A meditative essay where I take time to see the space I inhabit and discover the fascinating connection my new home has with Portugal's 'skeleton queen' in Canidelo, Vila Nova de Gaia, Portugal
An intermezzo for me usually involves disappearing from the farmhouse for a while and hiding away in one of Listowel's lovely coffee shops with my book. I love the pictures of your locale, and the interesting history.
Fascinating exploration by Michelle! I'm familiar with Portugal's Skeleton Queen, but not the Marquez.
There are so many local stories around Marco de Canaveses, I don't even know where to begin. Locals used to say that the Ruínas do Fidalgo were never just an abandoned manor. According to old stories, several workers died while the house was being built, falling from the granite walls or crushed by stone, and people began to whisper that the Devil had claimed the place. After the house was finished, strange things were said to happen there. Lights seen at night, animals refusing to go near, and unexplained noises echoing through the empty rooms. In the end the noble family left, the roof collapsed, and the house slowly turned into the ruins we see today. Older people in the area would still warn children not to play there, saying simply, “Aquilo é a casa do diabo.”
That's such a grim and spooky story, Teresa! But I do think that knowing about these local stories is such an important way to connect with a place, and I'd love to discover more!
An intermezzo for me usually involves disappearing from the farmhouse for a while and hiding away in one of Listowel's lovely coffee shops with my book. I love the pictures of your locale, and the interesting history.
Thank you, Lucy - your intermezzo sounds pretty lovely, too!
Fascinating exploration by Michelle! I'm familiar with Portugal's Skeleton Queen, but not the Marquez.
There are so many local stories around Marco de Canaveses, I don't even know where to begin. Locals used to say that the Ruínas do Fidalgo were never just an abandoned manor. According to old stories, several workers died while the house was being built, falling from the granite walls or crushed by stone, and people began to whisper that the Devil had claimed the place. After the house was finished, strange things were said to happen there. Lights seen at night, animals refusing to go near, and unexplained noises echoing through the empty rooms. In the end the noble family left, the roof collapsed, and the house slowly turned into the ruins we see today. Older people in the area would still warn children not to play there, saying simply, “Aquilo é a casa do diabo.”
That's such a grim and spooky story, Teresa! But I do think that knowing about these local stories is such an important way to connect with a place, and I'd love to discover more!
Thanks for taking us on your journey with you.
It was great fun!