When we were about an hour away from Montimerso, John started having a problem. The problem was that the scenery was getting prettier and prettier. We both love Braga – don’t read too much into this – but the natural beauty of Northern Portugal is not a perfect match for John’s favorite places. Whenever we go to Ireland and the UK, he gets a little swoony about the rolling green hills and giant trees (not to mention the moderate temperatures and, gods help him, the frequently gray skies). As we moved into the Alentejo it got suspiciously verdant, with carpets of wildflowers across the hillsides. As it turns out, photos of summer in the Alentejo broke the spell (three words: brown. hot. dry.) but it was a lovely if confusing drive down. Ah, springtime in the Alentejo… speaking of which.

So, two days in the Alentejo with one very specific, weather-dependent goal in mind. Day one was lovely, temperate, but wet. That was ok, the forecast had that right, so our fingers were crossed that day two would play out as predicted: clear skies and cold. After an excellent night’s sleep, we wandered into the main house for a buffet breakfast. Hot items included made-to-order pancakes and omelettes; everything else was a robust, if typical, European breakfast including yogurt, jams, sweet butter, cured meats, sliced cheeses, and fruit in both whole and sliced varieties. The coffee was particularly good (which isn’t always the case; it’s actually kinda mind-boggling that in a country that produces generally excellent coffee, the hotels regularly have swill), and there were several juices and teas to choose from.

Replete, we decided to walk the extensive grounds. The surrounding land has been rewilded, so we saw drifts of wildflowers, enjoyed the aromas of a variety of herbal plants wafting through the air, accompanied by a chorus of birdsong. We aren’t actually given to just wandering through meadows; it’s one of those things that sounds good in books but, after half an hour or so we start wondering when the show is going to start. (heh) It was just so dang pretty down there, though, and what with it being an Anniversary trip and all, we were content to meander up and down the hills for a fair piece of the day. Bonus star of the show? The Alqueva Lake (Europe’s largest man-made reservoir) that glistens as far as the eye can see. It was too cold to take a dip in the (unheated) infinity pool, but we could imagine how refreshing it would be to do so in August.

There are lake beaches and medieval walled towns and villages nearby – we snuck to the hilltop town of Monsaraz for dinner and it blew us away; that’s got to be a whole different trip for sure — in short, we discovered that we can happily spend a lot more time in the Alentejo in years to come. But the sun was setting and our main event was about to begin! First of all – holy hell, the sky was gorgeous. It’s one of those sights like the Grand Canyon, where you can hear stories and you can see pictures but it really, really doesn’t explain it the way actually being there does. The real night sky was the same way, and so describing it, as we just got done saying, is not easy. (And by the way, we are well aware how silly this must sound to people who live in such places; “yeah pal, it’s the sky. Big whoop?” But that’s the life we’ve led…) The good news is that John had been spending some time learning the advanced features of his phone’s camera, which includes (apparently) pretty good “astrophotography.” The bad news? Turns out he still has a lot to learn. Exhibit A:

Kinda neat, right? Really pretty… what exactly is in the picture? No clue. Yeah, the settings are one thing, and leaving it perfectly still for 10 minutes is just logistics, but taking a picture worth looking at is over the next hill, apparently. Still, taking our own beautiful pictures of the night sky is closer to reality than ever before. In any case, horizon to horizon we were suffused with the visible light of millions of stars. The instructor on hand guided us (in English, woo!) across the sky using a fascinating telescope that could point itself wherever he asked it to. Look, there was a lot of technology involved and we understood only a little of it. He said “point at that star” and it did, ok? We were also almost embarrassingly fascinated with his laser pointer. Like, there’s pointers that cats will chase around the living room, and then there was his laser pointer, with which he could direct our attention to stars in the sky and we could clearly follow it. Sometimes we’re simple people, ok? It was a cool laser pointer. After an hour or so of his tour through science and mythology and the place of astronomy and astrology throughout time it was true dark and we could retire to our room, sit on the patio, and just absorb the wonders above.

So, yes. The point of the trip paid off this time, as well as we could ever have wished. Our curiosities sated and our anniversary happily observed, we made for home. Now that the Dark Sky is checked off, we’ll have to set some new, even more abstruse goal to celebrate with!

A long time ago (last year), in a galaxy far, far away (Braga), we planned to celebrate our anniversary by ticking an item off our not-quite-in-the-bucket list – visiting a Dark Sky Observatory (or DSO). We’ve wanted to go to one for many years but they aren’t always conveniently located, for obvious reasons. However, one of the central regions of Portugal known as the Alentejo has a large swath that is so designated. It’s relatively high altitude and hardly ever rains, so stargazing there can be amazing. We booked a nice room at an inn, rented a car, packed our bags…. aaaaaand it rained. Less than two days a month on average, but the ole storm clouds scored a bullseye. Figures. So, we filed that plan away, and this year we pulled it out to give it another go. It was sketchy for a bit but turned out wonderfully. Do tell? We tell!

“What exactly is a DSO,” you ask? Excellent and thoughtful question! In a Dark Sky Observatory the territory is rural or agricultural, or for whatever reason devoid of human settlement. A DSO is not so much a specific place with an address, it’s a region that has been marked out as having extremely low, or no, light pollution, allowing for the best environment for viewing the night sky. Generally, the local inhabitants and businesses agree to avoid using external light as much as possible. Just in case you aren’t aware, the ambient light in populated areas washes out the comparatively dim light of the stars in the sky, the result being that only the brightest stars are visible. The Alentejo is one such place – it’s an area of land not suited for large cities but perfect for some kinds of farming (primarily cork, grapes, and olives). A lot of great wine comes out of the Alentejo. The result is that you can settle in for an overnight or two and see the sky in a way that most people in industrialized nations rarely get to do.

Last time we had booked ourselves into a simple little motel, but this time we figured “what the heck, it’s our anniversary!” and made plans to go to Montimerso Skyscape Countryhouse. Described as a remote, tranquil eco-retreat with 15 suites, jaw-dropping lake views, starry skies, and a top-rated gourmet restaurant, it seemed very celebratory. And we fell in love with this sparkling eco-hotel in a secret corner of glorious Alentejo countryside. Nature is at the heart of everything here – from the fresh, seasonal ingredients used in the kitchen, to the trendy, locally-sourced decor in the rooms. All of the suites are generously sized, even the smallest (ours) and beautifully designed with handmade interiors with muted tones and cork and wicker touches. Did I mention those far-reaching views of the lake or countryside? We were utterly charmed.

We were amused during check-in when they asked us “do you have a problem with dogs?” We don’t, and their website even mentions being dog-friendly. However, there’s “friendly” and there’s “our two dogs act like they own the place and very likely will wander into your room to see if you like giving belly scritches.” John actually likes this level of engagement with random dogs so he had a great time, but we could both admit this was a little extra. The little pooch pictured here actually came in through the front door of our room and nosed around pleasantly enough. John said “ok pal, I’m closing this up and you need to go, but if you can find us on the back patio (we were ground floor with a nice little deck space) then you’ll earn your way in… and sure enough, 15 minutes later – give or take – he sauntered up to us on the patio, received chin skritches as was his due, and then went for a lie down in our room. I mean, he’d earned it, right?

Dinner that evening was at the hotel’s SkyScape Restaurant, by pre-arrangement. (They have a zero waste policy and ask that you pre-order at least 24 hours in advance so they can minimize food waste.) For a fixed priced, we shared a collection of starters, small plates, both hot and cold, all featuring foods local to the Alentejo. We had cheeses, cured meats, crusty bread, asparagus drizzled in a honey-mustard dressing and topped with toasted nuts, and black pig tenderloins with migas (a local delicacy made by soaking stale bread. Dessert was super-sweet sericaia (a type of flat cake local to the region) with plum and cinnamon.

The weather this night was not cooperative to skywatching, but we’d been expecting that from the forecast, so it wasn’t a disappointment. We went to sleep that night with visions of sugarplums, or at least clear skies, dancing in our heads.