Mafra - Portugal

Apr 26

A Journey Through Time and Stone

The morning drive from Ericeira to Mafra took us through rolling hills dotted with olive groves and traditional Portuguese farmhouses, the Atlantic breeze gradually giving way to the inland air of Estremadura. As we crested the final hill, the massive limestone façade of the Palace emerged before us like a vision from another century—823 feet of perfectly symmetrical Baroque architecture that seemed almost impossibly large for the modest town of 11,000 residents nestled at its feet.

Finding free parking adjacent to the palace complex proved remarkably easy, a stark reminder that we were visiting during the shoulder season when most Portuguese gems remain blissfully uncrowded. Our first stop was the war memorial beside the palace, a somber granite monument honoring the Portuguese soldiers who fought in the Great War. The juxtaposition was striking—this simple tribute to the common man standing in the shadow of a monument to royal ambition.

The palace itself is nothing short of breathtaking in its scope and ambition. Construction began in 1717 under King John V of Portugal and was completely concluded in 1755, born from a vow the king made in 1711, to build a convent if his wife, Maria Anna of Austria, gave him offspring. What began as a modest Franciscan friary for 13 Capuchin monks transformed into something far more grandiose when the flow of gold and diamonds from the Portuguese colony of Brazil started to arrive in Lisbon in abundance.

The scale is almost incomprehensible: the Palace has a floor area of about 410,000 square feet, making this monument one of the largest in Europe. As we stood before its imposing façade, built of local limestone and facing the town center, we could count 240 yards long of continuous architecture crowned by two square towers with distinctive bulbous domes reminiscent of Central European churches.

We entered through the basilica, where Easter decorations still adorned the white marble interior, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. A handful of local worshippers moved quietly through the sacred space, their whispered prayers echoing softly off the vaulted ceilings. The basilica was dedicated to Our Lady and to Saint Anthony of Padua and houses remarkable treasures: 58 statues by the best Roman and Florentine artists and two towers on the facade containing two carillons ordered from Flanders and constituting a unique bell heritage worldwide.

After purchasing our tickets for the self-guided tour, we began our exploration of the royal apartments and monastic quarters. The tour route takes visitors through dozens of rooms, each more opulent than the last. The throne room, with its gilded furniture and elaborate tapestries, spoke to the absolute power of the Portuguese monarchy during its golden age. The game room, complete with period billiard tables, offered a glimpse into royal leisure pursuits.

Perhaps the most haunting room was the Trophy Room (Sala dos Troféus), where furniture crafted entirely from antlers and pelts of animals killed during royal hunts in the nearby Tapada created a macabre testament to royal dominance over nature. The trophies represented the king's ability to maintain order in the natural world, drawing parallels between the royal court and the harmony of the natural realm.

The palace's crown jewel awaited us on the upper floor: the magnificent Rococo library. Built by Manuel Caetano de Sousa, this library is 88 m long, 9.5 m wide and 13 m high. The magnificent floor is covered with tiles of rose, grey and white marble. The wooden bookshelves in Rococo style are situated on the sidewalls in two rows, separated by a balcony with a wooden railing. Housing 36,000 volumes representing much of the western knowledge from the 14th to the 19th century and are protected from insect damage by homing bats! The sight of these tiny guardians fluttering occasionally between the ornate shelves added a touch of natural magic to this temple of knowledge.

From the second-floor walkway, we gained a unique perspective overlooking the basilica's interior, watching the play of light through stained glass windows illuminate the marble altar below. This elevated view revealed the true architectural genius of Johann Friedrich Ludwig (known in Portuguese as Ludovice), the German architect who had studied architecture in Rome and knew contemporary Italian art.

The 18th-century infirmary provided perhaps the most poignant moment of our visit—the only remaining room of that time that gives visitors insight into the medical practices of the era and the palace's role in caring for its inhabitants.

After completing the interior tour, we ventured into the Cerco Garden, which proved to be a delightful surprise. Far from being merely a formal royal garden, this space functions as a genuine community park where local families gather for picnics and celebrations. There is an aviary containing a variety of birds, a fountain, a herb garden and a children's playground. The gardens' geometric layout was clearly inspired by Versailles, but they possessed a more relaxed, accessible character that made them feel alive and relevant to contemporary Mafra.

We discovered impeccably manicured aviaries housing various species of owls and other birds of prey, their alert eyes following our movements with keen intelligence. At the garden's rear, families had spread blankets on the grass near picnic tables while children played on traditional playground equipment. A small café served simple refreshments, and we witnessed a charming birthday celebration where three generations of a Portuguese family shared cake and laughter beneath the palm trees.

Our exploration of Mafra town center revealed a community that has maintained its authentic character despite housing one of Europe's most spectacular palaces. We discovered a local fish restaurant where the proprietor, upon learning we were visitors, insisted on preparing whatever was freshest that day. The result was a sublime meal of grilled fish, roasted vegetables, and perfectly seasoned rice that ranks among the finest we've enjoyed in Portugal. The intimacy of dining in this family-run establishment, where locals stopped by the kitchen to chat with the owner, provided a perfect counterpoint to the morning's royal grandeur.

What struck us most profoundly was the palace's human scale despite its monumental proportions. The palace was not occupied permanently by the royalty, who considered the rooms too gloomy, instead serving as a festivities and parties palace and a resting place for the royal family after their long hunts. This revelation added poignancy to our visit—all this magnificent architecture, representing decades of labor by thousands of workers, ultimately served as an occasional royal retreat.