time a loud, noisy group of us ranted curses at the statue of Afonso at 2 AM, to the sunny afternoons spent in the city park reading a book, while ogling at ongoing aerobics classes, innumerable such moments come to mind. For being termed a quiet little city, Guimarães has so much to offer.
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| View of the castle, the chapel on Penha, and everything in between. |
P.S. Credit for some of these beautiful photographs goes to an artistic flatmate.
