I visited Sintra in October of 1984 and then in late-September of 1992. I mention the months because the fall light cast a spell over me and allowed me to experience Sintra as a magical place; full of early-morning mist moving over the castle walls, as we meandered in silence, taking in the peace and fresh-scent of the forest that surrounded us. There is much that has been written about Sintra and its appeal to travellers, including the poet, Lord Byron, who praised Sintra in his famous poem, Child Harold’s Pilgrimage.
Rather than retell the stories easily available on-line, I prefer to share these photographs of a place and time that I am grateful to have experienced.
Me in Sintra, 1989