Fatima Portugal holiday
diary and photographs of a budget, short-break vacation, prayer sheet, statute of our lady, message of Fatima, Jacinta, Francisco, Lucia, The Sanctuary, Fatima tourist information, this site is dedicated to obtaining justice for Erica and Eric Williams, Port Hope Simpson, Labrador, Newfoundland, Canada...http://porthopesimpson.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
Friday, March 17, 2006
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Dedication & Links
This site is dedicated to obtaining justice for Erica Anitoff Williams, four and a half years and her young father Arthur Eric Williams, 27 years who died in their Labrador Development Company home, Port Hope Simpson in acrimonious, suspicious circumstances in the early hours of 3 February 1940. The R.C.M.P (Royal Canadian Mounted Police) Serious Crimes Unit, Gander, Newfoundland have recently in 2002, opened up their own investigation about the deaths. If you know anything at all about what happened please do not hesitate in contacting your local RCMP detachment or the police force of jurisdiction in your area. If you live outside Canada, please contact your local police service and ask them to make a request for assistance from the appropriate Canadian law enforcement agency. The main RCMP website address is http:// www.rcmp.ca or Email me!
NAIN DIARY & EXTRACTS
HTTP://NAINDIARY.BLOGSPOT.COM
http://naindiarybaptism.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryboats.blogspot.com
http://naindiarychildren.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryfestivals.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryfishing.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryhunters.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryhuskies.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryicebreak-up.blogspot.com
http://naindiarymailboat.blogspot.com
http://naindiarymailplane.blogspot.com
http://naindiarymedley.blogspot.com
http://naindiarymission.blogspot.com
http://naindiarypeople.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryschool.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryscouts.blogspot.com
http://naindiarysportsday.blogspot.com
http://naindiaryviews.blogspot.com
http://naindiarywilderness.blogspot.com
HTTP://NAINREMEMBERED.BLOGSPOT.COM
http://battleharbour.blogspot.com
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http://capecharles.blogspot.com
http://cartwrightphotographs.blogspot.com
http://charlottetownphotographs.blogspot.com
http://davisinlet.blogspot.com
http://fishingshipsharbour.blogspot.com
http://foxharbour.blogspot.com
http://georgescove.blogspot.com
http://henleyharbour.blogspot.com
http://hopedale.blogspot.com
http://makkovik.blogspot.com
http://marysharbour.blogspot.com
http://mudlake.blogspot.com
http://nainphotographs.blogspot.com
http://north-westriver.blogspot.com
http://northwestislands.blogspot.com
http://paradiseriver.blogspot.com
http://pinsentsarm.blogspot.com
http://postville.blogspot.com
http://redbayphotographs.blogspot.com
http://rigolet.blogspot.com
http://squareislands.blogspot.com
http://williamsharbour.blogspot.com
HTTP://PORTHOPESIMPSON.BLOGSPOT.COMVOLUNTARY SERVICE OVERSEAS
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/porthopesimpson34_49
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/porthopesimpsondiary
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/porthopesimpsonflh
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/porthopesimpsonhist
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/porthopesimpsonsnaps
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/vsoinlabradorflh
http://porthopesimpsonchallenge.blogspot.com
http://porthopesimpsonclues.blogspot.com
http://porthopesimpsonsdevelopment.blogspot.com/including ORAL HISTORY as recalled by Mrs. Kathleen Mina Squire (formerly James, known as Bunty James) interviewee, who lived in Port Hope Simpson in 1935 as a guest of her life-long friend, Katie Doreen Williams, daughter of J. O. Williams. Interviewed by Llewelyn Pritchard in the company of John (grandson of J.O. Williams) and Sheila Illsley;11 January 2003
http://porthopesimpsondiary.blogspot.com
http://porthopesimpsonrighttothetop.blogspot.com/
http://porthopesimpsonwildbay.blogspot.com/
http://twounsolveddeaths.blogspot.com
http://vsoinlabradorarticles.blogspot.com
http://vsolabradorclues.blogspot.com
vso Canada
806-151 Slater Street, Ottawa, ON K1P 5H3 Canada
http://www.vsocan.org/
Phone Toll Free: 1 888 876-2911 Local phone: 613 234-1364 Fax: 613 234-1444
Contact: Kim Weatherall
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vso India
iVolunteer Overseas, D-134, 1st Floor, East of Kailash, New Delhi 110-065,India
http://www.ivoindia.org/
Phone/Fax: 91-11-26217460
Contact: Rahul Nainwal
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vso Ireland
Brunswick Street North, Dublin 7, Ireland
http://www.vso.org.uk Phone: +353(0)1872 7173
Contact: Carmichael Centre
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vso Kenya and Uganda (VSO Jitolee)
PO Box 49843-00100, Nairobi, Kenya
Phone:+254 2 575312/561603
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vso Netherlands
Oorsprongpark 7, 3581 ET Utrecht, Netherlands
http://www.vso.nl/
Phone: +31(0)30 23 20 600
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vso Philippines (VSO Bahaginan)
Unit 505 Pacific Corporate Center, 131 West Avenue, Quezon City, Philippines, 1105
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Phone:(63-2)3746450/3746452
Contact: Malou Juanito
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vso UK
317 Putney Bridge Road, London, SW15 2PN, United Kingdom
http://www.vso.org.uk
Phone: +44 (0)20 8780 7200
To receive instant information about volunteering:
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OTHER LINKS
http://biarritzfrance.blogspot.com
http://canada.gc.ca/
http://fatimaportugal.blogspot.com
http://genevaswitzerland.blogspot.com
http://majorcaspain.blogspot.com
http://malagatorremolinos.blogspot.com
http://mysite.wanadoo-members.co.uk/vsoinlabradorflh
http://nicefrance.blogspot.com
http://romeitaly.blogspot.com
http://veniceshortbreakvacation.blogspot.com/
http://www.gov.nf.ca/
http://www.heritage.nf.ca
http://www.hvgb.net/~themdays
http://www.labradorian.optipresspublishing.com/
http://www.labradorsociety.ncf.ca
http://www.labradorvirtualmuseum.ca/gallery/porthope2
http://www.mun.ca/labradorinstitute
http://www.nunatsiaq.com
http://www.nunatsiavut.com/en/nain.php
Map of the National Railway Network of Portugal; Caminhas de Ferro Portugueses, EP
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Monuments to be seen from the open-topped, double decker bus tour of Lisbon
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The Youth Hostel in Lisbon; Rua Andrade Corvo, No.46, 1170-016 Lisbon, Portugal
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The Youth Hostel room balconies in Oporto,looking out over the River Douro, The River of Gold;Rua Paulo da Gama, No 551, 4150-589 Porto, Portugal;
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Ribeira, Oporto, Portugal - walking along the cobbled, narrow, cool, life-on-the-streets felt like passing through people's living rooms. Wonderfully coloured and vibrant.
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centre: PONTE MARIA PIA; top left, clockwise: PONTE D'LUIS I; PONTE DO FREIXO; PONTE DE S, JAO; PONTE DA ARRABIDA;
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Monday, June 14, 2004
Day 1 Bristol, England to Faro, Portugal; Wednesday 25 July 2001
Bright sunny day, excellent departure from Bristol: very smooth, fantastic flight over, on time, snacks and drinks served, but delayed arrival of baggage and a hell of an "Eva" bus driver..."10 minutes for your next one" and off he went without picking anybody up...Eventually I was dropped off near to Hotel Ainacir, Faro (took about 20 mins from aeroport)into a physically jumbled urban environment - crowded, nice room with air conditioning at excellent value. Breakfast in four mins at 0730, trees look dead thirsty, massive thick palms, bath, bit of TV-lack of welfare care for elderly Germans in Majorca, couldn't find train station last night, problemo not speakee lingo.
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Day 2 Faro, Portugal; 26 July 2001
O730 great Continental breakfast after a long walk and swim... starving. Stashed two ham and cheese rolls from breakfast table for later in the day. Off to find train station and Monaco hotel. Found ancient, fake - looking medieval walled town and old narrow streets of Faro very interesting. One very ancient Moorish style antique shop (lots of Moorish influence in the town: in the architecture especially) was selling wonderfully patterned tiles. Harbour packed out with speedboats, on opposite side of railway line saltwater marshes and sandbars (with quite a lot of houses and facilities) give a lagoon-type environment. Loads of shell fish farming offshore. Modern type pedestrian shopping precinct in Faro. Airport located a few miles west of Faro on the coast. Confirmed seat train reservation for tomorrow where a beautiful Sonora, black hair, bright eyes girl who spoke English and kept on giggling for some reason or another.
Set off walking towards Montenegro few miles outside Faro to the Hotel Monaco. On arrival they said I hadn't been booked in for the night but my 31 August booking was fine! Great! Lounged in hotel bar, chatted with their sales manager and it turned out they didn't know that another (non - agent) company was using their name over the internet for reservations. They were pleased I had explained it to them. Therefore the Manager overturned the lad’s decision on Reception regarding my booking and gave me a room for the night. A few ice cold orange juices and a good swim later I walked into Faro.
It was all very interesting, vibrant colors everywhere but everything seemed so slow due to the heat I suppose. The men at work seemed to be not really working at all. A small pick - up truck had its offside, front wheel half way down a hole in a back street and water was gushing out everywhere nearby from a broken main. Water, water everywhere! It looked expensive water pouring down the street because everywhere is semi-arid.
Orange tiled roofs and white walls of boxy homes with lots of flat roof space as well. Walked all round in and out of Faro and then couldn't be bothered to wait for a bus so walked it back to Hotel Monaco on dirt track pavements. Had a few drinks and meal with ½ bottle of white, black and white olives, rolls, delicious thick vegetable soup followed by main course of two massive tastily battered pieces of hake with rice and peas plus light mayonnaise dressing on a lettuce leaf. A Best Ever Meal followed by fruit salad of small pieces of fresh apple, pear (don't usually like pear at all), orange, peach, banana and kiwi in their own light juice plus express coffee and a waitress who couldn't stop telling me all about Lucia of Fatima who is apparently only allowed to speak with the Pope - seemed weird if true. The total meal came to E 1.98 which was brilliant value for money. The foodstuffs in the shops are about half UK prices! Loads of small bars and restaurants all over the place, very touristy feel to the place. Great view over Faro from my 3rd floor bedroom window.
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Day 3 Faro to Opporto (Porto); 27 July 2001
Breakfast at 0730 of orange juice, cornflakes, two coffees, one roll with jam, very rich scrambled eggs plus couple of hot dog sausages. Stashed four rolls for nine and a half hour journey to Porto.
Checked out about 0900, waited only two mins. for a bus and straight into Faro. Walked to harbour from train station with a day to while away until the train departs. The heat was building up so I decided to chill out under a palm tree at harbourside.
Planes were landing at 1.37, 2.3 and 5.0 minute intervals. A beautiful cool breeze was drawn in over the harbour water as a big Portuguese lady sat down next to me. I think she was miffed I didn't get into conversation with her. All I wanted to do was unwind and relax.
The day passed quickly in Faro that has a sort of oldie worldee charm of its own if you get around the back streets.
Boarded "The Azul" train about middle of afternoon after been told at the train station that it would be a really quick and quiet journey!!! There were motor-rail carriages with loaded cars at the front of train. It reminded me so much of the "British Rail" service of about 20 years ago. Great fun! What a laugh! A Rock, Rattle and Roll of a wide carriage with plenty of leg room but absolutely bone rattling due to worn out or non existent suspension I guessed.
Bumpety bump, bumpety bump, bumpety bump, clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clack, woo woo - woo woo! Here in the middle of southern Portugal all aboard the Choimbra Azul Boneshaker. Soon leaving the underlying sandstone/marls/clays with their very dry, red, brown, thin, desperately poor soils and marginal land north of Faro. A true Mediterranean landscape of parched earth, stone-shredded soils, tufted with whitened grass, struggling, straggling hardy trees that looked like hawthorn and bushes. Some huge succulent cacti type plants were like the Maquis landscape of southern France. Scattered red tilled, white walled, old farm buildings without visible electricity lines. Many houses were often abandoned by the look of them. Then into a more welcoming landscape of hills and valleys with scattered, isolated-looking trees and fields of bright bright yellow sunflowers with heads either perkily raised or nodding to the hot sun over the sparsely populated agricultural Alentejo plains with its fields of what looked like cut grass. Hang on, what about the cork plantations that are supposed to be here? Many of the trees had lost their bark and were dying. marked out by crosses of white paint for the chop.
People on board the train were jabbering away in Portuguese as people do when you can't understand a single word of what they say. A busty girl was messing about with her luggage straps on the top shelf as the train was helter-skeltering along. A great distraction.
So, on The Wild West Train, with the metal jointing foot plates between the carriages clattering together, collected a triple decker stale, bread sandwich from the "buffet car"... two blokes working flat out serving meals, snacks and drinks at the same time. A cup of tea is "char" pronounced "shar". People were smoking in the eating area so I gave that a miss.
Soil north of Beja, about three and a half hours north of Faro was obviously more fertile with wheat already cut, loads more sunflower fields, lusher vegetation and healthier looking trees (less of the dreaded white cross.)
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Day 4 Opporto (Porto); 28 July 2001
It seemed an interminably long time to reach Porto Campanha station: where I eventually arrived at 1254, after ten and three quarter hours. The landscape became more and more prosperously industrialized approaching and north of Lisbon. I was only charged about E3.50 for a quite long taxi ride in a white Mercedes to the Youth Hostel. I collected my room key from a large security guy and was very pleased to find a nice, clean room with a little tilled veranda outside, white plastic table and chairs and a fabulous beautiful view over the wide River Douro, known as "The River of Gold".
Next morning I was off out too early to get breakfast. I reserved a seat to Fatima. Followed the River Douro all the way into central Porto, about five miles, under four staggeringly massive bridges, some with Civil Engineering Awards that were absolutely spectacular. I shall never forget seeing the Pont St Louis Bridge, about 300 feet above the water, swathed in early morning dense river mist. I could only see my side of the bridge clear of the swirling mists. It seemed as if nothing was holding the rest of it up!
Porto City is sprawled all along the banks of the wide Douro gorge. Port Wine lodges are all spread across the other side of the river but I preferred to explore through the old, narrow city cobbled streets where it was incredibly cool at the bottom of the banks of bright houses built on top of each other with their washing hanging out of small windows drying in the breezes. It felt like I was walking through people's living rooms as I walked through their streets. Past the odd dog and the many children running around on the steep slopes outside their homes. In between the people sitting on the steps of their front doors, or at their tables and chairs at bars, or selling souvenirs and clothing from the front of their small shops.
Many fishermen were seen along the walled, pavemented bank of the river but I only saw one tiddler that had been caught. Further downstream I wondered if that was because there were a large shoal of thousands of black looking fish climbing on top of fish, at an outfall into the main river, pressing close up against the river bank 30 feet below where I was standing. Absolutely mesmerizing.
I continued walking up along the streets up the sides of the gorge and back through Upper Porto and back to the hostel. I lived on two peaches, a few grapes and mineral water with a couple of small loaves of tasty currant bread. Fell asleep in the afternoon until about 1530 to find there was no evening meal on offer at the Hotel. Therefore I walked in the opposite direction downriver to the seaside where the "Festival de Carejes" was going on.
It was a great atmosphere with good music, fire eaters walking high on sticks, loads of "SuperBeck" being drunk, tall plastic columns of beer with their own tap set up at various tables from the beer stalls, fantastic variety of snacks available but I needed a nutritious meal so I found a small restaurant where I had a meal of Bacaurah from dried salted codfish. The trouble was that the fish hadn't been soaked long enough I guess. So it was very tough and also stone cold. All the vegetables with fresh pineapple for afters were delicious. Apparently there are 365 different ways to cook the dried salted codfish.
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The good Auberge de Jeunesse (Youth Hostel) where I stayed for one night in Opporto (Porto); 28 July 2001
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Day 5 Opporto to Fatima and visiting The Sanctuary on my friend's suggestion; 29 July 2001
0630 and off before breakfast. Caught a bus with a totally - mad - fast driver to Porto Campanha station who seemed to be testing out his brand new speed machine over quite a few cobbled roads! Good fun.
Wrote and posted postcards whilst waiting for the train to Fatima. It was a great smooth, comfortable ride. It turns out Fatima train station is 25 kms. from Fatima itself. So taxi ride it was, with, as it turned out, the father of the woman on Reception at the Hotel San Amaro. My business was of mutual benefit to them and no rip-off arrangement was in place. The ride was high up into the mountains with some marvellous dry stone walling holding back narrow terraces on some fields. A very beautiful farmed landscape all round. The air was very clear and there were a few sheep but nothing much else.
Simplicity is always best.
After booking in I took a walk to see The Sanctuary at long last. Walking down the very busy main road of Fatima, about 400 metres in length with many people walking, eating, drinking or buying souvenirs from the large number of souvenir shops. All the shops were sad places I thought as they go about making money from the site of The Apparitions. But it’s only to be expected I suppose. Just not my cup of tea that’s all.
The Sanctuary itself is not the small humble sort of place I imagined but more like part of an airport runway with a huge, highly impressive architectural building named The Basillica- at one end.
I just sat on one of the very long stone benches around the runway and soaked it all up. Too noisy. Yet signs say that Fatima is Quiet Place, a place of Silence! It was Sunday after all.
It was amazing to see people young, old and disabled walking on their knees or being helped the length of what I call the runway, along a marbled path, to and round the Chapel of Apparitions which marks the spot where Francisco, Lucinda and Jacinta apparently experienced the Virgin Mary speaking to them from a tree. Although it was only Lucinda who could hear what she was saying.
The tree has been long gone apparently due to souvenir hunters.
Within the Chapel is a marble plinth with a statute of the Virgin Mary on top - at the exact spot where she appeared to the children. Another large tree is now growing nearby. I stayed in The Chapel about 30 minutes about two metres from the statue of the Virgin Mary and said my prayers. I don't know how the priests and the nuns, (there were nuns all over the place,) can keep up saying their prayers like they do!
The whole atmosphere is very moving of that there is no doubt and I felt very pleased that I had come.
I started my walk - upright variety - from the far end of the wide open space and was made to think long and hard about a couple of phrases on the large walls at the far end –
“God is Love" and "I am the door, whoever comes in by me will be saved"
Then I was sitting inside The Chapel - a great time of reflection.
Next I went inside The Basilica itself, through the 18 foot high massive old wooden door, after admiring all the fourteen statutes of Saints high on top of the open colonnades and the beautiful semi - circular Romano - classical symmetry of the whole building. Within was more symmetrical beauty with ten small chapels off-set from the main floor, at floor level, each small chapel's altar was gold decorated with significant stories about Jesus’ life for humanity. For example, of The Crucifixion and The Resurrection. The main floor was filled with four rows, 28 seats in each row of pews at which various people were kneeling and sitting. High above the small side chapels were brightly coloured, stained windows telling all about The Apparitions, with blinding flashes of light, The Children and The Virgin Mary with a white rosary of beads in her hands.
The tombs of Jacinta and Francisco were set in the floor on either side of the Main Altar. Each of their resting places was adorned mainly with flowers and other gifts. In front and to the right of the Main Altar is a large cross with an effigy of Jesus crucified.
After been inside The Basillica I went looking for a chunk of The Berlin Wall. I couldn't find it so went to the Information Desk and before I knew where I was the girl there was taking me across the square (runway) to show me. It turns out she wanted to practise her English with me and she left me her name and address telling me she will write to me, after I had given her my address. But I don't expect to hear from her again.
After the absorption I made my way back to the Hotel.
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Pilgrims starting to "do their penances" along what reminded me of an airport runway, towards The Chapel of Apparitions, The Sanctuary, Fatima; 29 July 2001
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Pilgrims "doing their penances" I believe towards the Chapel of Apparitions, the Sanctuary, Fatima; 29 July 2001
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Looking through the rectangular hole in the wall towards the square in front of The Basillica, the Sanctuary, Fatima; 29 July 2001
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A view looking towards The Basillica, The Sanctuary, Fatima from the other side of the wall; 29 July 2001
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I AM THE DOOR, WHOEVER COMES IN BY ME WILL BE SAVED. THE SANCTUARY, FATIMA; 29 July 2001
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Fatima Portugal holiday
diary and photographs of a budget, short-break vacation, prayer sheet, statute of our lady, message of Fatima, Jacinta, Francisco, Lucia, The Sanctuary, Fatima tourist information, this site is dedicated to obtaining justice for Erica and Eric Williams, Port Hope Simpson, Labrador, Newfoundland, Canada...http://porthopesimpson.blogspot.com/
Previous Posts
- Statue of Our Lady in the little Chapel of Apparit...
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- Feriado de Fatima Portugal
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