Journey to Portugal by José Saramago

It rained during the night; not the meagre drizzle of the previous afternoon, but a real honest-to-goodness downpour. But the next morning was clear and sunny. Perhaps that was why the traveller did not spend long inside the Cathedral. He liked the discreet Manueline facade, and the disposition of the porticos, which were imposing without being overwhelming, but the architecture inside seemed to him cold. If, as is said, it was Nasoni who oversaw this project, it must have been one of his off days. What is striking, in the traveller's view, is the rich decoration of the cupolas, and their tapering design, and the truly magnificent polychrome effects in the biblical scenes represented. There is a small, quiet cloister that seems more suited to the murmur of young girls' voices than to any dramatic religious meditations.

The traveller then went to the shrine of Nossa Senhora dos Remédios. This reminded him of the Bom Jesus church in Braga, although there were many differences. What was similar were the tall, wide steps up to the church, with at the top the promise, or at least the hope, of salvation. The rocaille exterior is worthy enough, but the blue and white stucco inside must weary anyone who has not come in search of the remedies offered by Nossa Senhora. What the traveller really appreciated was the theatrical alignment of the porticos at the lower end of the staircase. Here, the statues of imaginary kings on pedestals reminded him from the side of the figures of the prophets carved by Aleijadinho in Congonhas do Campo, in Brazil. Not that the traveller can pride himself on having been to see them, but photographs have made them world-famous, and you have to make an effort not to have seen them.