Return to Estoi Palace

 Mac and I first came to Portugal in 1984, thirty six years ago. We stayed in Vilamoura on the Algarve coast, and met a wonderful English family I still keep in touch with (hi Kay!). But soon realized in order to see the real country we would need to get away from the beaches and golf courses. So we headed to the market in Loule, had chicken peri peri in San Brás, that was so good we ate there 4 times that week. One day we visited a tiny village called Estoi about a half hour north of Faro. We arrived at siesta time with only a few half awake locals at the cafe in the square. The rest of the place was shuttered tight.  We parked the car and waved cheerfully at the snoozers. We heard the deafening gong of a church bell and headed aimlessly up a steep cobbled stairway, hoping some form of life might by some miracle be waiting. Instead we found ourselves heading down a narrow laneway and soon we were peering through a rusted old iron gate, half off its hinges. Inside was a row of stately palm trees following some sort of pathway, a totally tangled garden growing in all directions and ahead just barely visible, was an faded but ornate pink facade. We pushed aside the gate and stepped towards the strange pink mirage. Soon we were among pools and fountains filled with once creamy marble nymphs, stunning blue azulejo (tiles) covered nooks and whole walls, flowers grew with confidence out of the many cracks. Beauty and decay surrounded us, as we stared in silent amazement.  As we looked out over the orange groves, we could see the Mediterranean Sea in the distance, the walls hid the whitewashed tumble down village behind us. Who once lived here and why was it so neglected now ?  Despite asking the locals in the square, our own hotel and the tourist bureau in Vilamoura - we never got an answer other than a shrug and a smile.   Still looking for answers, we revisited the pink palace, this time with Alistair in 1989 when he was almost four, entering again through the half hinged gate. Twice we drove right past the famed Roman ruins at Milreu on the outskirts of Estoi, without a sidewards glance so enamoured were we with our mystery palace.  Nothing had changed and we had no answers.  (some pre digital pics to hopefully give a sense of what we saw)                                    

                               

   

1989 with Alistair 

This year while doing some research for my winter in Tavira, I realized I was quite close to Estoi and good ol goggle came though. I finally had answers to those 36 year old questions. The palace was first built by an aspiring courtier at the end of the 18th century and then in 1893, it was acquired by Francisco Jose da Silva a wealthy chemist, as his country home. But first he spent 16 years renovating the property to such high quality that the king made him Viscount of Estoi. Amazingly, it remained owned but not maintained by his relatives until 1987, when it was purchased by the city of Faro. They could not afford the upkeep either and it went further into decline until a deal was made so that Faro retained ownership, but a long term lease allowed a Pousada (historic upscale hotel) to open in 2009 after a modern addition for guests and 12 million euros of renovation.  Today the gardens welcome the public...the Pousada not so much...unless you happen to bring along photos (older than the reception staff). I received a lovely tour of the chapel and the beautiful refurbished public rooms and no mention of trespassing. So here are some final pictures to share of the Palace du Estoi in 2020.

Thanks for the pic Lorraine