It has been a while since we went on a trip, especially one longer than just a few hours. As my birthday is in November, it was a perfect occasion to explore some new places. We decided to leave Algarve for a while and head towards Alentejo.
My first experience with this region was spectacular. We went to a campsite near Costa Vicentina, where the wild ocean's waves scatter on raw cliffs covered with a carpet of seaside succulents.
Into the Wild
This time, we decided to immerse more into the interior part of this region. I think I mentioned it many times: the interior of Portugal, whether Northern, Southern, or this part, located in the middle of the country, is one of the most underrated places in Europe. To be honest, I was sceptical before arriving here and my expectations were low. I heard some gossip about Alentejo before, and by listening to it, I imagined this region as a bigger version of a sad village, forgotten by God, people, and phone coverage, located somewhere in the middle of nowhere.
It didn't take long to verify that Alentejo is much more than this. It is spectacular, wild, unique, and original. (But you should really forget about the mobile signal in most places).
The Guadiana, the river that passes along the Eastern border of Alentejo, separating Portugal from Spain, creates a splendid landscape with the natural valley.
We travel by car, so we are lucky enough to take our time on the way to Mértola to admire an open road that passes by rural terrain, oak forests, and olive groves. Nowhere in Portugal have I seen so many wild animals. Partridges fly in front of us, to jump into the deep void of a slope covered by fog. A hare slowly jumps along the road, stopping for a moment to move its whiskers and return its focus to its journey. The signs by the road inform us that somewhere in this wilderness an Iberian lynx follows its everyday paths looking for food. A countless number of wild birds accompany us during the whole trip. An azure-winged magpie proudly unfolds its wings to catch a good breeze and soar to the sky. A woodpecker looks at us with curiosity when we stop for a short break along the way. A thrush welcomes us with its splendid colour in this land of nature.
The way to Mértola is varied. We have to climb a hill, then follow a narrow road down to the bank of the Guadiana, and after that, once again, go up a hill.
The sun is setting. It is this moment of the day and the year when you can almost see the air around you. The light pierces through it, hovering for milliseconds on tiny particles of dust. Gold and silver mix together, connecting in unity to spill over the horizon.
My favourite part of the way is a straight road that follows uneven terrain and gives a feeling of freedom. Just keep going, it seems to say.
When we arrive at our hotel in Mértola, the air is still warm, after a pretty hot day. A fresh breeze enters the room through the open window and fills the lungs with the spirit of adventure that we are going to continue the next day, in the abandoned mine located nearby.
With the Colour of Blood
Some places stop in time and, forgotten by everyone, slowly turn into ruins that over years will become the weathered legends of elders. Old factories, and all those spots that blossomed as an effect of the industrial revolution, collapsed with the years because of the automation of work.
Mina de São Domingos is located right next to a village with the same name. We need about ten minutes to walk through this little, sleepy place. The rows of low houses, without any windows, just one door, create a simple line that marks the streets.
We pass by a ruin, perhaps an old garage. With a white rusty car and signs that inform: Não Recebemos Cheques. We are on the top of the hill and the access to this place is protected by thick cactus bushes.
We go down the hill and approach the building from the side. There are a few pigs that sadly spend their lives enclosed in the ruin, with just a metal roof over their heads. When we follow the path, we finally see a hole in the ground. At this point, we can't see how deep it is yet.
We approach a pit, with warning signs that inform us about the toxicity of the water and the risk of skin damage. After a moment, the immense pit appears in front of our eyes. A steep slope formed by ginger-black stones frames a pool with a dark red liquid. It's water that has turned this colour because of the minerals and elements that are stored in the ground. Slopes that surround the pit have various deep colours, and it is easy to notice that they are composed of different types of materials.
A slow wind slowly distorts the perfectly smooth surface of the water, causing almost invisible movements of the water by the shore. It is impossible to not think about blood while looking at the lake and feeling the smell of iron.
Already in pre-Roman times, people were searching for precious materials here. During the Roman Empire, São Domingos was used for extracting copper and silver. After the Muslims took over and there was nothing else to get from the upper ground, they abandoned the mine.
The time of 'modern mining' took place over 100 years, starting in 1854. In this year, the Mason and Barry company was created. The new owners built a whole mining village in which miners could stay in close proximity to their work. Copper, sulfur, and pyrite were extracted here and mostly transported to England until 1966.
The stones that slip from under my shoes roll down the slope, echoing. The sound wave hits back and forth to finally disappear and retrieve the disturbing silence of this place. In the radius of the pit, there is no sign of animate nature. Everything seems quiet, almost dead, unable to survive in this environment.
Turned Into Ruins
The remains of the tunnel are not accessible. Warning signs inform that there is a risk of a wall collapsing. I think about the miners that had the same risk every day when they were passing through that tunnel to immerse in the darkness of the mine.
The pit was 420 metres deep and had a lot of tunnels through which, each day, people were passing with heavy loads full of precious materials.
We keep walking to unravel abandoned structures of the buildings that supported the work of the mine. Most of the structures don’t have roofs. Walls have started collapsing and the leftovers of the small bridge hang sadly above the tunnels.
When we approach one of the hills, we can see a flat strip of land. That's everything that remains of a whole railway, which connected the mine with the river in Pomarão.
Magic of Empty Spaces
Sometimes, places like this live not only in the old ruins but also haunt whole villages or towns. But there is a weird kind of beauty in these places, located far away from typical tourist trails. In their silent lives, they are almost minimalistic. Beautiful in the simplicity of their destruction. In Mina de São Domingos, in its pit and the ruins of the industrial complex, there is an enraptured magical story.
It is not a story about the beauty of work. The conditions of working in mines were never good, to put it mildly. Neither is it a story about community, as it is hard to say how the life of the miners looked here.
It is a story about the quite presences that are enchanted in an empty space. About the remains of the buildings and the people that know their stories and history, and pass on them by their ancestors. And about memory that stays alive just as long as it is passed from one person to another. After all, without it, Mina de São Domingos would just be a sad, empty place. A weird landscape with a soul and a spirit long gone into obscurity.
But there are still faded boards that inform tourists about the history of the place, and a church, built when the miners arrived in this place, and the lake, one of the very few in Portugal that attracts tourists from all over the country. And, of course, a little café, right next to the market square and the butcher.
There, starting early in the morning, stories about people come alive. The memory of grandparents that are long gone floats over a café pingado, and orange juice dissolves the bitter reminiscence of suffering. A sweet recollection of love is warmed up with a sip of aguardente. Listen carefully to the hum of everyday life. Maybe there, between the sentences, the story about places long gone is hidden, yet still alive, but with a new meaning and a different form.
Where to Stay in Mina de São Domingos
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Interested in knowing more about Mertola located nearby? Read my article in AlgarvePlus Magazine online.
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