tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8689872315786989952024-03-28T20:12:11.174+00:00Olhares ViajantesUma viagem é como uma pessoa e não há nunca duas iguais (John Steinbeck)Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.comBlogger212125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-580794289313552942024-03-28T20:12:00.000+00:002024-03-28T20:12:10.222+00:00E as Pirâmides ali ao lado...<p style="text-align: justify;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3T7p5kHHYity4VZ2k79nQPDBVN4NV0ZHEqeNnyc9bihkzMRirct4KpAs_5xC-QSMF5-7KL01REoO6sJJqIovDOIhdylXfs77xG0kw-58Yx82fsWoesoS0hKQDM_d9BpZs1p_VrOc5jAozijdhhbyun5ZWhMwkDzxrSUUl9dOhyphenhyphenf3NTjqPHQVSmHr9o4/s3832/20230824_111420.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2120" data-original-width="3832" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiY3T7p5kHHYity4VZ2k79nQPDBVN4NV0ZHEqeNnyc9bihkzMRirct4KpAs_5xC-QSMF5-7KL01REoO6sJJqIovDOIhdylXfs77xG0kw-58Yx82fsWoesoS0hKQDM_d9BpZs1p_VrOc5jAozijdhhbyun5ZWhMwkDzxrSUUl9dOhyphenhyphenf3NTjqPHQVSmHr9o4/w400-h221/20230824_111420.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A visão, quase irreal, das Pirâmides de Ghiza</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Quase nos esquecemos delas, no meio do bulício do Cairo! Mas elas lá estão, imponentes, silenciosas, misteriosas, confrontando-nos com a nossa pequenez e a nossa mortalidade!</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rU640hUKrlqsXeM-vE4qZ4KHsiEjeEoi_mWv9xNcy6BusPx71mSIpIISjHtlaS2Rn21E2qMUMYvVHP_4oqYyammp5G5HmcRxkNnupbFveARqHDgYb7NpeIlefM5vHuP63MhnicF_I4rZfQnTsFapGDtsKCutxpCrs5gNhoOLSgWD_-9kn5D7svHELwc/s4000/20230824_101212.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3rU640hUKrlqsXeM-vE4qZ4KHsiEjeEoi_mWv9xNcy6BusPx71mSIpIISjHtlaS2Rn21E2qMUMYvVHP_4oqYyammp5G5HmcRxkNnupbFveARqHDgYb7NpeIlefM5vHuP63MhnicF_I4rZfQnTsFapGDtsKCutxpCrs5gNhoOLSgWD_-9kn5D7svHELwc/w400-h225/20230824_101212.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A caminho da Grande Pirâmide</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As fotografias são enganadoras. Mostram-nos as pirâmides de Ghiza de um ângulo tal que parecem estar no meio do deserto, num sítio isolado e longínquo. Mas não é assim, a cidade do Cairo expandiu-se até quase engolir estas montanhas de pedra, únicas remanescentes das antigas maravilhas do mundo.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuT3iTMobl0tOFvaWTxSm9GL0zU8CAZPy-8ca8k_iBLhkexi8gVhv7r-kZNw-zUuNy_pHrrAY00m5hKoaqUgozf4ZIGyMp2UM5eY2avXQfXqG4wOPhqcDrt9cZOYNtEyPyjTYjn4ke1RxjPYc-CiHhQ02MwJYjsSVBfAnNT85AWEJ_C7wAERmE-abAmM/s3809/20230824_092728.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2181" data-original-width="3809" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJuT3iTMobl0tOFvaWTxSm9GL0zU8CAZPy-8ca8k_iBLhkexi8gVhv7r-kZNw-zUuNy_pHrrAY00m5hKoaqUgozf4ZIGyMp2UM5eY2avXQfXqG4wOPhqcDrt9cZOYNtEyPyjTYjn4ke1RxjPYc-CiHhQ02MwJYjsSVBfAnNT85AWEJ_C7wAERmE-abAmM/w400-h229/20230824_092728.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Ao lado da cidade...</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas elas lá continuam, indiferentes a nós, indiferentes ao tempo. Construídas no 3.º milénio a. C., no Império Antigo, foram concebidas para a imortalidade. O tamanho das pedras da base da Grande Pirâmide de Khufu (dantes chamavamos-lhe Keops...) é colossal e remete-nos para perguntas sem resposta, sobre a força, a crença, a enorme teimosia que ergueu estes montes organizados de pedra, durante anos a fio. Faz-nos refletir sobre os recursos que ali foram aplicados, o esforço dos milhares de homens que ali trabalharam, o sonho do rei que assim pensou garantir a imortalidade para si e para o seu povo.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08B8Fe9pjgqx9XyGjJbsOlOvn4TpFrDS8GMc8ExmiZIs8oebK9HRXgpG0DJkkYEKrDkg-T2L_NSbUpDiWU0pYapqQZIgVfrYJjeQxPEnFTAu27TBr7M7n9_A_sZ7bmLcPv0eX2BGZOMQKwIFF-1Tr4jfKSlSI4bdaethmFA0waSbg6hFpx-BNTb0b0xg/s4000/20230824_100722.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi08B8Fe9pjgqx9XyGjJbsOlOvn4TpFrDS8GMc8ExmiZIs8oebK9HRXgpG0DJkkYEKrDkg-T2L_NSbUpDiWU0pYapqQZIgVfrYJjeQxPEnFTAu27TBr7M7n9_A_sZ7bmLcPv0eX2BGZOMQKwIFF-1Tr4jfKSlSI4bdaethmFA0waSbg6hFpx-BNTb0b0xg/w225-h400/20230824_100722.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pedras gigantescas</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Estes grandes túmulos já foram saqueados há muito tempo. Perderam-se as múmias e os tesouros que as acompanhavam. Não havia ainda relevos ou pinturas para nos orientarem a compreensão.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJZGAuVtglhCIU1j4Rbn-fSipx8ntXOq4TmF91JwNkDdVYbTrKBKJYtAz4T4GDtN9hIrWb_w5wBtIqm2spfJofi_YWXLL_MyFhvm0rm5bb3GsqQG9VcFfqxDJIjof0qLChET-AVLxz0iNFuQ4AghnHZiMt9kgn2ZrR20y03k8OGhP0Eer_PYZU4WpfaI/s4000/20230824_115321.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuJZGAuVtglhCIU1j4Rbn-fSipx8ntXOq4TmF91JwNkDdVYbTrKBKJYtAz4T4GDtN9hIrWb_w5wBtIqm2spfJofi_YWXLL_MyFhvm0rm5bb3GsqQG9VcFfqxDJIjof0qLChET-AVLxz0iNFuQ4AghnHZiMt9kgn2ZrR20y03k8OGhP0Eer_PYZU4WpfaI/w400-h225/20230824_115321.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Esfinge</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A Grande Esfinge, com rosto humano e corpo de leão, continua ali ao lado, a proteger o que continua a ser diariamente violado por hordas de turistas! Como eu... Ao longo dos séculos saqueámos, esventrámos, profanámos o desejo de um retiro tranquilo no além. E, no entanto... ao virmos aqui, e evocarmos os seus nomes, e olharmos com respeito para as suas realizações, não estaremos de algum modo a garantir a sua imortalidade?</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVs8nJbRKtyVcrmdS6xLZRNxS7_kRv-rmsf5zf921nCJ2WV6df36gsatX-PT4HOWM1EtzMNmDHob86sP7rT8nWzwwQG_OBOn2kkhCfXG22z-Nv42ylOFWk7xAnYMGQref-lBBfrjnR0LrM3LlrxcfX5r1Ylqt1qjgmw0Yl_W1eRl-4GI2VOp2iBSbyQhY/s4000/20230824_114705.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVs8nJbRKtyVcrmdS6xLZRNxS7_kRv-rmsf5zf921nCJ2WV6df36gsatX-PT4HOWM1EtzMNmDHob86sP7rT8nWzwwQG_OBOn2kkhCfXG22z-Nv42ylOFWk7xAnYMGQref-lBBfrjnR0LrM3LlrxcfX5r1Ylqt1qjgmw0Yl_W1eRl-4GI2VOp2iBSbyQhY/w225-h400/20230824_114705.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Esfinge, o que achas da evolução do mundo nestes últimos 3000 anos?</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Para os antigos gregos, o Egito era uma terra de mistérios. Heródoto visitou as Pirâmides de Ghiza no século V a. C. e deixou-nos as suas impressões reverentes. É estranho pensar que eram tão antigas em relação a Heródoto como o grande historiador clássico o é, em relação a nós! Mas a admiração e reverência mantêm-se iguais.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfd2HA2BvZHnNW7rN3TDylynHiyUgewO6sYTp_5-GttD3HMpSPH8Pyd5LkzUyVTdjcO5ytLIuru8xLxOODbx9kU2IHjQsFlmq14mt4wc6MykysQznQY2nhZmSyxAmBGLRFDVaQX7zsyYZoTbuVj9WDaTJ_r8QBy0c-2lhEJrARIL7uP9Yb6v3CiLxs8J8/s2538/20230824_070025.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1813" data-original-width="2538" height="286" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjfd2HA2BvZHnNW7rN3TDylynHiyUgewO6sYTp_5-GttD3HMpSPH8Pyd5LkzUyVTdjcO5ytLIuru8xLxOODbx9kU2IHjQsFlmq14mt4wc6MykysQznQY2nhZmSyxAmBGLRFDVaQX7zsyYZoTbuVj9WDaTJ_r8QBy0c-2lhEJrARIL7uP9Yb6v3CiLxs8J8/w400-h286/20230824_070025.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada para o sítio arqueológico de Saqqara</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Perto do Cairo e das grandes pirâmides de Khufu, Khafré e Menkauré, localiza-se o complexo funerário de Djoser, em Saqqara. Anterior às pirâmides do planalto de Ghiza, aí o faraó Djoser e o seu arquiteto Imhotep criaram a primeira arquitetura monumental: descobriram que a pedra podia ser trabalhada e não apenas empilhada, como material de construção.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4NEyfU91xvjQqlvGzJUAYe3josI80f_Qc6lDknJg9hos3z0F2fWLqpyhrrkCkHjBcNh3B0U2zMOa0c5dK9kOjv8wUBZKGGrqeMBm94kai2t3hb7ei98WOJM8ma6q0thkRD8AjxQQCl7qDwbUBy2yG8CkMLUa8Qvq9wZ2Sb-QX4e0sDvd8pIpkmCEabo/s3355/20230824_071317.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1891" data-original-width="3355" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4NEyfU91xvjQqlvGzJUAYe3josI80f_Qc6lDknJg9hos3z0F2fWLqpyhrrkCkHjBcNh3B0U2zMOa0c5dK9kOjv8wUBZKGGrqeMBm94kai2t3hb7ei98WOJM8ma6q0thkRD8AjxQQCl7qDwbUBy2yG8CkMLUa8Qvq9wZ2Sb-QX4e0sDvd8pIpkmCEabo/w400-h225/20230824_071317.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A grande pirâmide de degraus de Djoser...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZc_U5zV0GRA1HVGOU1Re_rDWvC5FWMeCKH2YjBRBSHE_rTziAfD1R62YY33QvNgLji4og1kbcOSyqF9pYAb_sI-eqioTZbhLVvtAbbc0QtdEymi6ykqwSNq-wijuJMnYkUbfpzzr_To-_pox6XUT7nvh02AHIMFQ9Mt_rFY-q-W3nKlNqyIyRgiqsGI/s2988/20230824_071312.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1644" data-original-width="2988" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDZc_U5zV0GRA1HVGOU1Re_rDWvC5FWMeCKH2YjBRBSHE_rTziAfD1R62YY33QvNgLji4og1kbcOSyqF9pYAb_sI-eqioTZbhLVvtAbbc0QtdEymi6ykqwSNq-wijuJMnYkUbfpzzr_To-_pox6XUT7nvh02AHIMFQ9Mt_rFY-q-W3nKlNqyIyRgiqsGI/w400-h220/20230824_071312.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">...protegida por uma alta parede de pedra</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Em todas estas pirâmides de pedra - material que as tornava eternas - o rei precisava de cumprir as mesmas tarefas que cumprira em vida, para assegurar a ordem cósmica estabelecida pelos deuses. Por isso, os grandes túmulos fornecem-nos inúmeras informações sobre o culto e vida quotidiana no Antigo Egito.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pgTa9rX7rLstl3iRMVi4EuVoN5qeapCbac-CqtwEZ2g364-nIzcCAbpX5b2FvebxMN-3NHRVcQ1tfCAT9YnUGnN2uB6P4HUN7zZh5VpYPZKNYMgFm3BgFaOKUE1oZH1VmTPR4-L9RPTW2DQAE0HXs0ddU3kNhNwekIn6iAOctcckWJlaycgeOhzggpY/s4000/20230824_072914.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8pgTa9rX7rLstl3iRMVi4EuVoN5qeapCbac-CqtwEZ2g364-nIzcCAbpX5b2FvebxMN-3NHRVcQ1tfCAT9YnUGnN2uB6P4HUN7zZh5VpYPZKNYMgFm3BgFaOKUE1oZH1VmTPR4-L9RPTW2DQAE0HXs0ddU3kNhNwekIn6iAOctcckWJlaycgeOhzggpY/w400-h225/20230824_072914.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Ainda se podem visitar as ruínas dos templos e pátios circundantes</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas nem só o faraó tinha direito à imortalidade. De todo o complexo de Saqqara, o túmulo que mais me emocionou foi o do vizir Mereruka, um governante importante da 6.ª dinastia. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXm9o6e9pcJf1TdEn7C0skxywZkG00HT0bjojeDa7NhDl7R5QvurmMVZnuEuTYudV6IBcBEiSpIRu0WiJSYg6I9xJtxhT-MVoaGGBoMLqTGHAfs5snXERGE4Ejl0cPBL1SBmliecBkKUhLVOmNJdXWp7VAv1b3jIfwYtz4eSLZAGbbcddXsE6Sppwvg8/s4000/20230824_081004.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjeXm9o6e9pcJf1TdEn7C0skxywZkG00HT0bjojeDa7NhDl7R5QvurmMVZnuEuTYudV6IBcBEiSpIRu0WiJSYg6I9xJtxhT-MVoaGGBoMLqTGHAfs5snXERGE4Ejl0cPBL1SBmliecBkKUhLVOmNJdXWp7VAv1b3jIfwYtz4eSLZAGbbcddXsE6Sppwvg8/w225-h400/20230824_081004.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A imagem do vizir Mereruka</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhUTXWaLNsnx0OoMcZo4BXRH-ZXbfEVwKy4desXgQgMrgyhyphenhyphenqXkfunxEM7xc76hee1PvPsbp1yMhMAbOigKJYB71u1D85rhBcZbmqt1zu_HZjqjQ2h27dAVbTMuiX8lhGZuzecGrfuJ3hg_nurLQyBNtz-Md0Q1nJUWdzJe25ORvJRqZtsrKpi5lvkfw/s3688/20230824_075551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3688" data-original-width="2196" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwhUTXWaLNsnx0OoMcZo4BXRH-ZXbfEVwKy4desXgQgMrgyhyphenhyphenqXkfunxEM7xc76hee1PvPsbp1yMhMAbOigKJYB71u1D85rhBcZbmqt1zu_HZjqjQ2h27dAVbTMuiX8lhGZuzecGrfuJ3hg_nurLQyBNtz-Md0Q1nJUWdzJe25ORvJRqZtsrKpi5lvkfw/w239-h400/20230824_075551.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A entrada para o seu túmulo</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">É uma mastaba com trinta e três quartos e aposentos, de planta quase labiríntica. A decoração é elaborada e, para mim, quase comovente. Aí encontramos a figura do vizir mas também a da sua mulher, os dois unidos pelas mãos, numa demonstração de carinho com quase 5 000 anos. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-00qL2-827h_pjwyAs_yFma92RUEV1UD_5DaeaXudaiuGm1H4iNM4uRPOHZgbUkDMbsGeJG7vc1_MM9fk3LhAwTWAElEyhozfzvps6dOmzIOl-EmH3AWAdMXSJ0bUrwBvWwQJBfJocYRd4qQdwGlzjn8ebI-V8SPxl9XIEpYzVGrYWXMs264R6X7RC0/s4000/20230824_080847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiz-00qL2-827h_pjwyAs_yFma92RUEV1UD_5DaeaXudaiuGm1H4iNM4uRPOHZgbUkDMbsGeJG7vc1_MM9fk3LhAwTWAElEyhozfzvps6dOmzIOl-EmH3AWAdMXSJ0bUrwBvWwQJBfJocYRd4qQdwGlzjn8ebI-V8SPxl9XIEpYzVGrYWXMs264R6X7RC0/w400-h225/20230824_080847.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">De mãos dadas...<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As paredes estão cobertas de desenhos e baixos relevos delicados, onde podemos descobrir a vida no vale do Nilo, nessas épocas recuadas: os banquetes, as oferendas aos deuses, mas também as cenas do dia a dia. As pescarias no rio, os tufos de papiros, os patos que voam nas lagoas. A caça ao hipopótamo, as lutas entre os gigantes do rio, hipopótamos e crocodilos. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqKbddKat9uZMWuE5SaRlf6nv41bUek6RN9n-uxKoCqetUbQOhhgQvHqWnxvM-Zhm2_FcW_YyWknNta6f0War1-wH9cc9lYurT-Ru_fgeD5fwACeP0KRYpXr4nVMydhJznH6rCMubBlmLMdjBh3cF9CnKnOXmRlZkhpOTp5K-C2-NMAvD9mi3S8py4VqM/s3901/20230824_075812.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2027" data-original-width="3901" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqKbddKat9uZMWuE5SaRlf6nv41bUek6RN9n-uxKoCqetUbQOhhgQvHqWnxvM-Zhm2_FcW_YyWknNta6f0War1-wH9cc9lYurT-Ru_fgeD5fwACeP0KRYpXr4nVMydhJznH6rCMubBlmLMdjBh3cF9CnKnOXmRlZkhpOTp5K-C2-NMAvD9mi3S8py4VqM/w400-h208/20230824_075812.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os delicados baixos relevos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7n-dVeO1buHZg5mKqea2ilriLIPgbaJHvPlTvrFwNvxq_ogCO2Q7V2YXfCuygDPXrCblyKpcRRIthfV13S8d75WteBLqOYMPFQ-mWub-wnyf5et7FGFjAx7C4wqFqOcywN23cqRYJvPp43r3F9NVa_ggGS5ngPx2f1q-DngvqA97pMspitbpDR62byr8/s4000/20230824_075930.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7n-dVeO1buHZg5mKqea2ilriLIPgbaJHvPlTvrFwNvxq_ogCO2Q7V2YXfCuygDPXrCblyKpcRRIthfV13S8d75WteBLqOYMPFQ-mWub-wnyf5et7FGFjAx7C4wqFqOcywN23cqRYJvPp43r3F9NVa_ggGS5ngPx2f1q-DngvqA97pMspitbpDR62byr8/w400-h225/20230824_075930.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">E tudo isto esculpido e pintado com um rigor,uma delicadeza e um sentido de composição estética que nos deixam boquiabertos! E tudo isto numa época em que a Europa, coberta de florestas, desconhecia uma organização social mais complexa do que o clã, quanto mais este esmero de representação artística!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GN82GY92zzmHtzSVlMtv_UQUbFKTsoGcdUZ_U50Ln_Q9Prg2k-sUPxnf_es23SugH_JCopBXEH0Bn2rrI7PZJzXjnCKB7ObkInq08B64t4f5eQGSO4fx7S1YxPR2ujSu5KscyF54lkavNlHSIe9sFhYf2SbfC-TpJz3ApZlgQ32EsIWFav91kqiQSrs/s4000/20230824_081232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2GN82GY92zzmHtzSVlMtv_UQUbFKTsoGcdUZ_U50Ln_Q9Prg2k-sUPxnf_es23SugH_JCopBXEH0Bn2rrI7PZJzXjnCKB7ObkInq08B64t4f5eQGSO4fx7S1YxPR2ujSu5KscyF54lkavNlHSIe9sFhYf2SbfC-TpJz3ApZlgQ32EsIWFav91kqiQSrs/w400-h225/20230824_081232.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Cenas da vida nas margens do Nilo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-46552909611478269792024-02-07T17:12:00.000+00:002024-02-07T17:12:07.252+00:00Olhares sobre o Cairo<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLjcKMJd8V7FEmC80U9Db5U23oPiAp2Mi6rNsHEHjYUNOZAnUQAqYJ0QQt2XBma2jBsJ_FiKfqk9nmOUo8JYZDKYEgoVytWZUzSGpBW8PF0knhYWCgrOKZ-Br-xLi4tyJblFfAzKezhCX-M0pmUFaB77h1Ag8Bm3YiR5OiakIXQj99OZKcF2nJAy7r0I/s4000/20230824_151425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnLjcKMJd8V7FEmC80U9Db5U23oPiAp2Mi6rNsHEHjYUNOZAnUQAqYJ0QQt2XBma2jBsJ_FiKfqk9nmOUo8JYZDKYEgoVytWZUzSGpBW8PF0knhYWCgrOKZ-Br-xLi4tyJblFfAzKezhCX-M0pmUFaB77h1Ag8Bm3YiR5OiakIXQj99OZKcF2nJAy7r0I/w400-h225/20230824_151425.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Uma esquina no Cairo antigo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O Cairo não é a capital mais antiga do Egito, mas é com certeza a mais marcante, afirmando-se desde os tempos de Saladino. E é precisamente a partir da Cidadela de Saladino que, dizem, se tem a melhor vista sobre a cidade. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvTrD9JugSjST9LkGI2aFOKHq3YAiI2n8PuRTfSdU8MEJNIkBH2gP47Nu-2C3AU1MbmS_w3tHXBT6WEYlFiz-NkA1HEFwo0B8QVtAhaLl65HTlF3rZdWFxdcDqbXrw9VJTkRrJmALj7u4fvdmBIXkjfiswhjERg6gGMkaSOyCvPpmVAlmuRt8vK7wm5s/s4000/20230823_094455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyvTrD9JugSjST9LkGI2aFOKHq3YAiI2n8PuRTfSdU8MEJNIkBH2gP47Nu-2C3AU1MbmS_w3tHXBT6WEYlFiz-NkA1HEFwo0B8QVtAhaLl65HTlF3rZdWFxdcDqbXrw9VJTkRrJmALj7u4fvdmBIXkjfiswhjERg6gGMkaSOyCvPpmVAlmuRt8vK7wm5s/w400-h225/20230823_094455.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os muros da Cidadela de Saladino</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Situa-se na colina de Muqattan e aí viveram e reinaram várias gerações de califas e concubinas... É coroada pela grande mesquita de Muhamad Ali, construída no século XIX. Também lhe chamam Mesquita de Alabastro, já que esse é o revestimento das colunas e paredes que delimitam a sala principal.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzwIBv17FcutpQ0NldmpQMOjPb-5vWtcWUzgesVsArU-xNViBorqkxx_Agj7O5LjbCaVxQy0Ql_ZzQrv0qo0-Ml-s0X590dDNsm2RwZt_X6FhLXbw0t1pIFqBVdoiXyLn2zreayRO-pFj2e13SDAtkXvMOPw9VGDlerErOiIZZHWELXiyYRUB88dMdXE/s4000/20230823_095042.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdzwIBv17FcutpQ0NldmpQMOjPb-5vWtcWUzgesVsArU-xNViBorqkxx_Agj7O5LjbCaVxQy0Ql_ZzQrv0qo0-Ml-s0X590dDNsm2RwZt_X6FhLXbw0t1pIFqBVdoiXyLn2zreayRO-pFj2e13SDAtkXvMOPw9VGDlerErOiIZZHWELXiyYRUB88dMdXE/w400-h225/20230823_095042.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A mesquita de Muhamad Ali...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoiujkU71IbzfdX7NsQaSbJKgasKCtOrCO1rSeaCm3qhHdvnbb1fW5-DN1Nq4kkZqdzy_d8Avg_m4foq0lohFZZHB4xlgX-uPk2XaSXFhC2SuR4u-PGasi9qvW2X14muwgclRFyoGeL6FkDG4-cjRpCMuSGUbzm1nxrVyg519W8FyF9MbOfnNsFGuJkU/s3806/20230823_101815.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2141" data-original-width="3806" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMoiujkU71IbzfdX7NsQaSbJKgasKCtOrCO1rSeaCm3qhHdvnbb1fW5-DN1Nq4kkZqdzy_d8Avg_m4foq0lohFZZHB4xlgX-uPk2XaSXFhC2SuR4u-PGasi9qvW2X14muwgclRFyoGeL6FkDG4-cjRpCMuSGUbzm1nxrVyg519W8FyF9MbOfnNsFGuJkU/w400-h225/20230823_101815.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">... com os seus interiores totalmente forrados de alabastro</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">É um grande espaço aberto, iluminado por inúmeras lamparinas pendentes do teto, com o seu <i>mihrab </i>a indicar a direção de Meca. É bonita, sim, mas gostei mais do exterior do que do interior. O grande pátio é dominado por uma fonte de abluções ricamente trabalhada e por uma torre com um relógio, oferecida pelo rei francês Filipe Augusto quando da construção da mesquita e que nunca trabalhou...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNvvg8Jyfn_wHvXDzuG0eSNAaAqZdo5oXJ3NgaiUwbsbALEzpe_8PH6aZMLQ6c01tdzPI92_nQ_hYnlx4B-LHokx4OcdOGctUZS-y9sniSnDZRgsKzz3TZ30ArWW1nA8PRH-i6AsnUtfP5Iutm6ernSEbh4FQV1R5JkeM3acDXFus4gga22RJ41o4vDY/s4000/20230823_095729.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoNvvg8Jyfn_wHvXDzuG0eSNAaAqZdo5oXJ3NgaiUwbsbALEzpe_8PH6aZMLQ6c01tdzPI92_nQ_hYnlx4B-LHokx4OcdOGctUZS-y9sniSnDZRgsKzz3TZ30ArWW1nA8PRH-i6AsnUtfP5Iutm6ernSEbh4FQV1R5JkeM3acDXFus4gga22RJ41o4vDY/w400-h225/20230823_095729.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O pátio e o relógio que nunca funcionou...</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Dali, da cidadela, tenho o meu primeiro contacto real com o Cairo. A vista é privilegiada, a cidade estende-se sob os nossos olhos. Dizem que dali se conseguem ver as Pirâmides, mas isso só deve acontecer em dias muito claros e límpidos. Não era o caso. O que eu vi foi um aglomerado imenso de casas, todas da cor da areia do deserto, pontuadas pelos minaretes das mesquitas. Sobre toda a cidade pairava umanuvem baixa de calor e poluição. As elegantes torres da mesquita e universidade de Al-Azhar, fundada no século X e uma das mais importantes instituições de ensino do mundo islâmico, sobressaem do amontoado de casas. Ainda não sabia, mas iria visitá-la depois.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix5MuFpkqdY6RNWKQsq-EV5BQMhXtR32iorlJRADA87MTT-eDDpI7Xm-10zfeY9U4XlegCglHzkpEnTDFtZVzRy_HPZnWvWlN0zi-tKZjtyY-CrWwc_1YQcM9UtWtQXs-lwJm2QjyQJAVejRmpenckQLDQrCQIMf5-kmKtGJepacmHLTmQy7QFMf9sZDw/s3765/20230823_102814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2101" data-original-width="3765" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix5MuFpkqdY6RNWKQsq-EV5BQMhXtR32iorlJRADA87MTT-eDDpI7Xm-10zfeY9U4XlegCglHzkpEnTDFtZVzRy_HPZnWvWlN0zi-tKZjtyY-CrWwc_1YQcM9UtWtQXs-lwJm2QjyQJAVejRmpenckQLDQrCQIMf5-kmKtGJepacmHLTmQy7QFMf9sZDw/w400-h224/20230823_102814.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Cairo visto da esplanada da Cidadela de Saladino</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O Cairo é uma metrópole enorme, com cerca de 30 milhões de habitantes. Percebemos que estão a ser construídas infraestruturas para modernizar e agilizar a circulação. Percorremos e cruzamos rapidamente a cidade em vias rápidas e extensos viadutos. Para lá do centro, do Cairo histórico, estendem-se bairros desorganizados, de prédios inacabados que se ficaram pelo cimento e pelo tijolo. Os cabos de aço coroam anarquicamente todos os prédios, a par das antenas parabólicas. por vezes, as vias rápidas cruzam esses bairros e percebemos que cortaram os prédios por onde deu jeito. E as paredes interiores de quartos pintados de azul ou cor de rosa tornaram-se subitamente exteriores, contrastando com as paredes de tijolo.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCbIxxwAzbDuvCUeasjAseBnTCPQdowbLA7y19LjHtq78e5fLHkbpCQmHqcJjNy6AMgessahgTi-n4xKzKjY_KNNajFdd2k-FfRI-3jmuAe9Uy2T-BUlV1FTTYtQmVZwo2dX7POT-CqBPp095lWvnKjgroQRPyUDPVDpKJ2GavwvQkZUsSGtPWi3DBKs/s4000/20230824_063215.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZCbIxxwAzbDuvCUeasjAseBnTCPQdowbLA7y19LjHtq78e5fLHkbpCQmHqcJjNy6AMgessahgTi-n4xKzKjY_KNNajFdd2k-FfRI-3jmuAe9Uy2T-BUlV1FTTYtQmVZwo2dX7POT-CqBPp095lWvnKjgroQRPyUDPVDpKJ2GavwvQkZUsSGtPWi3DBKs/w400-h225/20230824_063215.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Há bairros cortados pelas novas vias rápidas</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Cruzamos também os cemitérios, a que me apetece mais chamar bairros dos mortos. Parecem enormes bairros de casinhas térreas encostadas umas às outras. Aí se colocam os defuntos, com em jazigos familiares. Têm um ar aprazível e arejado. Será que aí coabitam os vivos com os mortos? Garantem-me que não, agora já não é assim... Mas fica a dúvida... vi muita roupa estendida, a secar ao sol...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAo-2n_v5BLeE5jEpY2o_qWtRjwgctpRgVwD4VnTpBEf5rSac8w6zoAb5O5ifZl5LwIRQa8JLZK3Pg_DUruX_MvFXOWo0M2Hj4CNTGJXi0aVnAu0xJWKgdfv33Eof6duS1Pfb8o3KjEL24IZnIfQYJQIlPqeP2zPE7IhtSv4AuJQ6JxvG4-d-923AgAY/s4000/20230823_093158.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBAo-2n_v5BLeE5jEpY2o_qWtRjwgctpRgVwD4VnTpBEf5rSac8w6zoAb5O5ifZl5LwIRQa8JLZK3Pg_DUruX_MvFXOWo0M2Hj4CNTGJXi0aVnAu0xJWKgdfv33Eof6duS1Pfb8o3KjEL24IZnIfQYJQIlPqeP2zPE7IhtSv4AuJQ6JxvG4-d-923AgAY/w400-h225/20230823_093158.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Vista do Cairo com cemitério...</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Ao contrário de Alexandria, o Cairo é uma cidade para ver de perto. É necessário percorrer as ruelas da zona antiga para perceber o que a cidade tem de belo. O esplendor da cidade medieval, da dinastia fatímida, dos aiúbidas, aí está, desdobrando-se em torres elegantes, janelas e balcões finamente esculpidos, ornamentações inesperadas. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvsYnpyZMl21oq8FhhEk-El2w30fyH-MukJr20-An1be4_N2wijPNhXGYzKTFOfjmsqIJ7aPz-gvgMSo5Sk3KURXgd-rO8uB8JQxX9ogv3FUvJSwcOOqYZx-rUxZxO5F2sdoKNFaM1Za4ilMxOZ3KBvp-_wNvsYshaGFuN3rrC0Zs1b829XqeMFeasSKY/s4000/20230824_150153.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvsYnpyZMl21oq8FhhEk-El2w30fyH-MukJr20-An1be4_N2wijPNhXGYzKTFOfjmsqIJ7aPz-gvgMSo5Sk3KURXgd-rO8uB8JQxX9ogv3FUvJSwcOOqYZx-rUxZxO5F2sdoKNFaM1Za4ilMxOZ3KBvp-_wNvsYshaGFuN3rrC0Zs1b829XqeMFeasSKY/w400-h225/20230824_150153.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83Cb9SBuv1APrfo6tGR9D_nhzkckKQXNIzDs1_KZs8cYsjfT_nlQSw3YKX_kXSEc_0fCZMIn3wNL55-uIekKJ0TY1bLX4X-tpvR3NCvYn9MwTTePC4L8_I6tiW-kdC-bU8Xs6cYp3aUnabdkq8zmtUSrwNtftMFnGNY7zOKBR2IWY6Y9hBJ7J3WPvIew/s4000/20230824_145656.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg83Cb9SBuv1APrfo6tGR9D_nhzkckKQXNIzDs1_KZs8cYsjfT_nlQSw3YKX_kXSEc_0fCZMIn3wNL55-uIekKJ0TY1bLX4X-tpvR3NCvYn9MwTTePC4L8_I6tiW-kdC-bU8Xs6cYp3aUnabdkq8zmtUSrwNtftMFnGNY7zOKBR2IWY6Y9hBJ7J3WPvIew/w225-h400/20230824_145656.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwFsgBiWBQvWQW5waRqzvlRXEwwS1fcs5J8rZf3R808Yo5ta5MxYJx3QFwjD86L8dyMH0j-bt4MakPn_53E2lDFpXJj4Rn3Z7V1VXdwkzo7t7Y7QkI0OU8inIpvUGQbds2nhgbJ9QmZv9LG1wkPDPZzyJ6yBYpJyURV5ub4UU1qXcKbUwBTBxK_BSEH0/s3529/20230824_152134.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3529" data-original-width="2219" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvwFsgBiWBQvWQW5waRqzvlRXEwwS1fcs5J8rZf3R808Yo5ta5MxYJx3QFwjD86L8dyMH0j-bt4MakPn_53E2lDFpXJj4Rn3Z7V1VXdwkzo7t7Y7QkI0OU8inIpvUGQbds2nhgbJ9QmZv9LG1wkPDPZzyJ6yBYpJyURV5ub4UU1qXcKbUwBTBxK_BSEH0/w251-h400/20230824_152134.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Em algumas paredes, ainda se vêem os <i>mucharabiehs </i>de que falava Eça de Queiroz</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A cada esquina, uma surpresa. A entrada para uma madrassa, escura e misteriosa. Uma mesquita, com um minarete elevando-se acima da linha desordenada dos telhados. Mil e um pormenores decorativos nas fachadas das casas ou nas entradas das ruas cobertas.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDndODGrEDhSxR8EmMfsBDcMkQ_J9GzoqcFTxp5OgJVyCZNcSsKoTQweaaDc-F7pXUwRWMJ79kzHfForEJLR2nW3ZhT_8BoXUT3z-2UyzbeIW1e_DxtIckFmdNfI9L4AFXytpI31cgFV8RElzko22IBsvEx9BhXShG5Ie4RxAaiNFaIbnl9SHgrorsGz0/s4000/20230824_152551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDndODGrEDhSxR8EmMfsBDcMkQ_J9GzoqcFTxp5OgJVyCZNcSsKoTQweaaDc-F7pXUwRWMJ79kzHfForEJLR2nW3ZhT_8BoXUT3z-2UyzbeIW1e_DxtIckFmdNfI9L4AFXytpI31cgFV8RElzko22IBsvEx9BhXShG5Ie4RxAaiNFaIbnl9SHgrorsGz0/w225-h400/20230824_152551.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HpsCW-7XSlvZtfWa8K2RDlHWz7Y8OWsbrkj2M_TIBxtI2t6JEO7Mwu91Bh-LdZq88PvTneZfk6djvP4k_y_y_Qxk2sd-SrHfn-l25aMB9-n1yx2dB7wGkglX0vj_d6Tj2X6feEtNoyJRmqaZiex57F6ryimt5kXYU8FNAgM955VPdOBLwNDjgJjBBaE/s4000/20230824_153625.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8HpsCW-7XSlvZtfWa8K2RDlHWz7Y8OWsbrkj2M_TIBxtI2t6JEO7Mwu91Bh-LdZq88PvTneZfk6djvP4k_y_y_Qxk2sd-SrHfn-l25aMB9-n1yx2dB7wGkglX0vj_d6Tj2X6feEtNoyJRmqaZiex57F6ryimt5kXYU8FNAgM955VPdOBLwNDjgJjBBaE/w400-h225/20230824_153625.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7euJ3rNDUlge_kkCa0MtdEFtHgZXonaGSgueDh7nQ3JhJIuu7SZocY9xMDefQ9hYK6eEXCW0O0-EX-52MJLPsUW4R1PP0v_g4nr-_cVG3DWOUSm2iPh4oXncdS6K2iqfDTlAP0xzXgDhAjLX_OQIXnlIKkRVvPavkSD3RZIw9A3Ap1B7y84Yo8gBjAkE/s3039/20230824_154527.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3039" data-original-width="1923" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7euJ3rNDUlge_kkCa0MtdEFtHgZXonaGSgueDh7nQ3JhJIuu7SZocY9xMDefQ9hYK6eEXCW0O0-EX-52MJLPsUW4R1PP0v_g4nr-_cVG3DWOUSm2iPh4oXncdS6K2iqfDTlAP0xzXgDhAjLX_OQIXnlIKkRVvPavkSD3RZIw9A3Ap1B7y84Yo8gBjAkE/w253-h400/20230824_154527.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Pelo meio desta confusão magnífica, há lojas de tudo e mais alguma coisa, de cerâmicas a narguilés, com os produtos a estenderem-se pelos passeios. Algumas expõem os seus produtos com gosto, mas há outras em que a camada de pó acumulado parece ser anterior ao próprio Saladino.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5XDIHHZHCsR7I3P4jdvfBaH-ZLDCKAFX0ZajL9D_2bqE40jqd-wZtuNnzsRLJNHJY1PK0x0kW83fllLEwDTmN5TOyg5hyBNzUjfQXXbo783xevWEDUVhCckZ4vA9ycp4-tr-JZhBUAuG0b3C23va9jmlBjj_vgEYXqp6ZrrNzUd3uS3IsZgLLXwXUdA/s4000/20230824_154756.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-5XDIHHZHCsR7I3P4jdvfBaH-ZLDCKAFX0ZajL9D_2bqE40jqd-wZtuNnzsRLJNHJY1PK0x0kW83fllLEwDTmN5TOyg5hyBNzUjfQXXbo783xevWEDUVhCckZ4vA9ycp4-tr-JZhBUAuG0b3C23va9jmlBjj_vgEYXqp6ZrrNzUd3uS3IsZgLLXwXUdA/w225-h400/20230824_154756.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ga_G8ky9672-8t0bIFZyvDhB5hVdHKclhCs-6Xez1ssj_R7Iu1Eeii7nS1ZX8gmfOUN2SzB3EIXN1UgMrt9MKEECb24kJc_NKcOIi4nMBpuMExSGwAhf_4ZR91H7YcKQZbKuWeV41YtSU2ItI6KK-YAA5ZEPAXZw2Bx6CkA0pjnZBavpNIDCaAOe6os/s4000/20230824_153408.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-ga_G8ky9672-8t0bIFZyvDhB5hVdHKclhCs-6Xez1ssj_R7Iu1Eeii7nS1ZX8gmfOUN2SzB3EIXN1UgMrt9MKEECb24kJc_NKcOIi4nMBpuMExSGwAhf_4ZR91H7YcKQZbKuWeV41YtSU2ItI6KK-YAA5ZEPAXZw2Bx6CkA0pjnZBavpNIDCaAOe6os/w225-h400/20230824_153408.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Por todo o lado, muita gente. Mas não se acotovelam, não se empurram. Homens de T-shirt, mulheres de vestes escuras e compridas, muitas crianças, todos parecem ter um propósito definido, nem que seja estarem sentados num degrau à espera de qualquer coisa. As esplanadas apertadas das casas de chá enchem-se para o chá de menta.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCJEkrYI-gLW59KChn78l1gW7PPnr2zFMlT4V_1rhYMVxSzqopkwBYr-5QGimQ8NMmvvNUKvJZFGc-tpRDofRQ7ICTTdLx5Ew9S8TOGQVWUhTr-1abjhQTI_39HqJswL5OmC_eU8Jrk6LQQn3UC89gqfuRumqIy0FaPQV35sCm2vpihcnKM4LWzxYdnk/s4000/20230824_152306.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUCJEkrYI-gLW59KChn78l1gW7PPnr2zFMlT4V_1rhYMVxSzqopkwBYr-5QGimQ8NMmvvNUKvJZFGc-tpRDofRQ7ICTTdLx5Ew9S8TOGQVWUhTr-1abjhQTI_39HqJswL5OmC_eU8Jrk6LQQn3UC89gqfuRumqIy0FaPQV35sCm2vpihcnKM4LWzxYdnk/w400-h225/20230824_152306.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDRxasSkgJ3szQrO5UPIl2VwoaG-T4P8q4JhsdNzyrgD_GWv8gQi4Lwg344xMxG9EzKtasZGCp4IPYeq-xK_vs_XLjXlxx3t-QTNL48UMCKbzMo8mDNLEd020Y2fBaVKs2dBabPr-E0UvHEUP-utSAJkfHpg29TRjWGvIz8JnFU20nqCy7v59QNJMdmU/s4000/20230824_151252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDDRxasSkgJ3szQrO5UPIl2VwoaG-T4P8q4JhsdNzyrgD_GWv8gQi4Lwg344xMxG9EzKtasZGCp4IPYeq-xK_vs_XLjXlxx3t-QTNL48UMCKbzMo8mDNLEd020Y2fBaVKs2dBabPr-E0UvHEUP-utSAJkfHpg29TRjWGvIz8JnFU20nqCy7v59QNJMdmU/w225-h400/20230824_151252.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRUOuw7Z7nR3BbX_VIOyXKsluorvW0ODhXSi_o2OoyJFbOZKBhVNBkIvUTcQj7fXQjaAQfEmAh3UhW_bq1HE-MRPSWXsSL6Ns8lIPlCHqmawkhhdwJoZBIk4hjtHd6agxL3FehQkL3kbx2jhJnBoChcaQjZ_Q3oB0P8W1SmotBYcz3GMUJ3VLyPQrRfc/s3320/20230824_151521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3320" data-original-width="2117" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhyRUOuw7Z7nR3BbX_VIOyXKsluorvW0ODhXSi_o2OoyJFbOZKBhVNBkIvUTcQj7fXQjaAQfEmAh3UhW_bq1HE-MRPSWXsSL6Ns8lIPlCHqmawkhhdwJoZBIk4hjtHd6agxL3FehQkL3kbx2jhJnBoChcaQjZ_Q3oB0P8W1SmotBYcz3GMUJ3VLyPQrRfc/w255-h400/20230824_151521.jpg" width="255" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A esplanada já está pronta...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNgbN_Wt0WQTWjrHyjZlhbb4LOjR8t12EuH_X54eInWpp9XY2OD6XnzZ1MFlM41mfAMIahR7hbzsRq5sjL8DKftGOQkeqdw7VxzMCyHC1R1pUkMuPP7vwfDU5goHgo9eKTt-3pZub7yKdvzTOW_lhiep0J8YavL4wUTwG6ESH9nhM29A27ihyvPfAbyI/s4000/20230824_164740.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDNgbN_Wt0WQTWjrHyjZlhbb4LOjR8t12EuH_X54eInWpp9XY2OD6XnzZ1MFlM41mfAMIahR7hbzsRq5sjL8DKftGOQkeqdw7VxzMCyHC1R1pUkMuPP7vwfDU5goHgo9eKTt-3pZub7yKdvzTOW_lhiep0J8YavL4wUTwG6ESH9nhM29A27ihyvPfAbyI/w400-h225/20230824_164740.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O chá de menta</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No extremo deste dédalo de ruas antigas e movimentadas, a velha mesquita e universidade de Al-Azhar chama por mim. As mulheres não entram pela porta principal da mesquita, mas podem entrar por uma porta lateral, mesmo não sendo muçulmanas. Apenas temos de cobrir a cabeça e todo o corpo, e descalçar os sapatos. Assim mo explica uma adolescente de sorriso aberto, logo após a proverbial pergunta "De onde és?", desta vez em francês. Encantada por se ver entendida e conseguir comunicar, dá-me todas as indicações necessárias. Depois da entrada, há uma sala à esquerda onde uma mulher me pode dar um traje comprido que me permita entrar no espaço sagrado. E lá vou eu, ataviada como um frade capuchinho...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBJT5fnQ5f1pZH6xmK65CX1_FjvdrXMUHsSOYrePsas9lmyDRttbMWHiJQAV8eJ2gdRba4Si0l0J7z13a96Xqn6RPjCTmRv6M28hyjHq8FKb6eNSBnAI8ZM83FbXPDrwsMLHmYDE3dtCGK6jyJMVzCVbO30xgXljyFKCXSOf8lNVVkL9MjIPZQD0qlII/s3650/20230824_155300.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2215" data-original-width="3650" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWBJT5fnQ5f1pZH6xmK65CX1_FjvdrXMUHsSOYrePsas9lmyDRttbMWHiJQAV8eJ2gdRba4Si0l0J7z13a96Xqn6RPjCTmRv6M28hyjHq8FKb6eNSBnAI8ZM83FbXPDrwsMLHmYDE3dtCGK6jyJMVzCVbO30xgXljyFKCXSOf8lNVVkL9MjIPZQD0qlII/w400-h243/20230824_155300.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgXyt-qvMHm0nOrkzafJ4v4w-lylkPyV70_eM5PZwo0_n5DOKyOu_Dbkp0xq-dbV7DIqP_4W14vEH7_rGZINi1r1gIY62HoU51LGq5jfl0AoB6eaxjuP7iQdbffydyPTiPmWsrd1MduIItLW1_gvfxMVd7FsuJHNxg5opuI2h6CvAwRTOz5O_qy1UBD0/s4000/20230824_160030.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqgXyt-qvMHm0nOrkzafJ4v4w-lylkPyV70_eM5PZwo0_n5DOKyOu_Dbkp0xq-dbV7DIqP_4W14vEH7_rGZINi1r1gIY62HoU51LGq5jfl0AoB6eaxjuP7iQdbffydyPTiPmWsrd1MduIItLW1_gvfxMVd7FsuJHNxg5opuI2h6CvAwRTOz5O_qy1UBD0/w225-h400/20230824_160030.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A entrada da universidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A sala principal é muito grande e está cheia de gente. Há miúdos que brincam e correm de um lado para o outro. Mas a maioria das pessoas está reunida em pequenos grupos, que me parecem de discussão e aprendizagem religiosa. Há vários grupos de mulheres, sentadas em volta de mesas; parecem ser grupos de discussão, todos encabeçados por um homem, evidentemente... Também há vários grupos de crianças, principalmente rapazinhos, sentados em círculo no chão, que recitam o Corão orientados por um catequista, chamemos-lhe assim... </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Como eu gostava de compreender as suas conversas, as suas perguntas e respostas!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4igBVBZlpYI2atGvkBmjw7AMhV5O6SNsCqPiv-hZtxYhb4LMjJvgbLg7a8HKGQbWFEz-4xZ790_jv-LLLfBKb-450f6rwF5ZEXyKNwXIxNF-e0bSLxsxyIv23qD6RrMP4MJsA650AXMsUaM3zNtE2D8liH8fFlyL9Lt1JtAm9CW5uwaypoxkkeAvvv8/s4000/20230824_161345.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW4igBVBZlpYI2atGvkBmjw7AMhV5O6SNsCqPiv-hZtxYhb4LMjJvgbLg7a8HKGQbWFEz-4xZ790_jv-LLLfBKb-450f6rwF5ZEXyKNwXIxNF-e0bSLxsxyIv23qD6RrMP4MJsA650AXMsUaM3zNtE2D8liH8fFlyL9Lt1JtAm9CW5uwaypoxkkeAvvv8/w400-h225/20230824_161345.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Dentro da mesquita da universidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Ninguém nos incomodou ou questionou. Quando quisemos, entregámos os nossos atavios e saímos. Foi com algum alívio que me vi restituída ao meu eu ocidental, de jeans e t-shirt.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Saindo das ruelas estreitas do Cairo antigo para as ruas largas e modernas da zona mais nova da cidade, o caos continua, mas agora à escala rodoviária. Não parece haver qualquer preocupação com as regras de trânsito. Os automóveis e as motoretas enchem as ruas, avançando temerariamente, sempre a buzinar. As ruas são uma cacofonia de acelarações e buzinadelas!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96krVxDLMLWdL5BDD-qTYb_pR0dGg2zmhfUlAQSc3BAJlHJd0Cpvr6yZLuOAZZ1bVtJ8SGs6CSfS9zG34pW5xPLGks7WgdtCu4cA6f3RW_RLKZWFGqmfjnsLXen_-Jm1oAm6PPjWG3l6bgvcIi9OJyQwnIpmX2JAKWVuoPE1HfA5vrP9gyOeXiLgjJuw/s3809/20230824_171014.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2128" data-original-width="3809" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi96krVxDLMLWdL5BDD-qTYb_pR0dGg2zmhfUlAQSc3BAJlHJd0Cpvr6yZLuOAZZ1bVtJ8SGs6CSfS9zG34pW5xPLGks7WgdtCu4cA6f3RW_RLKZWFGqmfjnsLXen_-Jm1oAm6PPjWG3l6bgvcIi9OJyQwnIpmX2JAKWVuoPE1HfA5vrP9gyOeXiLgjJuw/w400-h224/20230824_171014.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Os elegantes minaretes da Universidade de Al-Azhar</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Pululam umas pequenas forgunetas brancas, que fazem serviço de transporte público. São às dezenas nos nós rodoviários, sem qualquer ordem ou sinalética. Eles lá se entendem, porque em lado nenhum há indicações de paragem ou destino. As motas também são às centenas, enfiando-se no meio do trânsito à custa de apitadelas. Podem levar dois, três, até quatro passageiros, todos sem capacete, pois claro! E, para ajudar à confusão, as mulheres andam sentadas de lado, à conta da decência e dos seus trajes compridos.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1RSiv01MqXimyWiW_XsI-IGfoCQ2Z4iM23IVgOTlJHHSquwbD8lXEl0KZagJshRPvQA6Q8J3p2HhX2wksKmKUTAewMpBcTeMB2XK0HMABoElw-aVPPquFY_SkKBTnIL2rJPLKYmh5rEh_GSetx3rbywLuvQXE0S3U3ZRi1d3QHDPk20OgRuYlRQPaMc/s794/20230823_181221.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="589" data-original-width="794" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU1RSiv01MqXimyWiW_XsI-IGfoCQ2Z4iM23IVgOTlJHHSquwbD8lXEl0KZagJshRPvQA6Q8J3p2HhX2wksKmKUTAewMpBcTeMB2XK0HMABoElw-aVPPquFY_SkKBTnIL2rJPLKYmh5rEh_GSetx3rbywLuvQXE0S3U3ZRi1d3QHDPk20OgRuYlRQPaMc/w400-h296/20230823_181221.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Será cómodo?</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O nosso hotel situava-se junto à Praça Tahrir, no centro do Cairo moderno, mas, mesmo assim, senti um medo genuíno de atravessar as ruas. Alguém me disse: "Há que entrar na estrada! Se chegar ao outro lado, tudo bem, se não, foi a vontade de Alá!" Mas este fatalismo muçulmano não me conforta...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVwaEdL2Qd6P4kwpaunoojNUQ8xMLJzHfFp1B8kVGSHcICg8C1h7_61toA1_YQpQ5WiJKDprFbPmHSymgOHqR1buEbNACG-OgJqjoBqrzfnkYqeAFHw2V8NzuJe8UTkZf-IWZn_1wi7cs44DmmRhQew_8aO_WpMsx2mtXUj5CTEy0ZP8gIVUpbIMTgMc/s2987/20230823_181409.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1744" data-original-width="2987" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtVwaEdL2Qd6P4kwpaunoojNUQ8xMLJzHfFp1B8kVGSHcICg8C1h7_61toA1_YQpQ5WiJKDprFbPmHSymgOHqR1buEbNACG-OgJqjoBqrzfnkYqeAFHw2V8NzuJe8UTkZf-IWZn_1wi7cs44DmmRhQew_8aO_WpMsx2mtXUj5CTEy0ZP8gIVUpbIMTgMc/w400-h234/20230823_181409.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O velho Museu do Cairo, na Praça Tahrir</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Também andámos à volta do hotel à procura de uma esplanada onde pudessemos relaxar um pouco e beber uma cerveja fresca. Que ideia tresloucada! Estamos num país muçulmano; podemos fumar o kif, mas não podemos beber cerveja!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUim_I2fp8PT_wQ38Z2xLeI0Moje-RL8Gm6bKFsGj6dE0L2hsrW7zbto5K49KYwcmKEHIyjfAdZttCQ5hITh8ihao339UqWBgCkonQ5h4ir3sozcmGQNLIaBCiu5EMSjrMBkO_e0YG7aU1vCPDPz4O_9CT27bHc4df2C29J8QGsunkuQmt5AzkkSowBC0/s2873/20230824_153849.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2873" data-original-width="1944" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUim_I2fp8PT_wQ38Z2xLeI0Moje-RL8Gm6bKFsGj6dE0L2hsrW7zbto5K49KYwcmKEHIyjfAdZttCQ5hITh8ihao339UqWBgCkonQ5h4ir3sozcmGQNLIaBCiu5EMSjrMBkO_e0YG7aU1vCPDPz4O_9CT27bHc4df2C29J8QGsunkuQmt5AzkkSowBC0/w271-h400/20230824_153849.jpg" width="271" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Vida de gato...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-70696499302258276692024-01-22T17:03:00.002+00:002024-01-22T17:03:54.030+00:00Alexandria é uma cidade para ver ao longe...<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjhd_4kPPSzXFQ1KG_AuGi-axMTByPjMSIEUwOWbZP0fbJzCADTpP-uZLS3izJI91cwvHLIBPc_3slPRbDtpQRHtWjSl60uMEd9nqn1HF4PC3vxv-ftZt71Ry-VMzJe6IOmhc5NUyh5nXnMMc6S2v1bPgXDeeZxLGvGZObaRFyxQuD5FjN5QHuGtxRvU/s3062/20230822_151523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2033" data-original-width="3062" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMjhd_4kPPSzXFQ1KG_AuGi-axMTByPjMSIEUwOWbZP0fbJzCADTpP-uZLS3izJI91cwvHLIBPc_3slPRbDtpQRHtWjSl60uMEd9nqn1HF4PC3vxv-ftZt71Ry-VMzJe6IOmhc5NUyh5nXnMMc6S2v1bPgXDeeZxLGvGZObaRFyxQuD5FjN5QHuGtxRvU/w400-h265/20230822_151523.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Onde está o farol de Alexandria?</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Pela manhã, quando se vê Alexandria ao longe, refletida no
lago Mareótis, surge-nos como uma imagem quase feérica. Nada mais falso!...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6c-KIVfqoof7-VUdlWzaTvWtqOTifYXw0RVsku4Blep5np6X-37RQndktN-Z9HUGkTED3TnsA6Y-OQ1E99yhdaFuou2lostg3nfuWt4Mjjo9rFcr5NoHXudF5HGr4a7b0tYgxLzomwYd59W318700MTsMVd6N9qv-gWHuYAPcqhcCQ5B8Fz0yzWVKFQ/s2483/20230822_095912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1305" data-original-width="2483" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJ6c-KIVfqoof7-VUdlWzaTvWtqOTifYXw0RVsku4Blep5np6X-37RQndktN-Z9HUGkTED3TnsA6Y-OQ1E99yhdaFuou2lostg3nfuWt4Mjjo9rFcr5NoHXudF5HGr4a7b0tYgxLzomwYd59W318700MTsMVd6N9qv-gWHuYAPcqhcCQ5B8Fz0yzWVKFQ/w400-h210/20230822_095912.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Alexandria refletida nas águas do lago Mareótis</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Quando penetramos no âmago da cidade, o que se revela é o
lado caótico e degradado. Mesmo na bela “corniche”, a avenida marginal que
corre ao lado do mar mediterrâneo, a maioria dos prédios mostra que os tempos
do esplendor já lá vão há muito... Há ainda belas fachadas, mas todas mostram
sinais de degradação. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HABYUQXymSsfXgJTWp5qvvTRIFpCU7LNz10tJFsXtBLytUYDE2ix9-9lub7-1DjQ684twZQhDAHlTYLbQa6fru1m_Fae0Rdxwwbta8fLUvQKidjgjljmv0_GdouJ5RSDiGS6-Aw-7QvJRBI-Hz7O871zHYcHvqOt4d9SejTyt7gJdptB2dg7cIlq3AQ/s4000/20230822_150106.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj4HABYUQXymSsfXgJTWp5qvvTRIFpCU7LNz10tJFsXtBLytUYDE2ix9-9lub7-1DjQ684twZQhDAHlTYLbQa6fru1m_Fae0Rdxwwbta8fLUvQKidjgjljmv0_GdouJ5RSDiGS6-Aw-7QvJRBI-Hz7O871zHYcHvqOt4d9SejTyt7gJdptB2dg7cIlq3AQ/w400-h225/20230822_150106.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNoXLzIh3ruxa931AWBovPWLqlHRE8izr8pkyoDEphyd2WA6SQTFwEnqW3rDjnzCBSEKYL9fmhD6xr4uLrHa2i8nA9v51TnntziGpj-ozEciAE4FYhcpZeZ8NIJnbjKYLIp_KfKmPlZ1_srzRpx00yhZgKvMd82_LbvoP8kfAm2ZzG_9KD5S5MJZeA8k/s4000/20230822_153355.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnNoXLzIh3ruxa931AWBovPWLqlHRE8izr8pkyoDEphyd2WA6SQTFwEnqW3rDjnzCBSEKYL9fmhD6xr4uLrHa2i8nA9v51TnntziGpj-ozEciAE4FYhcpZeZ8NIJnbjKYLIp_KfKmPlZ1_srzRpx00yhZgKvMd82_LbvoP8kfAm2ZzG_9KD5S5MJZeA8k/w400-h225/20230822_153355.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A <i>corniche</i>, a bela avenida marginal de Alexandria</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Muitos edifícios parecem abandonados. Há pedaços de
cimento a cair, bocados de janelas ou varandas que faltam e ninguém parece
preocupado com reparações. Por toda a zona central da cidade, há espaços onde
os edifícios caíram em ruínas e hoje estão apenas ocupados por entulho e lixo,
muito lixo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffi-Cuz-x8gDS5uhwToebTRcvuHZ1nwfD16rUqAFYjEZHWBdeATiKROq_AoIUebWZxT9ZLHFkSNdMsFpZ6uwDPCtrGV69swFaLIc5TOYHWRBCdxAAVU0SvJbXGO2AkZ6Wld4CtPvSqXHLX1qbzcJUYGIs2V_xwjgPc6Ce9tLLPOZNYaUu4kTEsg1rt-4/s4000/20230822_103423.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjffi-Cuz-x8gDS5uhwToebTRcvuHZ1nwfD16rUqAFYjEZHWBdeATiKROq_AoIUebWZxT9ZLHFkSNdMsFpZ6uwDPCtrGV69swFaLIc5TOYHWRBCdxAAVU0SvJbXGO2AkZ6Wld4CtPvSqXHLX1qbzcJUYGIs2V_xwjgPc6Ce9tLLPOZNYaUu4kTEsg1rt-4/w400-h225/20230822_103423.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YuNCvCiMGbc7vuzl_-PZnmy1PhTuwMjZfr4jLTvM_Cl1Y-MZ06r9M3t-dK1IeG3UAT875OdXxkHpK0SzWFauZ1LdNYLxyinJ-ZFKd8YWwKlITD4BvEev5UlQ32f-3GYRZgeYFLQP3uI6w0DQiD6PtCkSgX2tzfBJAGC8_f3uK6_W3H5iNdjRArrcsiI/s4000/20230822_103425.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_YuNCvCiMGbc7vuzl_-PZnmy1PhTuwMjZfr4jLTvM_Cl1Y-MZ06r9M3t-dK1IeG3UAT875OdXxkHpK0SzWFauZ1LdNYLxyinJ-ZFKd8YWwKlITD4BvEev5UlQ32f-3GYRZgeYFLQP3uI6w0DQiD6PtCkSgX2tzfBJAGC8_f3uK6_W3H5iNdjRArrcsiI/w400-h225/20230822_103425.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>Pelo meio das ruínas e edifícios degradados, e talvez
indiferentes a eles, há gente que se afadiga, a comprar e a vender, a
sobreviver... Aqui, como no Cairo, tudo se compra e tudo se vende. Há muitas
bancas de roupa, nova e usada. Há antiguidades egípcias duvidosas, papiros
falsificados, amuletos de gesso. A todo o momento tentam meter-nos coisas nas
mãos, ou à frente dos olhos. Se paramos a olhar, somos apanhados numa rede
interminável que alterna pressão com negociação. Às vezes, compra-se qualquer coisa,
só por cansaço... </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Um dos negócios que parece mais florescente é o de pedaços de
automóveis. Sim, são só pedaços: volantes, jantes, pára-brisas... às vezes, são
as metades dianteiras ou traseiras de um automóvel, inteirinhas! Com tempo e
habilidade, consegue-se construir um automóvel inteiro com aqueles pedaços e
muitos dos que circulam são com certeza resultados destas reconstruções.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXKPQ-nuuE7nyJ5WDr3j0CtjijchUs7kljNd1-zzNhEIyEuB6TiB2htWHVOyq5F1unNxWJx-nx1-4LMOn6ug-bM6Xc1uSmBg7trTvYhO7M6Sf660Vkn-DjCBGML99C4wQXWWufkc35h3L-HO9hpjOLr243S0XzEBM7Fs7W4H8iJZtVb4tX_i0SfNw454/s4000/20230822_113027.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcXKPQ-nuuE7nyJ5WDr3j0CtjijchUs7kljNd1-zzNhEIyEuB6TiB2htWHVOyq5F1unNxWJx-nx1-4LMOn6ug-bM6Xc1uSmBg7trTvYhO7M6Sf660Vkn-DjCBGML99C4wQXWWufkc35h3L-HO9hpjOLr243S0XzEBM7Fs7W4H8iJZtVb4tX_i0SfNw454/w400-h225/20230822_113027.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas nem toda a gente se afadiga com qualquer coisa. Há os
que, logo pela manhã, se recostam nos cafés, a bebericar o café turco mas,
principalmente, a fumar os seus narguilés. Meia dúzia de cadeiras à volta de
uma mesa ou um divã coberto com uma manta velha bastam para umas horas de
tranquilo esquecimento do mundo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtkhkfODdxGiVog93HaIueBIWDK4tyC77H9v7z1_w40GPD5RVy4Zgv-ejK5Jf3FK_7Y5w8CcGYxgg26ggGU66jd2xXZO-uPM96tpjPDa3PDmzJmKQYrs3LnST-J11vooznS2D3dQlNOyDpHbEuyX1GGXDopVdkh9P5x7UX2UDkDMtN5bRikdQ5j-fQ_0/s4000/20230822_112407.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivtkhkfODdxGiVog93HaIueBIWDK4tyC77H9v7z1_w40GPD5RVy4Zgv-ejK5Jf3FK_7Y5w8CcGYxgg26ggGU66jd2xXZO-uPM96tpjPDa3PDmzJmKQYrs3LnST-J11vooznS2D3dQlNOyDpHbEuyX1GGXDopVdkh9P5x7UX2UDkDMtN5bRikdQ5j-fQ_0/w400-h225/20230822_112407.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A coluna de Pompeu</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Alexandria foi fundada por Alexandre Magno, é um produto
helenístico, por isso nada aqui se encontra do que se espera encontrar no
Egito: os vestígios do esplendor faraónico. Mas teve os seus tempos de glória,
quando chegou a ser a maior cidade do mundo antigo. Deles, pouco resta. Uma
coluna de Pompeu, que não foi construída por Pompeu. Uma Agulha de Cleópatra,
que afinal era um obelisco e nada tinha a ver com Cleópatra. Um farol
magnífico, uma das Sete Maravilhas do mundo antigo, do qual só resta a base, integrada
numa fortificação turca, a fortaleza de Qait Bey. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmH1ez9Rer8pT8OcNO3MYdGEhWSTjY2XdlwAVku4IZdbM0Z4vFGDgOsdGy8hZbJN09cOh5LjKDd1UKWKMd4ewYjL81QhadZv5rvpMp7RSdgBdOnwWf6AqcH6Cpb4XIcOu1k4FAXphjsLsfkg07nAjf-cdrMmTR9ofN2iAmfA9OFTplxwOJm96r5qemfAY/s4000/20230822_151059.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmH1ez9Rer8pT8OcNO3MYdGEhWSTjY2XdlwAVku4IZdbM0Z4vFGDgOsdGy8hZbJN09cOh5LjKDd1UKWKMd4ewYjL81QhadZv5rvpMp7RSdgBdOnwWf6AqcH6Cpb4XIcOu1k4FAXphjsLsfkg07nAjf-cdrMmTR9ofN2iAmfA9OFTplxwOJm96r5qemfAY/w400-h225/20230822_151059.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickVBaELvAfakYyYmF1m8BobhDvI2bcFAuMnuSneyHJK3QAnHmN5uFbcP1n9DzyU1vgQrmpuoY4LayRihUl0YjoJahFetP4emTYpu2L6h-zveWE_JcQBNYVfdXDxb86S1Sl6W-GnFlBGHiXmnyaP7Uq5acld4WfYlqtShFGd85xuODqSaz5wYGbKaJH4M/s3062/20230822_151523.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2033" data-original-width="3062" height="265" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEickVBaELvAfakYyYmF1m8BobhDvI2bcFAuMnuSneyHJK3QAnHmN5uFbcP1n9DzyU1vgQrmpuoY4LayRihUl0YjoJahFetP4emTYpu2L6h-zveWE_JcQBNYVfdXDxb86S1Sl6W-GnFlBGHiXmnyaP7Uq5acld4WfYlqtShFGd85xuODqSaz5wYGbKaJH4M/w400-h265/20230822_151523.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A fortaleza de Qait Bey, ou o que resta do Farol de Alexandria</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">E a grande biblioteca, o maior centro de saber do mundo antigo, diligentemente destruída pelo tempo e pelos incêndios, com o auxílio dos fanáticos cristãos ou muçulmanos. </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Uma nova biblioteca ergue-se no lugar da antiga. É um
edifício esplêndido, concebido e construído por um consórcio de arquitetos
noruegueses. Assemelha-se a um disco voador, mas está repleta de símbolos do
conhecimento. No largo fronteiro, uma velha estátua que dizem representar
Demétrio de Falera, o homem que concebeu este grande centro de produção e
armazenamento de conhecimento, nos tempos de Ptolomeu I.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1Ue0joyJN201YzN4PmvHwLngVsqkbn9ZnDZmahv_w71OwLu6R-TKW4BDrXSK8qSOtwYk_Vr-M7NOqddgdXFFRICwmD4OdouePiUz36ZmltLzAs83gTipmIR9BoY9ob9H9SXInggmDXB5QoYBJ2QBItZXAe834NzHm8RUnqjxESaAjEv0TsGM5m2rBmQ/s4000/20230822_115017.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgW1Ue0joyJN201YzN4PmvHwLngVsqkbn9ZnDZmahv_w71OwLu6R-TKW4BDrXSK8qSOtwYk_Vr-M7NOqddgdXFFRICwmD4OdouePiUz36ZmltLzAs83gTipmIR9BoY9ob9H9SXInggmDXB5QoYBJ2QBItZXAe834NzHm8RUnqjxESaAjEv0TsGM5m2rBmQ/w400-h225/20230822_115017.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiv9bxoo_qVK9C7fp2SJmeRkymiE29EyvY5fC4QuIQ0jwKu3OOKh4d6tKti_Wf3it3yvxUH43-NigUJ4mjdgS3P7cePS6IrhmkXrxTPloMvNt9ZqfeLugxzdY2BifpiDH0yYSDBNm2rOZlV4dojmJle0MKEBJOxj8XhWQPMj13sXq5QAzVVqgAvs4Bcs/s3043/20230822_114959.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3043" data-original-width="1924" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwiv9bxoo_qVK9C7fp2SJmeRkymiE29EyvY5fC4QuIQ0jwKu3OOKh4d6tKti_Wf3it3yvxUH43-NigUJ4mjdgS3P7cePS6IrhmkXrxTPloMvNt9ZqfeLugxzdY2BifpiDH0yYSDBNm2rOZlV4dojmJle0MKEBJOxj8XhWQPMj13sXq5QAzVVqgAvs4Bcs/w253-h400/20230822_114959.jpg" width="253" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Penetro na nova Biblioteca de Alexandria com reverência. O
espaço é amplo e agradável, segmentado por áreas de conhecimento, tal como o
concebeu Calímaco, o seu organizador. Muitos países contribuíram para o acervo
da Biblioteca, no nosso caso foi a Fundação Calouste Gulbenkian que para ali
levou os Camões e os Fernandos Pessoas, como seria de esperar.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GFQXY5n40UxYxW2Pd7O0qhBy-dx6HfRyBNpkx2UgQawWpAh5ZVuwkAEKg_IjVb72APIYJzpWqpNWOYkqGir-4GTUTH4smQqyERXyXytg6-7IHZ0A_qn4MxuQ-JmuIZPRZPRAo-Z7klReJhogfVtXNARSHP6QpgDNsCfbM-rUbN3-h6yW-K8dYvbLGtM/s4000/20230822_115825.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GFQXY5n40UxYxW2Pd7O0qhBy-dx6HfRyBNpkx2UgQawWpAh5ZVuwkAEKg_IjVb72APIYJzpWqpNWOYkqGir-4GTUTH4smQqyERXyXytg6-7IHZ0A_qn4MxuQ-JmuIZPRZPRAo-Z7klReJhogfVtXNARSHP6QpgDNsCfbM-rUbN3-h6yW-K8dYvbLGtM/w400-h225/20230822_115825.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tento encontrar as obras portuguesas, mas não é tarefa fácil
e distraio-me a observar os frequentadores. Há jovens espalhados pelas mesas, a
ler ou simplesmente a manusear os telemóveis. Procuro aproximar-me, para ver o
que estão a estudar. Há uma rapariga que me olha sorridente, com as mãos
pousadas sobre um grande maço de apontamentos. Pergunto-lhe “What are you
studying?” mas ela não compreende e mostra-me os apontamentos, em caligrafia
árabe. Agora, sou eu que não compreendo. Na mesa ao lado, o sorriso rasgado de
um rapaz, que vim a saber ser professor de árabe. “Where are you from?” A
eterna pergunta, mil vezes ouvida e repetida, na tentativa de compreender um
pouco o outro, integrando-o num ponto identificável no espaço. </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Nós somos assim, gostamos de conhecer os outros, dar de nós e
aprender com o que nos rodeia. Assim os seres humanos como as civilizações...</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvqY5-YbIvmJf41TdwIudO459jmDlurnj51GDKHRA1ZA5RwT8j9IR3Gy_Me7ENaVqoMrbFfthIYsnqgnUtv-953oqXjHqRAqRLM416xEhAj3wY9qv2QvtROFM2_YKxgQHtQDWsNx3hxnL62UQJQXrxfi5yScQQN3VBswAsudrFzyCtNQ6NJ3G038htCc/s2371/20230822_115200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1580" data-original-width="2371" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqvqY5-YbIvmJf41TdwIudO459jmDlurnj51GDKHRA1ZA5RwT8j9IR3Gy_Me7ENaVqoMrbFfthIYsnqgnUtv-953oqXjHqRAqRLM416xEhAj3wY9qv2QvtROFM2_YKxgQHtQDWsNx3hxnL62UQJQXrxfi5yScQQN3VBswAsudrFzyCtNQ6NJ3G038htCc/w400-h266/20230822_115200.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Um local interessante na cidade de Alexandria são as
catacumbas de Kom Chukafa. Datam dos tempos greco-romanos e aí os cristãos
fizeram as suas cerimónias de culto e as suas inumações. Durante centenas de
anos. Mas o passado e as suas formas de adoração teimam em permanecer,
agregando símbolos, criando novos significados, prolongando o passado no
presente. Ali nas catacumbas, continuam a aparecer as imagens dos velhos deuses
egípcios, por vezes em sincretismos inesperados. É o caso de uma escultura do deus
Sobek, com um saiote de legionário romano!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatsFnRlKeEQVTGrq54aPkBVa18KwhQmX1yvZh1mvN_Z31PbHEccX_jan2J8sf485zaOoG0hL9tBRl13P2p1x4TMxkbPTejdwma71hbIwlHZJBxim3mA9tzlWwoMNYlnNWNB_mqXe3s3-AtGxxJ8YJkAA8nbPk5NlHXKqLXcKCIbdfm5dvBoCrarFNLZk/s4000/20230822_105725.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjatsFnRlKeEQVTGrq54aPkBVa18KwhQmX1yvZh1mvN_Z31PbHEccX_jan2J8sf485zaOoG0hL9tBRl13P2p1x4TMxkbPTejdwma71hbIwlHZJBxim3mA9tzlWwoMNYlnNWNB_mqXe3s3-AtGxxJ8YJkAA8nbPk5NlHXKqLXcKCIbdfm5dvBoCrarFNLZk/w400-h225/20230822_105725.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFO8XXfC-dJg8NTcIXsXXTKXcvGSIU8a3AFpteGRLcNfq6EjK_TG8GpHOo7fjNcecZ2aUkMXZIUclhqGtA4g7TZGQ2eT4UXg8HJairpZe332myfNM6GPxXF-y9pVMzUGdgwzzbwyhlSFyQlom5218HGGcSsv32p6ZpPe7Orjey4NJTKyt39o8AKNOE6bY/s4000/20230822_110352.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFO8XXfC-dJg8NTcIXsXXTKXcvGSIU8a3AFpteGRLcNfq6EjK_TG8GpHOo7fjNcecZ2aUkMXZIUclhqGtA4g7TZGQ2eT4UXg8HJairpZe332myfNM6GPxXF-y9pVMzUGdgwzzbwyhlSFyQlom5218HGGcSsv32p6ZpPe7Orjey4NJTKyt39o8AKNOE6bY/w225-h400/20230822_110352.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiac-LiDflRy6oMWQoZ8rNneHigs-u3J7JL0Safi3gxgQpgOhx143J2rhVwJNP__f9-p3eVbmCW-x6xQ6q-SgVkSawufaIunqRrQfiGv-o_EGVMcx2fFDtp-RBHb9Wu3bavvwKeXzRFJZwPKwmJWsb5hScNElrVyot96SFp3i5Wxl8SW2_U_9bA4gsSbBk/s4000/20230822_110041.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiac-LiDflRy6oMWQoZ8rNneHigs-u3J7JL0Safi3gxgQpgOhx143J2rhVwJNP__f9-p3eVbmCW-x6xQ6q-SgVkSawufaIunqRrQfiGv-o_EGVMcx2fFDtp-RBHb9Wu3bavvwKeXzRFJZwPKwmJWsb5hScNElrVyot96SFp3i5Wxl8SW2_U_9bA4gsSbBk/w400-h225/20230822_110041.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Almoçámos no restaurante San Giovanni, ao lado de uma
movimentada praia na <i>corniche</i>. Os banhistas sentam-se em cadeiras de plástico
brancas, de esplanada, debaixo de guarda-sóis amarelos. As crianças brincam,
como em todo o lado, entre a areia e as ondas suaves do mar. As mulheres também
vão à água, cobertas da cabeça aos pés. Elas
conversam e riem, mas nada mais se consegue destrinçar. Tal como a cidade, elas
também não são para ver de perto.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJwVV0xWwjvWU1dv_SDY1NNQTXirE5xh-B3-b73bJNNHjxVClMOwk2HqInDI5qaFSJurbP9nAGivAgQbPVWebev3-TfMEWyWhMlpfQbvg4eAMKQnFLDt5ip4_arDTsO4vHC20iFP7UMbw8qaSmb5uKlof3wcj4Wz0M3eDT4erYDfd1eb4h0cxPDgO-ec/s4000/20230822_143026.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBJwVV0xWwjvWU1dv_SDY1NNQTXirE5xh-B3-b73bJNNHjxVClMOwk2HqInDI5qaFSJurbP9nAGivAgQbPVWebev3-TfMEWyWhMlpfQbvg4eAMKQnFLDt5ip4_arDTsO4vHC20iFP7UMbw8qaSmb5uKlof3wcj4Wz0M3eDT4erYDfd1eb4h0cxPDgO-ec/w225-h400/20230822_143026.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_qlTD3wd4IMJLx5alNbhu0-41DcWvcWPAxjytC5dcgY5IiyZhAJfkjcxE-g6WI6X-bweT2f81LC0DIeSxU25kT0rI5-zDUbIhewalU2CccwO2mngS-wmoQ1y2BNxfDwZyjQ_DArbj7AfijbTBNt_9fEtuzV842FL3c3DHSZhf5l8z5CTOVevPtlvrLWA/s4000/20230822_130918.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_qlTD3wd4IMJLx5alNbhu0-41DcWvcWPAxjytC5dcgY5IiyZhAJfkjcxE-g6WI6X-bweT2f81LC0DIeSxU25kT0rI5-zDUbIhewalU2CccwO2mngS-wmoQ1y2BNxfDwZyjQ_DArbj7AfijbTBNt_9fEtuzV842FL3c3DHSZhf5l8z5CTOVevPtlvrLWA/w400-h225/20230822_130918.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;">Uma praia na </span><i style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: small;">corniche</i></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-25176041882218502322023-06-20T12:42:00.000+01:002023-06-20T12:42:47.047+01:00Schwerin e arredores<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIEBMcOw5s7bKB66ROZjrK9FXisKuNSH8AoeL6mMn2cg5lDS2Ra8_3ILjTgaOMmZYETchbbPx-sfuoJt4g3QBv_RxSlfYJx0N7cX_HcWg7e1pIO9A4iZDCLs186FelLoHokf5xC5I9YzsBdQBqisZ_6LWPmZ9lwltZfcpXoDC0vYhGfZWhKZBxiqCGpU0/s3831/20220809_105235.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2155" data-original-width="3831" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIEBMcOw5s7bKB66ROZjrK9FXisKuNSH8AoeL6mMn2cg5lDS2Ra8_3ILjTgaOMmZYETchbbPx-sfuoJt4g3QBv_RxSlfYJx0N7cX_HcWg7e1pIO9A4iZDCLs186FelLoHokf5xC5I9YzsBdQBqisZ_6LWPmZ9lwltZfcpXoDC0vYhGfZWhKZBxiqCGpU0/w400-h225/20220809_105235.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">O Castelo de Schwerin</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A
pequena cidade de Schwerin, no norte da Alemanha, é hoje a capital do estado de
Mecklemburgo-Pomerânea Ocidental. É uma cidade tranquila, à beira do lago de
Schwerin. As ruas descem suavemente para uma praça rodeada pelo Teatro
Municipal e outros edifícios administrativos. Tem um ar de vagarosa opulência.
Por momentos, podemos imaginar-nos na Alemanha imperial do início do século XX.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4h-pGv_0kd8mPOJGIGUejGYhZawZP8pyFntnFBL2rrvnRSA13OgldfOemKvYNFtMhSZ4YrfF7lrc11MX9wZvgcn8f9V39pwE_6oW6_5icO11m-ygs9rMltqxuOdtkcBg6-mRkv9wbZsO0eR0W5DM7OmiLlgbNDDHYaqiiMU1apqQjbLKraZLXf8rOls/s4000/20220809_114219.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjk4h-pGv_0kd8mPOJGIGUejGYhZawZP8pyFntnFBL2rrvnRSA13OgldfOemKvYNFtMhSZ4YrfF7lrc11MX9wZvgcn8f9V39pwE_6oW6_5icO11m-ygs9rMltqxuOdtkcBg6-mRkv9wbZsO0eR0W5DM7OmiLlgbNDDHYaqiiMU1apqQjbLKraZLXf8rOls/w400-h225/20220809_114219.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">A cidade de Schwerin, junto ao lago com o mesmo nome</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGH0S-2fpfS0Aa5Ni-_CzbzxnwkDYbycDuYkC9wibhirxHiKB6S_pjxL8y_Yt6dw-c7rT6Old4iWFmeuB6ivST5lJGboiuRzuWoeJx5av4C7di5J35G4tykM4xR5Skaj7hIqvg55S4jVWVivFWrDf4iP59O2urmg83PT6gJoqay0Qp3Zl2Hp9DNH1614/s4000/20220809_114200.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLGH0S-2fpfS0Aa5Ni-_CzbzxnwkDYbycDuYkC9wibhirxHiKB6S_pjxL8y_Yt6dw-c7rT6Old4iWFmeuB6ivST5lJGboiuRzuWoeJx5av4C7di5J35G4tykM4xR5Skaj7hIqvg55S4jVWVivFWrDf4iP59O2urmg83PT6gJoqay0Qp3Zl2Hp9DNH1614/w400-h225/20220809_114200.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit45U4f1zaUzVdm1LimPB8DGobSk9Kio92MbB3qbDJK1TK_8eXDjq_NcZQNd7YsjcsE1tTb_SGm_LJL5IMVSihIssrRPWMmQA1pfvPeBJVo6UopY6P4PDOTUr1bonSM7XLI8WCxqCy695hhn-z6xAcm6_eGiQaXanmwgslEfjuKfqWzcyUva8mQLEs6ag/s3478/20220809_105542.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2007" data-original-width="3478" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEit45U4f1zaUzVdm1LimPB8DGobSk9Kio92MbB3qbDJK1TK_8eXDjq_NcZQNd7YsjcsE1tTb_SGm_LJL5IMVSihIssrRPWMmQA1pfvPeBJVo6UopY6P4PDOTUr1bonSM7XLI8WCxqCy695hhn-z6xAcm6_eGiQaXanmwgslEfjuKfqWzcyUva8mQLEs6ag/w400-h231/20220809_105542.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Se
voltarmos as costas à praça e olharmos na direção do lago, a nossa impressão
imaginária acentua-se, porque deparamos com um dos castelos mais bonitos que já
visitei: o Castelo de Schwerin. Surge como uma miragem, numa ilha, no meio do
lago.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEmXS4HDcbWI8aHnc-RoffC2tFer0_Sv7GGeCREbP3_O2AZNVkQnIiQ-jnFrO-K-CUsnL__N8Vrzk5vf5svdf-vmGc9z4N_GvXSJiqf1z4YJxtpkPvfRJO034MtrDXP8FtpeKlYiHpMU7fxqgEKpkIFDVNRP_h-ydLy-XL1ZcSzuQ4Ezk0j_J0flP4Hk/s3227/20220809_112743.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1962" data-original-width="3227" height="244" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHEmXS4HDcbWI8aHnc-RoffC2tFer0_Sv7GGeCREbP3_O2AZNVkQnIiQ-jnFrO-K-CUsnL__N8Vrzk5vf5svdf-vmGc9z4N_GvXSJiqf1z4YJxtpkPvfRJO034MtrDXP8FtpeKlYiHpMU7fxqgEKpkIFDVNRP_h-ydLy-XL1ZcSzuQ4Ezk0j_J0flP4Hk/w400-h244/20220809_112743.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">A magnífica entrada do castelo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Construído
no século XII, no local onde já se encontrava uma fortificação de uma tribo
eslava, desde cedo se afirmou como um local de defesa e um espaço de poder. Depois
de ter passado por várias funções (durante a Segunda Guerra Mundial, serviu até
de maternidade), hoje está ocupado pelo Parlamento Regional do
Mecklemburgo-Pomerânea. </span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRh75wCPSvkLKhep-7zYkDsrFNjXl8r6aSQqEIv3DHiuUabhwRMei7qPogrg-f-9IuOLBCXYi59IxJhZMJt15SjyNtvA47-2b5YZ1FJ11yQxpJLRBhXGS509U-jyO4tCQnAhVMw34J0Er_RRCAP5SiEY2y7adEFSDbxHcsqmIz6DCDW6sbUAxKzlwI0zM/s4000/20220809_112843.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRh75wCPSvkLKhep-7zYkDsrFNjXl8r6aSQqEIv3DHiuUabhwRMei7qPogrg-f-9IuOLBCXYi59IxJhZMJt15SjyNtvA47-2b5YZ1FJ11yQxpJLRBhXGS509U-jyO4tCQnAhVMw34J0Er_RRCAP5SiEY2y7adEFSDbxHcsqmIz6DCDW6sbUAxKzlwI0zM/w225-h400/20220809_112843.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Inscritos na base da coluna, os nomes dos habitantes de Schwerin que morreram <br />pelo Império Alemão na Primeira Guerra Mundial</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2D5arncoDQHFaNF_I9J_avM4H29i0cCw9bCU_EiG1F5WjF3yXG3XpPfCc1tBqGSinL46xaB2V4w7yFBiYr1RhF8exhSa4CSHFRyLizFETnoQJsTfRBbi9TJprbS-KcW7RPJTEmSghMHTXHyAjhkD9Omprwj_y9dg6pnAroU1GdwdEUJD70PDJ7Kl4mYs/s4000/20220809_113330.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2D5arncoDQHFaNF_I9J_avM4H29i0cCw9bCU_EiG1F5WjF3yXG3XpPfCc1tBqGSinL46xaB2V4w7yFBiYr1RhF8exhSa4CSHFRyLizFETnoQJsTfRBbi9TJprbS-KcW7RPJTEmSghMHTXHyAjhkD9Omprwj_y9dg6pnAroU1GdwdEUJD70PDJ7Kl4mYs/w400-h225/20220809_113330.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Dois cavalos monumentais flanqueiam a entrada da ponte que conduz ao castelo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O
conde Niklot, cuja grande estátua domina a fachada, é o responsável pela
construção do castelo, em 1160. Depois, foi sofrendo aumentos e reconstruções,
até à grande remodelação do século XIX, que lhe dá o aspeto atual. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GR_sBfEfLwaekckqhzrkMd5BhcsJtuqHsEVChW87SXNetbsKgHF7FLqMrSWiU_JRXzYStANqYYXW64siauMqGFkVYipDu1xTn9xOkOM-jjqZ_4EhQhFo5nQG221skIlKzLIV_ry10PY65pBCUvsgPp2lw35CYXJmeLJneaTxIPsGk-oYg2WwiCzy0NA/s4000/20220809_113809.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8GR_sBfEfLwaekckqhzrkMd5BhcsJtuqHsEVChW87SXNetbsKgHF7FLqMrSWiU_JRXzYStANqYYXW64siauMqGFkVYipDu1xTn9xOkOM-jjqZ_4EhQhFo5nQG221skIlKzLIV_ry10PY65pBCUvsgPp2lw35CYXJmeLJneaTxIPsGk-oYg2WwiCzy0NA/w225-h400/20220809_113809.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">A fachada do castelo...</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3n212aVGHmPnFOLOWkoPWFp2VLfd8rd1JMXR90GS4ERbhsPTqC0uxTKleYKco5W-3nFovRZbz7PGvnVy_1PPm9JQUf8iq8xUJfzL1rJUjqZCJKBXFb4Vvm49P5dqI9GpcSGxIbH3W9yK5FyiZF8CNfibZUC2aASnae4Cqe9ECHI9hqjRGp3-BW5ylgw/s4000/20220809_120400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB3n212aVGHmPnFOLOWkoPWFp2VLfd8rd1JMXR90GS4ERbhsPTqC0uxTKleYKco5W-3nFovRZbz7PGvnVy_1PPm9JQUf8iq8xUJfzL1rJUjqZCJKBXFb4Vvm49P5dqI9GpcSGxIbH3W9yK5FyiZF8CNfibZUC2aASnae4Cqe9ECHI9hqjRGp3-BW5ylgw/w400-h225/20220809_120400.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">... e as traseiras, frente ao lago</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39sBXo10YFXYdtBHwC3Sevx7q1qgBFrU77gjxDewQwsCQZ-8bmf72eca5egkQ-S5TXkOf-6sHF6bH-bp5oQ8iYsF20GGit9t0yI7s54GdUYoiaQa-qkRbfER9grv9fsiBiRrsJXV7_HlcufxXLrlqSmGTaTwA5zrjafMQS6UCgb3Xp3ZND7hqWHogbO0/s4000/20220809_120451.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi39sBXo10YFXYdtBHwC3Sevx7q1qgBFrU77gjxDewQwsCQZ-8bmf72eca5egkQ-S5TXkOf-6sHF6bH-bp5oQ8iYsF20GGit9t0yI7s54GdUYoiaQa-qkRbfER9grv9fsiBiRrsJXV7_HlcufxXLrlqSmGTaTwA5zrjafMQS6UCgb3Xp3ZND7hqWHogbO0/w400-h225/20220809_120451.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">O jardim de inverno</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Se
o castelo me faz lembrar Chambord, no vale do Loire, os jardins têm uma conceção
cénica, teatral, muito ao gosto do século XIX. Rodeado por veredas por onde
apetece caminhar, junto do lago, entre árvores e arbustos escolhidos, por entre
pequenas grutas e grandes estátuas heróicas, o jardim é uma obra de arte em
nada inferior ao próprio edifício. O jardim de inverno é hoje um
café-restaurante de entrada livre.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyGh2MSG5GcjOKWBg21_weyShe1Xhx2F49lMV24_i72l0XrAM6bJ84yD5NFvR0RInw1EWXYC4AmBUIod-Wxz0dz6UU1UfC9K-gjYufDqjcYGNlBWvvmw5BXnXrxxJyI-KcT6pVWzIJumFUkxrfqRTnJd6xrGaRb5GLzGW6YJAlkv0bd7PzgE2B-hdKFw/s4000/20220809_120304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjIyGh2MSG5GcjOKWBg21_weyShe1Xhx2F49lMV24_i72l0XrAM6bJ84yD5NFvR0RInw1EWXYC4AmBUIod-Wxz0dz6UU1UfC9K-gjYufDqjcYGNlBWvvmw5BXnXrxxJyI-KcT6pVWzIJumFUkxrfqRTnJd6xrGaRb5GLzGW6YJAlkv0bd7PzgE2B-hdKFw/w400-h225/20220809_120304.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Deambulando pelos jardins...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWPnLpDclICDLJr2c6easw_5smu92YiHcJ9lu5a0Wx_c4IaSa4wCUoGI7McsN-QcmcesrJYv1e7XiFr380AhG4gwIc3MjAmEd5fPy84xcJECzWHZm7iy_i_ZhiQFtisbpIDsfELy6qpE7UaASQApk4zEJgBsKYFJjwFVDWyn6dB5AKEDkgypglrvWH9E/s4000/20220809_115847.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhQWPnLpDclICDLJr2c6easw_5smu92YiHcJ9lu5a0Wx_c4IaSa4wCUoGI7McsN-QcmcesrJYv1e7XiFr380AhG4gwIc3MjAmEd5fPy84xcJECzWHZm7iy_i_ZhiQFtisbpIDsfELy6qpE7UaASQApk4zEJgBsKYFJjwFVDWyn6dB5AKEDkgypglrvWH9E/w400-h225/20220809_115847.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgtx1vf_d_9MWMQeBnICYIUBDkJZB3yfZvSryszM-BUK0IhYJ-KIbaCDrL76KCqnAlakiczMjhYGsApvY1VebIueEz-yquEjNH2FI4GOr1EWZggfnt4hodrQ70jxH4IF_csZZeJFVVnp2DoNAdt-VWy1ZrP4IqlKkuiwEuB5INpcRS3Bo4FB4-xgG-sA/s4000/20220809_120539.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWgtx1vf_d_9MWMQeBnICYIUBDkJZB3yfZvSryszM-BUK0IhYJ-KIbaCDrL76KCqnAlakiczMjhYGsApvY1VebIueEz-yquEjNH2FI4GOr1EWZggfnt4hodrQ70jxH4IF_csZZeJFVVnp2DoNAdt-VWy1ZrP4IqlKkuiwEuB5INpcRS3Bo4FB4-xgG-sA/w400-h225/20220809_120539.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O
Castelo de Schwerin impressionou-me pela imponência mas também pela extraordinária
beleza do espaço envolvente. Não admira que seja protegido pela UNESCO como
Património da Humanidade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0wZal2a5uFN2lrYVDIUcBb3ryuHpj2FnL_CHpmhRahr2zn53Qyf5oGlnFLzbsurplTneLrjMrIhN_Z42R4a5GkqdkeH24FS4xlwMKPpagWA5A550qkWrrTRdRnl_RUZIGy4xV9mqWm46qW-shnUZcVmL9mPYDlzhNJ8DegsmY0GTfVNp_ihC9xuhA0s/s4000/20220809_120044.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEid0wZal2a5uFN2lrYVDIUcBb3ryuHpj2FnL_CHpmhRahr2zn53Qyf5oGlnFLzbsurplTneLrjMrIhN_Z42R4a5GkqdkeH24FS4xlwMKPpagWA5A550qkWrrTRdRnl_RUZIGy4xV9mqWm46qW-shnUZcVmL9mPYDlzhNJ8DegsmY0GTfVNp_ihC9xuhA0s/w400-h225/20220809_120044.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Jardins de uma beleza teatral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">A
oeste de Schwerin, estende-se uma zona de lagos e bosques, a Reserva da
Biosfera de Schaalsee. Por toda essa região, encontram-se pequenas cidades que
parecem adormecidas no tempo. Como, por exemplo, <span style="background: white;">Mölln</span></span><b><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">.<o:p></o:p></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><b><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Fp9-bwKW8iya8N_XD-8d25qwoSUU3nuJijA5Np1VdN3WjdrrIRb5VSE98ME-sqQzKpeSIY9I7NONrjYXJ2-EmgVe3PoSj-gYZG8FS-vmPK2w2xNlkWDT7Krv48NrJZ6NQkYs9yMHLiDO32cYaKJYCY3siCZ0tEJ--kui_X0g2xT6KR73LzmX_foZw0w/s4000/20220808_123551.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6Fp9-bwKW8iya8N_XD-8d25qwoSUU3nuJijA5Np1VdN3WjdrrIRb5VSE98ME-sqQzKpeSIY9I7NONrjYXJ2-EmgVe3PoSj-gYZG8FS-vmPK2w2xNlkWDT7Krv48NrJZ6NQkYs9yMHLiDO32cYaKJYCY3siCZ0tEJ--kui_X0g2xT6KR73LzmX_foZw0w/w400-h225/20220808_123551.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O lago junto a Mölln</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></b></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mölln é uma pequena localidade, aninhada junto ao
lago. Mal estacionamos, um velhote que ali apanhava sol, sentado num banco de
jardim, abordou-nos. Queria falar-nos da sua terra e das coisas bonitas que ali
podíamos ver. Queria “vender-nos” a sua adoração por Mölln, mas não era
necessário, nós também ficámos apaixonados...</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6-N9Kzvvkfuo650_7oq9gUIjUw0BHK3VbRGGvf9BGMhdV0hSOfrMSdA2T6EEAp2xf5rts-wDrZUJKeAa_kZ3tC4UjrK2Me9Q7z6LCU-0EIvue7lGIJJcpNXo0XoOl3qNdGjhh2jfEgZUrpy2pf8rytbQEWEJb2COFENTzv_leO2YXRbw0GXT2ul2xL4/s4000/20220808_131529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjh6-N9Kzvvkfuo650_7oq9gUIjUw0BHK3VbRGGvf9BGMhdV0hSOfrMSdA2T6EEAp2xf5rts-wDrZUJKeAa_kZ3tC4UjrK2Me9Q7z6LCU-0EIvue7lGIJJcpNXo0XoOl3qNdGjhh2jfEgZUrpy2pf8rytbQEWEJb2COFENTzv_leO2YXRbw0GXT2ul2xL4/w400-h225/20220808_131529.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A entrada na cidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Após passarmos a ponte, as ruas sucedem-se,
rodeadas de velhas casas de tijolo, com um aspeto um pouco austero. Muitas têm
citações da Bíblia e percebemos que ali estamos em plena zona de reforma
protestante. Mas todas as coisas têm um verso e um reverso e Mölln também é a
capital do Till Eulenspiegel, essa figura do folclore medieval alemão, meio
bobo, meio espertalhão!</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXgqyWzkRkwUMCyOBK4-sSYKX9hV86k9IM6BN7QvEClqIvG0pMcYRS_PHmQA_G4WJtbZZPJYp5ygwy523GHjmN2pLBikMYPC7C_hPu2CKPLh_uzQ_u9F7wwnoCRKfQutQxPtxsKN8tLRlXhuqAt7DOC26ykgoxEizqOvUAy7gir-fEiCf0Opl8HqkDxE/s4000/20220808_124121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtXgqyWzkRkwUMCyOBK4-sSYKX9hV86k9IM6BN7QvEClqIvG0pMcYRS_PHmQA_G4WJtbZZPJYp5ygwy523GHjmN2pLBikMYPC7C_hPu2CKPLh_uzQ_u9F7wwnoCRKfQutQxPtxsKN8tLRlXhuqAt7DOC26ykgoxEizqOvUAy7gir-fEiCf0Opl8HqkDxE/w225-h400/20220808_124121.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Aí está o Till Eulenspiegel, em cima do fontanário</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O Till Eulenspiegel é o protagonista de muitas
historietas, o camponês que troça da autoridade, o brincalhão que representa a
esperteza do povo. É ele que tem uma estátua na praça de Mölln, à sombra
tutelar da igreja, e aí se situa também o seu museu. Nesse pequeno museu, podem
ler-se as suas histórias ou assistir a representações e os bonecos estão
presentes a estimular a imaginação das crianças. Podem comprar-se marionetas e
encenar as anedotas mesmo ali!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJqAULHTcpinpenSWs62kHOGvto4vFH0niiVSIrJu74jdgu93ta4eKJLvpZnt5pj04LkZqw78rgELbMtfRnKJ9LLdfQUT3g7XWI_W4Q-2qqqdVMSf_SIZY70kq1xs9_tpcQI7uBhybpC70dGErXNoSBBUydCbT2V6yihBmyFDw_xyJTCjZJ3SOO95ZJM/s3491/20220808_125056.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3491" data-original-width="2233" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgJqAULHTcpinpenSWs62kHOGvto4vFH0niiVSIrJu74jdgu93ta4eKJLvpZnt5pj04LkZqw78rgELbMtfRnKJ9LLdfQUT3g7XWI_W4Q-2qqqdVMSf_SIZY70kq1xs9_tpcQI7uBhybpC70dGErXNoSBBUydCbT2V6yihBmyFDw_xyJTCjZJ3SOO95ZJM/w256-h400/20220808_125056.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">A entrada do pequeno museu dedicado ao Till Eulenspiegel...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQSKSn9cxNtdP-MZ4omqzp5TxNu95guNK1tYpHvUKBE_Z88L4gPudpYhY0XakQxVbYsEtt17R1sK1ZGeuKYA5y4MqMzuA4NW_9HJTPwMvXvmWkRXSn4d1DqF1CoY2d4fqu3T69aIRDAm-fCGkFpzgvpa3_-Eg4hNrcu7-bq7cVyRExQJXdNIYmH-1do4/s4000/20220808_124900.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiQSKSn9cxNtdP-MZ4omqzp5TxNu95guNK1tYpHvUKBE_Z88L4gPudpYhY0XakQxVbYsEtt17R1sK1ZGeuKYA5y4MqMzuA4NW_9HJTPwMvXvmWkRXSn4d1DqF1CoY2d4fqu3T69aIRDAm-fCGkFpzgvpa3_-Eg4hNrcu7-bq7cVyRExQJXdNIYmH-1do4/w225-h400/20220808_124900.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">...e o interior do museu</span></td></tr></tbody></table>Sentamo-nos a tomar um chá na única esplanada
da localidade, no largo central, junto ao tronco onde se aplicavam os castigos
físicos, na Idade Média. E partimos de Mölln a pensar em como a vida, em
qualquer época, tem tantas facetas diferentes!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9ivRnfIDLyrrD5LSkpQ147M3137luTbTejtcStc4QoXm5PZYqJMIOVUvD2UyKKPZTE37RvFT4uimb8e8pDHR4ZbHHmccsdmsmclNykKAodIm9YnftTBb3yJbTejoNxxmWOJzQDZYAIHMOo3nUwekmvH63iWXXfpUv9v6Zfy0bsj1XKvTJl5vG-znmq0/s4000/20220808_124100.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs9ivRnfIDLyrrD5LSkpQ147M3137luTbTejtcStc4QoXm5PZYqJMIOVUvD2UyKKPZTE37RvFT4uimb8e8pDHR4ZbHHmccsdmsmclNykKAodIm9YnftTBb3yJbTejoNxxmWOJzQDZYAIHMOo3nUwekmvH63iWXXfpUv9v6Zfy0bsj1XKvTJl5vG-znmq0/w400-h225/20220808_124100.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O largo central de Mölln</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><br /><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-14879597776017372012023-04-09T16:30:00.002+01:002023-04-09T16:30:48.761+01:00Reviver o passado em Pompeia<p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhCxZzZgYUdRWpcsWMrAvUntMf7o8GWb2tJjiDPqXKWb_3ubth5fmzOeIPlFW5S24sqbGytW5YTxI284nm5a_ShDML7_ZqZGTOFKaLDaarbJsCqhlgB7LgCMASD7lhFgW5mn6zqUnlX825vW7khPkJ5jW2PGG-ZBVKFVqLI-mlNYw4DyNVjtOZ9Ad/s3615/20230326_122206.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1923" data-original-width="3615" height="213" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZhCxZzZgYUdRWpcsWMrAvUntMf7o8GWb2tJjiDPqXKWb_3ubth5fmzOeIPlFW5S24sqbGytW5YTxI284nm5a_ShDML7_ZqZGTOFKaLDaarbJsCqhlgB7LgCMASD7lhFgW5mn6zqUnlX825vW7khPkJ5jW2PGG-ZBVKFVqLI-mlNYw4DyNVjtOZ9Ad/w400-h213/20230326_122206.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O velho fórum de Pompeia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Pompeia era uma cidade de média dimensão, situada no sul da
Itália, que beneficiava da pujança comercial do Império. Aninhada aos pés do
Vesúvio, numa região muito fértil, era uma pequena cidade próspera e
movimentada, conhecida pela sua escola de gladiadores. Provavelmente hoje não
reconheceríamos o seu nome, se uma catástrofe terrível não a tivesse destruído
totalmente e congelado no tempo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZp1F0L482w80lF_6moAgJHmOroqXUwErhBbjRg5qeygXS_RAhANQpTRTQgtaVch57xEQYENBQ6AdX176mDHJjKSgBp0PMBdpn3kp2rchBQbuWrsD3l6-NvMSOPT7FSbZItgUS59T6mAn24z9cFRDNpsdWOWs2lxTifl6bciHoqWo9UHCw5azcw7V/s4000/20230326_121347.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjEZp1F0L482w80lF_6moAgJHmOroqXUwErhBbjRg5qeygXS_RAhANQpTRTQgtaVch57xEQYENBQ6AdX176mDHJjKSgBp0PMBdpn3kp2rchBQbuWrsD3l6-NvMSOPT7FSbZItgUS59T6mAn24z9cFRDNpsdWOWs2lxTifl6bciHoqWo9UHCw5azcw7V/w225-h400/20230326_121347.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um fontanário</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No ano de 79 d.C. o vulcão entrou em erupção e soterrou a
cidade. Toneladas de cinza vulcânica escaldante caíram sobre a cidade e os
habitantes que não conseguiram fugir ficaram soterrados também. O mesmo
aconteceu com outros povoados nos arredores, como a pequena cidade de Ercolano.
Lava e cinza cobriram a região e silenciaram aquela cidade vibrante e animada.
Durante séculos...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3Ek0JWz7OmmzRu4UQU24iHMgAa8bPBqQsiY7dcZY6fZWeBd8xJftFt_-H9PCG8t8dxKjBOMPKHRMtaaA-a--57qIvn9nRu1Vj-AGrsN5_greyAd6MIpATrDuPMW-vW5JdKPjqEcOAPPpMVWhR_QBfUnHtXRQFusbrBENlDVQ_ZMWeSUVKxuMpBnY/s4000/20230326_110843.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEip3Ek0JWz7OmmzRu4UQU24iHMgAa8bPBqQsiY7dcZY6fZWeBd8xJftFt_-H9PCG8t8dxKjBOMPKHRMtaaA-a--57qIvn9nRu1Vj-AGrsN5_greyAd6MIpATrDuPMW-vW5JdKPjqEcOAPPpMVWhR_QBfUnHtXRQFusbrBENlDVQ_ZMWeSUVKxuMpBnY/w225-h400/20230326_110843.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma rua: os passeios, o fontanário, os sulcos das carroças...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No século XIX, a nascente paixão da arqueologia levou às
primeiras escavações de Pompeia. A pouco e pouco, foi surgindo uma cidade
romana, tão viva e bem conservada como se tivesse adormecido ontem. Ou como se
fossemos nós a regressar ao passado numa qualquer máquina do tempo.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2RvTExSG6gBMMJLC8DNzRblw6rZAZ9_BmqcivN72jDNYtkRG-d7nkZB7rjqmmkF3Rbx3uyCW20CWyDNQ4Ri9BSEne27VeXDnwTwkmKfz1MaN3H8euTOLTFJDhLjH6PB946XvRXo9OWCw6HdMoQroq03yR7zfW5hY6Vkff8HHwVL7TlCG4nQgjpax/s4000/20230326_112458.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjH2RvTExSG6gBMMJLC8DNzRblw6rZAZ9_BmqcivN72jDNYtkRG-d7nkZB7rjqmmkF3Rbx3uyCW20CWyDNQ4Ri9BSEne27VeXDnwTwkmKfz1MaN3H8euTOLTFJDhLjH6PB946XvRXo9OWCw6HdMoQroq03yR7zfW5hY6Vkff8HHwVL7TlCG4nQgjpax/w400-h225/20230326_112458.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma loja de comida pronta a comer</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBqBPcDpeeQs1CREZubviPFTEVQdP2E8Uf1XrZsDmoQiqaFaHLIuDJ9_FDv1yXhfSEx5hmzQxIIYMegTqiiJez1FfXH-36FIIEycdPc_HZBFNkJMJmJfNZkyfy_XvYtsyOFhFmf8vPyIfAON6jsgzcfbFybJ1dRDuYl_ee2voMKCn1D5uwGUB7RdN/s4000/20230326_113909.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbBqBPcDpeeQs1CREZubviPFTEVQdP2E8Uf1XrZsDmoQiqaFaHLIuDJ9_FDv1yXhfSEx5hmzQxIIYMegTqiiJez1FfXH-36FIIEycdPc_HZBFNkJMJmJfNZkyfy_XvYtsyOFhFmf8vPyIfAON6jsgzcfbFybJ1dRDuYl_ee2voMKCn1D5uwGUB7RdN/w400-h225/20230326_113909.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma padaria</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As cidades são entidades dinâmicas. Crescem, modificam-se.
Sucedem-se as guerras, os terramotos, os incêndios. Há construção, depois
destruição, e novamente reconstrução, numa cadeia imparável. As mentalidades e
as modas mudam. As velhas pedras são reutilizadas com novos propósitos. E o
tempo vai esculpindo as cidades, acrescentando camadas de histórias novas a
cada século que passa.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yXyaFFMQz6Dl6JE9Ws_-4Z6IhXlJ-0aFQ8P-FNPLXF14QdLsA_rO-SyRZRzZ7jlpohw9gIUVfu-PV5vM7MNQTK-3J543oBWlOULp3D95Dgt5kxw6XqyPTGtntRYIe0IcAvC3VtBW48E9HYtbR6-F1Cm1GlZ2vsjJDNABZrf1oVahj8lHfkGB4aQL/s4000/20230326_114326.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0yXyaFFMQz6Dl6JE9Ws_-4Z6IhXlJ-0aFQ8P-FNPLXF14QdLsA_rO-SyRZRzZ7jlpohw9gIUVfu-PV5vM7MNQTK-3J543oBWlOULp3D95Dgt5kxw6XqyPTGtntRYIe0IcAvC3VtBW48E9HYtbR6-F1Cm1GlZ2vsjJDNABZrf1oVahj8lHfkGB4aQL/w400-h225/20230326_114326.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Restos de uma <i>domus</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Nada disso aconteceu em Pompeia. Ali, o tempo parou no dia da
erupção do Vesúvio. E agora, o que vemos é uma cidade romana em plena
atividade. As ruas, com o seu velho empedrado, são rodeadas de lojas que
conseguimos identificar. Há o tintureiro e a lavandaria. Há padarias, lojas de
produtos frescos e lojas de comida já feita e pronta a comer. Há uma associação
comercial, bem identificada pelos deuses propiciadores na fachada. Há anúncios
e grafitis nas paredes.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkWSZvlwDWgrcf9o8ZYHBbTCU_TpbNkyUtZ_K6BFah2XGxPDzOf_7QpH_rAPfG-asRjW46-dIstb-lvXpXwoE1a1KEdWpKyg_75vPiRg7hvlrBFIU5c96vYI3NdNJLYXbPnmBKwcYG5ZMnjxccEb0eUzOdyQjBGPFMacx8COf6eD34iRkCcPed9HBI/s4000/20230326_111648.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkWSZvlwDWgrcf9o8ZYHBbTCU_TpbNkyUtZ_K6BFah2XGxPDzOf_7QpH_rAPfG-asRjW46-dIstb-lvXpXwoE1a1KEdWpKyg_75vPiRg7hvlrBFIU5c96vYI3NdNJLYXbPnmBKwcYG5ZMnjxccEb0eUzOdyQjBGPFMacx8COf6eD34iRkCcPed9HBI/w400-h225/20230326_111648.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Palavras escritas nas paredes há 2000 anos atrás</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjMCOjoPb6hqIDJhxUgxIQRy5J7qV3AM-cKsNl6U45GepKQ7VRLfPTt2MuLrnVuUz1LdfqFCn8zSNmr-ITKJxthAfAgHxU6IBS8SCNLHfShbQu19HEVv909YuEUbcNMNpS81IFqPFdRub9GmwVD73eiOGCUK_mzdxcA_DnQJuTQEh8d4SuZhDnFlHt/s4000/20230326_112909.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjMCOjoPb6hqIDJhxUgxIQRy5J7qV3AM-cKsNl6U45GepKQ7VRLfPTt2MuLrnVuUz1LdfqFCn8zSNmr-ITKJxthAfAgHxU6IBS8SCNLHfShbQu19HEVv909YuEUbcNMNpS81IFqPFdRub9GmwVD73eiOGCUK_mzdxcA_DnQJuTQEh8d4SuZhDnFlHt/w400-h225/20230326_112909.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os frescos sobre a porta da Associação Comercial</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Há casas de habitação, evidentemente. Muitas são pequenos
prédios, as <i>insulae, </i>mas também há belas<i> domus, </i>com as paredes
pintadas com frescos e o chão coberto de mosaicos. Vislumbram-se os pátios
interiores, as salas, as fontes, e conseguimos bem imaginar como ali se vivia.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMreXuACl3Hw_JHcf1ynrpfvgwcBf5kmpP7KQhDO7BSEvg1cmFttPX4MKANTt38PTpu2KmpzpLQSTyrgeeztS53yoDUz42lBRWxXZd6XAoIq_O5D0oRwUb2MO5S-dWslQbq6TRZlY6l2iBpJYXFlsxJgvpo2Mz5FV_GVcAitpBF8NeOF6XaZiuD4pP/s4000/20230326_112732.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjMreXuACl3Hw_JHcf1ynrpfvgwcBf5kmpP7KQhDO7BSEvg1cmFttPX4MKANTt38PTpu2KmpzpLQSTyrgeeztS53yoDUz42lBRWxXZd6XAoIq_O5D0oRwUb2MO5S-dWslQbq6TRZlY6l2iBpJYXFlsxJgvpo2Mz5FV_GVcAitpBF8NeOF6XaZiuD4pP/w225-h400/20230326_112732.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Interior de uma <i>domus...</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYO1GuYjegsqoFKUp1ZNe5tw-vcmbG2YRllu38do2iN4nMxQVAs3y4yJXWpZzvauUGFf867RL3YucU7m6_fEXSqn8OUf1ipcxB8FMnsb5lWt0ekP32MlAOMVWF2v4wt4fbJA1SX0J7y9-XL4poNB-lXs-BllRKyojXvKVxPAJ6bM_tIEZ8pJcbgmyi/s4000/20230326_112749.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYO1GuYjegsqoFKUp1ZNe5tw-vcmbG2YRllu38do2iN4nMxQVAs3y4yJXWpZzvauUGFf867RL3YucU7m6_fEXSqn8OUf1ipcxB8FMnsb5lWt0ekP32MlAOMVWF2v4wt4fbJA1SX0J7y9-XL4poNB-lXs-BllRKyojXvKVxPAJ6bM_tIEZ8pJcbgmyi/w400-h225/20230326_112749.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">... com o seu cão de guarda à entrada.</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Muitos dos frescos, esculturas e mosaicos encontrados em
Pompeia estão hoje preservados no Museu Arqueológico de Nápoles. É uma visita
obrigatória, já que permite completar a visão que a visita à cidade nos
proporciona.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtZfn-pSBgzSokV-lJZtmLw-YJ4e4rrTAnh7Sb4vsvXutEzsvEdA4KUXeeMPT7ZmjXZvkg9JFdmVaNrxxGP0NVzEx61eTW2zWeHIfBWK-dV5SWE4yR72ryYE_vjUx0ItLnSTL7Ftj_k4_VocM-weDcxLdSmM-b1QEeUbidAHBVY9bw_1unD7uJf0s/s4000/20230326_160732.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwtZfn-pSBgzSokV-lJZtmLw-YJ4e4rrTAnh7Sb4vsvXutEzsvEdA4KUXeeMPT7ZmjXZvkg9JFdmVaNrxxGP0NVzEx61eTW2zWeHIfBWK-dV5SWE4yR72ryYE_vjUx0ItLnSTL7Ftj_k4_VocM-weDcxLdSmM-b1QEeUbidAHBVY9bw_1unD7uJf0s/w225-h400/20230326_160732.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Frescos, colunas e composições em mosaico, estão guardadas no <br />Museu Arqueológico de Nápoles</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwT3RiFlcAA_kq7kKF5YrHbldqiJFPb-wSAvFWAtgNP2C2TvaI-CPj97efv9rn1h0KVo7AVTF0duxxdmlJuKPFOkJqp192EojEtZdpz4nKluX0ipjly9FjF_OutCOTQ6ulx7zp2uG9GekSWSIpuBt3brRP2LCJMM855pPLUinO19hKwg5xrKRUz--y/s4000/20230326_160901.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwT3RiFlcAA_kq7kKF5YrHbldqiJFPb-wSAvFWAtgNP2C2TvaI-CPj97efv9rn1h0KVo7AVTF0duxxdmlJuKPFOkJqp192EojEtZdpz4nKluX0ipjly9FjF_OutCOTQ6ulx7zp2uG9GekSWSIpuBt3brRP2LCJMM855pPLUinO19hKwg5xrKRUz--y/w225-h400/20230326_160901.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBwuBJ0Pci6Cbn5-Od2MDfdiQ6uqClk21WxVJEwbQrxvFRLbuvG8jrqTfYsMScaRvLFUju8R7VgXABGtA-XgP29djkowsiDzQ66HZLUWijcnURRwSMktTg4iAmDXNWqO6jvGdJqXhny9WQaYWs1UhjTpJBHD5EKNRdO7E98U5FJKsWEE4nCQjxCbyT/s4000/20230326_161042.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgBwuBJ0Pci6Cbn5-Od2MDfdiQ6uqClk21WxVJEwbQrxvFRLbuvG8jrqTfYsMScaRvLFUju8R7VgXABGtA-XgP29djkowsiDzQ66HZLUWijcnURRwSMktTg4iAmDXNWqO6jvGdJqXhny9WQaYWs1UhjTpJBHD5EKNRdO7E98U5FJKsWEE4nCQjxCbyT/w400-h225/20230326_161042.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Um dos espaços mais surpreendentes é o lupanar, a casa de
prostituição, bem identificada pelos falos e pelas pinturas que sugerem as
diversas posições sexuais que ali se podiam praticar. De resto, os falos
aparecem por toda a parte, já que eram considerados símbolos de fecundidade e
talismãs de sucesso. Apesar de estarmos no século XXI, a nossa mente reage com
surpresa e estupefacção. Os séculos de repressão sexual pesam sobre nós. Mas os
romanos não eram assim, para eles o sexo era um ato natural praticado com
bastante liberdade e sem discriminações de género.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOGsDoLxb_NVbOFZDKHPEc9RPXb77zTuATQ-9MZyIkIbEr8NiUd5DqOf62t5X5zhhV2ovzfdDyBya0czylHYeheeWWWdPpt0jNHnDgAzchWcQow1I9gWDPj83o0W-GHn85IeqtTt8P6bW0duB5gvcQkjhmaYyUakIlQFZDbERo0fB3SHAcGhcTzON/s4000/20230326_113133.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgiOGsDoLxb_NVbOFZDKHPEc9RPXb77zTuATQ-9MZyIkIbEr8NiUd5DqOf62t5X5zhhV2ovzfdDyBya0czylHYeheeWWWdPpt0jNHnDgAzchWcQow1I9gWDPj83o0W-GHn85IeqtTt8P6bW0duB5gvcQkjhmaYyUakIlQFZDbERo0fB3SHAcGhcTzON/w225-h400/20230326_113133.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O falo como amuleto</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSF14aqPTGlthuFGvc9mYrSyVGWoLHg-D9WktkyeiAEL6id1bBTxD-RJ-4x57Sq6mHq1JfPaM1ZUQcg_Xvfif6-mta6tLKYq_4Gzn_QJBbso1muke6mvFoK4doWGOZ6WbZAAUvbXrl1NuNvmyNWvYpJuPoWML9K_lPuZ7NCdsUr9XrNoLpzQLmbR2l/s3669/20230326_121138.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1829" data-original-width="3669" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSF14aqPTGlthuFGvc9mYrSyVGWoLHg-D9WktkyeiAEL6id1bBTxD-RJ-4x57Sq6mHq1JfPaM1ZUQcg_Xvfif6-mta6tLKYq_4Gzn_QJBbso1muke6mvFoK4doWGOZ6WbZAAUvbXrl1NuNvmyNWvYpJuPoWML9K_lPuZ7NCdsUr9XrNoLpzQLmbR2l/w400-h200/20230326_121138.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pinturas com cenas de sexo explícito nas paredes do prostíbulo</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No cruzamento das ruas principais, como em todas as cidades
romanas, abre-se o Forum, uma praça larga, rodeada por colunas, onde se
situavam os edifícios públicos mais importantes, como os templos e a basílica.
Hoje em dia, a estátua de um centauro preside à praça, mas desconfio que no ano
de 79 aquele pedestal estaria ocupado pela estátua de um deus. Ou de um
imperador, o que era quase a mesma coisa.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7603cAocypB1cpJ4TT036zQyQbdvZQc9_PTk7sh6Gk1nu9__Iwf5__LV77PMTz_z_gn10xqdIj5uvchrqZuq714O9OvwlYZSq5hhZBL7VTy8ror5JEEPc6lC3pvsLQfiGgfT8yAo0yjfpcK5PHyRuOjLX8U5g9TAdr-Cz2-40fVW3fadd3zm8eRC-/s4000/20230326_122620.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7603cAocypB1cpJ4TT036zQyQbdvZQc9_PTk7sh6Gk1nu9__Iwf5__LV77PMTz_z_gn10xqdIj5uvchrqZuq714O9OvwlYZSq5hhZBL7VTy8ror5JEEPc6lC3pvsLQfiGgfT8yAo0yjfpcK5PHyRuOjLX8U5g9TAdr-Cz2-40fVW3fadd3zm8eRC-/w225-h400/20230326_122620.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No meio do forum, a estátua de um centauro</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1y4heoswgNl9Rz3graikYLGd4dbPue3SrhVFD3GR9MeewOheiS8wmZrZaS-zG6sG16EExr7hOhiQiJCBdLFNzi4MGG3u2kk887g2zZfPJeBdAbvC0u8ZNiauveQmpDsrgIpcjmm1C7s_fbrp35e1w3DfwIWe5Bew8szybBNQnQl6ze25Uz8MNoDoP/s3410/20230326_122226.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1990" data-original-width="3410" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1y4heoswgNl9Rz3graikYLGd4dbPue3SrhVFD3GR9MeewOheiS8wmZrZaS-zG6sG16EExr7hOhiQiJCBdLFNzi4MGG3u2kk887g2zZfPJeBdAbvC0u8ZNiauveQmpDsrgIpcjmm1C7s_fbrp35e1w3DfwIWe5Bew8szybBNQnQl6ze25Uz8MNoDoP/w400-h234/20230326_122226.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O que resta do forum, com o Vesúvio ao fundo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Os banhos, as termas, estão por perto. As salas para banhos
com águas a várias temperaturas sucedem-se e ainda conseguimos ver as
canalizações.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vZuEH_bWv6yj39kYvfUKceUiWQ6V41OshquqxXIny_u1BcQZkFVtK_qPQbXZaFojCVpMC_--UB9Ju4GLSz6Itrufo0uTne-7yxkJpObRG8jRaHGm5JMbfFqpyXee2Wf2-ed_3aEe-rWcVinX4eo-ahTKTqTyT6H0frCH5m4g6mDFxQgcFG6m3BBp/s4000/20230326_115124.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4vZuEH_bWv6yj39kYvfUKceUiWQ6V41OshquqxXIny_u1BcQZkFVtK_qPQbXZaFojCVpMC_--UB9Ju4GLSz6Itrufo0uTne-7yxkJpObRG8jRaHGm5JMbfFqpyXee2Wf2-ed_3aEe-rWcVinX4eo-ahTKTqTyT6H0frCH5m4g6mDFxQgcFG6m3BBp/w400-h225/20230326_115124.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O teto da sala de entrada das termas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Sendo Pompeia uma cidade com tradição nas lutas de
gladiadores, possui um anfiteatro bastante grande e bem conservado.
Conseguem distinguir-se os vários níveis de bancadas e imaginar um dia de
jogos, com as bancadas cheias de público (tinha capacidade para 20 000
espetadores) que gritavam e incentivavam os lutadores.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78hrPUIspVyN-JN3cida59qMRWuu-tser3k5d4-vSJdhjV5Eq9zFQusI0dPMX9MJaCKgsIBMDZL1yoLV8JjKDdOQWz3cUUu1XyxgWWT3iMiaPNpT-yXn0dQiELaHUB8rmBaKUvho2ZYvaQURvoT-J3bVUL3Fpc_wvgdQJE_ujAsTnUifEgJzpbG3K/s4000/20230326_102936.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh78hrPUIspVyN-JN3cida59qMRWuu-tser3k5d4-vSJdhjV5Eq9zFQusI0dPMX9MJaCKgsIBMDZL1yoLV8JjKDdOQWz3cUUu1XyxgWWT3iMiaPNpT-yXn0dQiELaHUB8rmBaKUvho2ZYvaQURvoT-J3bVUL3Fpc_wvgdQJE_ujAsTnUifEgJzpbG3K/w400-h225/20230326_102936.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O anfiteatro de Pompeia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSwpkzn4IISS6d4cuL3XFoYVbvyc5ytlSqvAm1Co4LxKv8lYnkqd2rL5xVc2NI9vDLrbK3qAzrJNUhqwgcq7IO67t8jxaL6DchzFGYsqvLZIt5N-k3DXAy0-aQhPPqMQlWqUZAqTgHCrkMwYeu3xsWl0uST5SPMUvt8XbgDyoQjKMN8LhvBycjpZw/s4000/20230326_104844.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNSwpkzn4IISS6d4cuL3XFoYVbvyc5ytlSqvAm1Co4LxKv8lYnkqd2rL5xVc2NI9vDLrbK3qAzrJNUhqwgcq7IO67t8jxaL6DchzFGYsqvLZIt5N-k3DXAy0-aQhPPqMQlWqUZAqTgHCrkMwYeu3xsWl0uST5SPMUvt8XbgDyoQjKMN8LhvBycjpZw/w225-h400/20230326_104844.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrando na arena...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtW9OxKJ2IaAFhgC8KbvQQjwL5CqEdpOTfi9O4pylvO7GVOcBR5dPayBbQu9NEHAQRjKiKo4lETuhF00olXZya8VfeUjKs6cmdyipTJhfiWx_YFe_p2VcPpLcYcqrgqlvHvdfGxw9BdP5m0Wwjk4TmdxrtqX17mWVFJulDXfdO4Ve9anoq-gvQHPq/s4000/20230326_104758.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPtW9OxKJ2IaAFhgC8KbvQQjwL5CqEdpOTfi9O4pylvO7GVOcBR5dPayBbQu9NEHAQRjKiKo4lETuhF00olXZya8VfeUjKs6cmdyipTJhfiWx_YFe_p2VcPpLcYcqrgqlvHvdfGxw9BdP5m0Wwjk4TmdxrtqX17mWVFJulDXfdO4Ve9anoq-gvQHPq/w400-h225/20230326_104758.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os espaços das bancadas: ainda se conseguem ver os bancos numerados</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Em frente, veem-se os muros da <i>palestra </i>ou ginásio,
onde se exercitavam.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiN3_j7hFYkSNIbcdIdi_kcvT_tu87AeDdm0d1x3dEtuMv2IcpAzH5pYJojlyB9yRs0Kks7folVwkZctmtnJF2RpZPmsy5IYDSOQzR2nbVQBYBpm9-AtRai2IVyE29wnonMc8RRpMM9Dl89HZ8Re4IQe3ihGWCt7eNFqaNn41Lj5_WUmbLxG3PW-1n/s4000/20230326_103216.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiN3_j7hFYkSNIbcdIdi_kcvT_tu87AeDdm0d1x3dEtuMv2IcpAzH5pYJojlyB9yRs0Kks7folVwkZctmtnJF2RpZPmsy5IYDSOQzR2nbVQBYBpm9-AtRai2IVyE29wnonMc8RRpMM9Dl89HZ8Re4IQe3ihGWCt7eNFqaNn41Lj5_WUmbLxG3PW-1n/w400-h225/20230326_103216.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Frente ao anfiteatro, o espaço do ginásio</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Na mesma praça, erguia-se um hotel, a <i>Praedia de Giulia
Felice</i> , para albergar os que vinham assistir aos Jogos. Ainda lá estão os
quartos e as salas, os pátios e jardins. Podemos imaginar-nos a passear pelo pátio, rodeando o <i>impluvium</i>, o tanque central que guardava as águas da chuva. Ou podemos imaginar-nos a tomar uma refeição reqintada no <i>triclinium</i>, a sala das refeições, com uma parede ocupada pelos degraus por onde caía a água, em jogos decorativos. Ou podemos simplesmente maravilhar-nos com os frescos, que ainda guardam cores intensas e imagens vívidas.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUOqwWC5y6dPgrStbwzxYIhUUziwHYAsO49A9xTUh6BgAQrUUNFDhbHqpljzbYo35ggAdjpz0cJKEDW8ZludsO8Rp_ct7r5cOGbjG1jaD2CMT95albr2Iiu4wp-aKGuTEQpE5scyR_8zaLNBKqaINvU2HcQE71BlBNgAAp6TYODDWxp3KZnGSOdyip/s4000/20230326_110024.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUOqwWC5y6dPgrStbwzxYIhUUziwHYAsO49A9xTUh6BgAQrUUNFDhbHqpljzbYo35ggAdjpz0cJKEDW8ZludsO8Rp_ct7r5cOGbjG1jaD2CMT95albr2Iiu4wp-aKGuTEQpE5scyR_8zaLNBKqaINvU2HcQE71BlBNgAAp6TYODDWxp3KZnGSOdyip/w400-h225/20230326_110024.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">As salas da<i> Praedia de Giulia Felice</i></span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qDu6Rldj9rVeqqE1CHYJZrgP0x6VMTA_it5QCPo9p2KllemRMVFTLeEz8OQeRwO1Cq0YbxHNJ_CS3fIsulASKs_Z_M_bIvZFGKBow4QdBPEpvpRT8QO8pBQGcv4AKcFElye7BYIg3iol0DUfHJdPBTBaOrsez7D9pRmU7bPZ9_w6hp5Lzth5zuS8/s4000/20230326_110643.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9qDu6Rldj9rVeqqE1CHYJZrgP0x6VMTA_it5QCPo9p2KllemRMVFTLeEz8OQeRwO1Cq0YbxHNJ_CS3fIsulASKs_Z_M_bIvZFGKBow4QdBPEpvpRT8QO8pBQGcv4AKcFElye7BYIg3iol0DUfHJdPBTBaOrsez7D9pRmU7bPZ9_w6hp5Lzth5zuS8/w225-h400/20230326_110643.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;">O</span><i style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"> triclinium</i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;">, a sala das refeições</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Caminhamos por ruas e becos, observamos as lojas e as casas,
vemos como estes romanos viviam. Apesar de ainda haver muitos espaços que não
foram escavados e explorados, percebemos bem que era uma cidade próspera e
vibrante, com muita gente que por ali caminhava, comprava e vendia, entrava e
saía daquelas casas. Até um dia... Quando Pompeia foi soterrada pelas cinzas do
Vesúvio, alguns não conseguiram escapar. Os seus corpos já desapareceram, mas
os espaços que ocupavam na camada vulcânica foram injetados com gesso e hoje
sobram-nos os moldes dos seus corpos abatidos pelas cinzas tóxicas. Esses
moldes trazem para a vida os antigos habitantes de Pompeia e preenchem as ruas
e as casas. Pelo menos, na minha imaginação.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeCAC1Ct-YWjvFg_xm9Kk0MO8vxAkc6ZeH2XyLuG2cum7sU38hLmoRIHWvZmwWGT6II9QZqXbcQm26xfl-JF8if7poVMB86GOvvTbMuzpGPHBvjM_K_Bs5p_jSjFIIkZ0Q8d2iGYaO-KZmYMmBwooCmpxIiCYRGqUihfOdw40c9UTsd23kD9jqmHZ/s4000/20230326_102059.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeCAC1Ct-YWjvFg_xm9Kk0MO8vxAkc6ZeH2XyLuG2cum7sU38hLmoRIHWvZmwWGT6II9QZqXbcQm26xfl-JF8if7poVMB86GOvvTbMuzpGPHBvjM_K_Bs5p_jSjFIIkZ0Q8d2iGYaO-KZmYMmBwooCmpxIiCYRGqUihfOdw40c9UTsd23kD9jqmHZ/w400-h225/20230326_102059.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os moldes dos habitantes mortos de Pompeia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Para nós, que por ali vagueamos, as sensações misturam-se e
são estranhas. É como se abrissemos uma brecha no tempo e conseguissemos
espreitar lá muito para trás, para um tempo e um modo de vida que já passou há
muitos séculos. E que, estranhamente, nos parece muito moderno.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg8hTu1mguqGRtnrYLXGLfd4EhkulkeFgh-VB-mfGTmtu-4VNLW0tyETlZHc0w2vfGfXmGnc6JvBe0tpD5z-SpnefXE6O2S3WB-tJKMFi4nr13I5RxJKVY8WIGjSLePtwUiBhe-TkkLWGXfBT1SrdUJbTJOVKIdnV2SeJgZBs6eDaZoCmHlzINBg3/s2794/20230326_123025.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2794" data-original-width="2205" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFg8hTu1mguqGRtnrYLXGLfd4EhkulkeFgh-VB-mfGTmtu-4VNLW0tyETlZHc0w2vfGfXmGnc6JvBe0tpD5z-SpnefXE6O2S3WB-tJKMFi4nr13I5RxJKVY8WIGjSLePtwUiBhe-TkkLWGXfBT1SrdUJbTJOVKIdnV2SeJgZBs6eDaZoCmHlzINBg3/w316-h400/20230326_123025.jpg" width="316" /></a></div><br />Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-2851090136671842492023-02-23T15:20:00.001+00:002023-02-23T15:20:17.118+00:00Jutlândia, de norte a sul<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg5oBGuHjMKtLNbNqPjRpu3s5BijSu-ZX8akDD0JGn1FqLbUA-zwEva2PmTwG3qVILBUAvWy58e5gpQxnOFmNpqyUNuyO_jZspe9cWGq8Ur0pFKVDqi6gKI-arh3Y_ti7jjyY2gPzHitoo0M2sFOOcPx-hDsEPI7ch-Q_B15UEd-nL5AtKTWSPYMPl/s3751/20220817_115135.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2229" data-original-width="3751" height="238" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjg5oBGuHjMKtLNbNqPjRpu3s5BijSu-ZX8akDD0JGn1FqLbUA-zwEva2PmTwG3qVILBUAvWy58e5gpQxnOFmNpqyUNuyO_jZspe9cWGq8Ur0pFKVDqi6gKI-arh3Y_ti7jjyY2gPzHitoo0M2sFOOcPx-hDsEPI7ch-Q_B15UEd-nL5AtKTWSPYMPl/w400-h238/20220817_115135.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Nas margens do Lymfiord</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">A Jutlândia é uma
península localizada no extremo norte da Alemanha e corresponde,
essencialmente, à parte continental da Dinamarca. As zonas mais populosas,
incluindo as cidades de Copenhaga, Odense, Roskilde, situam-se nas ilhas mais orientais.
Assim, a Jutlândia é um retrato mais fiel da Dinamarca rural, entre fiordes,
bosques e colinas douradas. Também aqui cresceram cidades, como Aarhus ou
Aalborg, mas conseguimos rolar durante muitos quilómetros sem trânsito urbano.</span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"></span></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcVKwwo7FyFx4EMlp24p9yW1eph7Ka7jsRNAYFLIykjh0v5ST89Are0ro8NB9muN8ETIsAcxVuiI399rMBE2BG-nULPEMeD41SNyOGD1B1zJf0EjKoUzpN81EqhNd66_eCOVSDRp_HTeqf4zeW5bFidqL7nR6ptYwCxNixc1xejQf9AiMh8WypE9o/s4000/20220816_200821.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPcVKwwo7FyFx4EMlp24p9yW1eph7Ka7jsRNAYFLIykjh0v5ST89Are0ro8NB9muN8ETIsAcxVuiI399rMBE2BG-nULPEMeD41SNyOGD1B1zJf0EjKoUzpN81EqhNd66_eCOVSDRp_HTeqf4zeW5bFidqL7nR6ptYwCxNixc1xejQf9AiMh8WypE9o/w400-h225/20220816_200821.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Igreja catedral de Aalborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Não é difícil
conduzir na Dinamarca. Das auto-estradas (onde o limite de velocidade são os
130 Km/hora) até às pequenas estradas rurais, o piso é sempre bom e bem
cuidado. Não detetámos muitos radares, mas talvez não seja necessário, os
condutores cumprem escrupulosamente os limites de velocidade... Ao contrário do
que se crê, nem tudo é plano e, especialmente aqui na Jutlândia, a paisagem é
mais caracterizada por colinas ondulantes, cultivadas com cereais ou pasto para
os animais. De vez em quando, um lago ou um fiorde obrigam-nos a mais uma
passagem de ferry, o que não nos aborrece nada.</span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKygocWcRE6oDGhY0ezhklwKDh4v_31UCn1mq3n-Oe0_xqoL9HF1mYxUVQlnFUzA2vW3rwHMdYMxJvHog9hx19M10JNe9q0oLWGj_4vgpBQtQeEmzORQdzQykt1Ig2AaTtokHKYrasv5NfBPWJtgqfp8HulPnkJjGLc4Lxp9L21_ExMRc5LgQLaFS/s3801/20220817_113705.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2059" data-original-width="3801" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWKygocWcRE6oDGhY0ezhklwKDh4v_31UCn1mq3n-Oe0_xqoL9HF1mYxUVQlnFUzA2vW3rwHMdYMxJvHog9hx19M10JNe9q0oLWGj_4vgpBQtQeEmzORQdzQykt1Ig2AaTtokHKYrasv5NfBPWJtgqfp8HulPnkJjGLc4Lxp9L21_ExMRc5LgQLaFS/w400-h216/20220817_113705.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No ferryboat de Hvalpsund para <span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">Sundsøre</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Por vezes, é bom
parar junto ao mar e ficar simplesmente a apreciar a quietude do lugar. Foi o
que fizemos junto ao fiorde de Vejle. Segundo as informações, vivem ali e no
estreito de Kattegat cerca de 40 000 golfinhos. Mas não vimos nem um!</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFdG5PMlHyzMOvKca09Mta_7QmH7AkJiVesup4txEtYG0lsGOXt45HAPHnbfQm83L0ifHow-J00mgSXHyufRYQIJVXTzaqG1aCiLoGYkAbqbkQZd45a5NBWpkcAM7RaJCUBoFGE6TV0csSUB9n_WZ-nb5Bf28cXrGqgHb4lWaEjO1zPL_finawCPw/s4000/20220816_115828.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNFdG5PMlHyzMOvKca09Mta_7QmH7AkJiVesup4txEtYG0lsGOXt45HAPHnbfQm83L0ifHow-J00mgSXHyufRYQIJVXTzaqG1aCiLoGYkAbqbkQZd45a5NBWpkcAM7RaJCUBoFGE6TV0csSUB9n_WZ-nb5Bf28cXrGqgHb4lWaEjO1zPL_finawCPw/w400-h225/20220816_115828.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Junto ao fiorde de Vejle</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Gostei muito das
casas tradicionais da Dinamarca. Geralmente, são pintadas de branco, mas também
podem ser amarelas, vermelhas ou ocres, com ou sem travejamento em enxaimel. O
que não pode faltar são os tetos de colmo, alguns já cheios de musgo. Há
imensas nas zonas rurais, o que me faz pensar que não são só folclore. Salta à
vista a frequência de bandeiras dinamarquesas, vermelhas com uma cruz branca,
nos terrenos das quintas e moradias. Compridas e estreitas, voam ao vento como
pendões.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJ-TtXZzgr1lxKXadoVT8mpYUceHfo31aNw5PScHALWq7w6NuIlEBbNUIUiqDkg3Y63HVroZni_wFq-_e4D5SdK6Fy5Qm8B2uVmgmZC_YJKGn_D3z943yZ3B355o68JnKBwWFZcghIRriumk9UjLnwEZvn8hEc1GiiO5KI5LugwR4bgShcp1GwMex/s4000/20220811_182822.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizJ-TtXZzgr1lxKXadoVT8mpYUceHfo31aNw5PScHALWq7w6NuIlEBbNUIUiqDkg3Y63HVroZni_wFq-_e4D5SdK6Fy5Qm8B2uVmgmZC_YJKGn_D3z943yZ3B355o68JnKBwWFZcghIRriumk9UjLnwEZvn8hEc1GiiO5KI5LugwR4bgShcp1GwMex/w400-h225/20220811_182822.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Casa típica rural, com telhados de colmo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vsu7vVkvIR6efHANH_ySbQMOM_e7whhoJ0T19BNH4S2r8seAI63rqz5B41pGoalCjUGq_hTCjKAXBlWE5TZnALjHK5q-4xml_Et0cLYxgXBlB22K-LjP5INHag-cubLO4ZE277T2miewaQQu79_s7njEQtH_SQQKjNT13ihP9LwbGHkS7Mf-UEib/s3674/20220816_195706.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2192" data-original-width="3674" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3vsu7vVkvIR6efHANH_ySbQMOM_e7whhoJ0T19BNH4S2r8seAI63rqz5B41pGoalCjUGq_hTCjKAXBlWE5TZnALjHK5q-4xml_Et0cLYxgXBlB22K-LjP5INHag-cubLO4ZE277T2miewaQQu79_s7njEQtH_SQQKjNT13ihP9LwbGHkS7Mf-UEib/w400-h239/20220816_195706.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Casas tradicionais dos centros urbanos</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Rolamos para
norte, na direção de Aalborg, a cidade mais setentrional da Dinamarca. Em </span></em><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Tølløse</span><em><span style="font-style: normal;">, no meio de um parque natural, tivemos a ideia
de comprar mantimentos e fazer um piquenique. Escolhemos o sítio ideal no
bosque ideal! Altas árvores deixavam entrar umas manchas de sol que batiam no
chão, entre cogumelos aninhados como ramos de flores. Um caminho coberto de
folhas, ainda húmidas da chuva noturna. Troncos de árvore cobertos de musgo,
cantos de pássaros... Um bosque encantado mas... ao longe começou a ouvir-se o
ribombar dos trovões! Só tivemos tempo de saltar para cima da mota. Chuva e trovoada
até Aalborg!</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY533VNm1RfCJfu1DARUgG8ulxb2IG0DUj0kWBot06EMj-H8JmG5Mu2PGY9x71AswE424zKgyQhZiLbgiJkfNingBhfUZY5loxBN2rTCu___yOlx59-s26U_IvR1JxkSCGzIsk9RpasLu9oFaf1QAjVXWRTP59cvTbKg5AXxxTntd4f2rup8RFf04t/s4000/20220816_134851.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY533VNm1RfCJfu1DARUgG8ulxb2IG0DUj0kWBot06EMj-H8JmG5Mu2PGY9x71AswE424zKgyQhZiLbgiJkfNingBhfUZY5loxBN2rTCu___yOlx59-s26U_IvR1JxkSCGzIsk9RpasLu9oFaf1QAjVXWRTP59cvTbKg5AXxxTntd4f2rup8RFf04t/w400-h225/20220816_134851.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um bosque encantado...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Aalborg situa-se
na margem do Limfyord, que separa a Jutlândia das ilhas mais a norte. Não é uma
cidade grande, mas tem muita vida graças à universidade e aos estudantes.
Depois da tempestade, só nos apeteceu um banho quente e um jantar no pub mais
ruidoso da rua mais animada da cidade: a Jomfru Ane, uma rua só com bares,
restaurantes e discotecas. No pub “Proud Mary”, via-se a transmissão do jogo de
futebol do F. C. Copenhagen contra os turcos do TrabzonSport e festejámos os
golos dinamarqueses como verdadeiros nativos.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNsXBF6kwRKiGmbAoXgEQv790LPueHnTCOQjjkTVrpPRB0YPkDMLlXQDdWu1JNQSzU8v4-xEBeW9CgDZe5qv4Z3jSPq1Sa6Eg855JmLef8BTYCegGLClAc_Rx_BkitDMJVrZuHU0m84SlIRD8BgvIU2nJXPODrnASNCtmJJhD9Q_qBkHi9-sUuC-n/s3647/20220816_194618.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2014" data-original-width="3647" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYNsXBF6kwRKiGmbAoXgEQv790LPueHnTCOQjjkTVrpPRB0YPkDMLlXQDdWu1JNQSzU8v4-xEBeW9CgDZe5qv4Z3jSPq1Sa6Eg855JmLef8BTYCegGLClAc_Rx_BkitDMJVrZuHU0m84SlIRD8BgvIU2nJXPODrnASNCtmJJhD9Q_qBkHi9-sUuC-n/w400-h221/20220816_194618.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Passeio de Aalborg junto ao Lymfiord</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4HB7-IFD2TWrmK6C0Qm8wP5KTLV9T2gWHIls8kDgwXKEk0Pq_8tVoZ7gA9paYYRt8ODCncVPcCCKhZyAsQXEzlsmCBwx_Wc2y27ZMekO6X9CmRGNMxR9vbrTZqo2H0UO5jfT_vQ_O33_NklAsQieSKaa60qDQ0cbQ6YVSs15gUpwdh09QA9HNWzQ/s3592/20220816_192702.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3592" data-original-width="2233" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhB4HB7-IFD2TWrmK6C0Qm8wP5KTLV9T2gWHIls8kDgwXKEk0Pq_8tVoZ7gA9paYYRt8ODCncVPcCCKhZyAsQXEzlsmCBwx_Wc2y27ZMekO6X9CmRGNMxR9vbrTZqo2H0UO5jfT_vQ_O33_NklAsQieSKaa60qDQ0cbQ6YVSs15gUpwdh09QA9HNWzQ/w249-h400/20220816_192702.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Sede do banco regional, numa antiga fortaleza</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMsHUI_gqOUcXrNVuPV9MeCJdd1E2dQHpL6kimAwSDaldHTXKMjWdSgfYLXyQ2wnCHX4ljo9x22IyG187xCf63v6oWDeFkBBzsEKEbzrn0GKfFhtJxd2jOJUiaFY-0SDO5l08GF6CBgCYgAzy0P1U7RBVLhCwazJqQWpHYW75kHEpha8sULbBbBhR/s2250/20220816_192014.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2198" data-original-width="2250" height="391" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjMsHUI_gqOUcXrNVuPV9MeCJdd1E2dQHpL6kimAwSDaldHTXKMjWdSgfYLXyQ2wnCHX4ljo9x22IyG187xCf63v6oWDeFkBBzsEKEbzrn0GKfFhtJxd2jOJUiaFY-0SDO5l08GF6CBgCYgAzy0P1U7RBVLhCwazJqQWpHYW75kHEpha8sULbBbBhR/w400-h391/20220816_192014.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A Jomfru Ane</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">É aqui na
Jutlândia que se localiza a que dizem ser a cidade mais antiga da Dinamarca,
Ribe. Fundada no século VIII, no início da era viquingue, é uma cidade
pequenina, mas muito mimosa, com um centro medieval muito bem preservado. As
ruas do centro, pedonais, são ladeadas por casas antigas, algumas já tortas,
denunciando o peso da passagem do tempo.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe6M-gFAxnlZpAGn4yiEN2W74VWgtueIszStc2bBl5cQtAfJQIbSmaGeGUPWj9HztPjnvp4bbzKo9inwSNaPds6KmRqB4woSnH90muEPVnIrRsyDYf_-L4ZoFRnKSYoBaVY3jQWolvuvMWxnRmMVsAK-Sy7aIS9C6whSTAK8uKyBHPmKq7NMbkWkr/s4000/20220818_112306.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHe6M-gFAxnlZpAGn4yiEN2W74VWgtueIszStc2bBl5cQtAfJQIbSmaGeGUPWj9HztPjnvp4bbzKo9inwSNaPds6KmRqB4woSnH90muEPVnIrRsyDYf_-L4ZoFRnKSYoBaVY3jQWolvuvMWxnRmMVsAK-Sy7aIS9C6whSTAK8uKyBHPmKq7NMbkWkr/w400-h225/20220818_112306.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As velhas casas do centro de Ribe</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJLJBFs2lcN-ANY4P1wIPWpR2Mg9PzjtIedVGSn0YMZIHJf0ims9RZEbSjlfCh-qP5MdVXf_mmhh4dLpd-wQqZbYUvdRrcN-kEYAsriYPbhBcK66kFiSGlda0IK7-beUtiR0EmJYy32qF9VrBXSGXyfknRtrxCs0YopYnkqf0S3CxU8geS-1XyC-g/s3264/20220818_111751.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTJLJBFs2lcN-ANY4P1wIPWpR2Mg9PzjtIedVGSn0YMZIHJf0ims9RZEbSjlfCh-qP5MdVXf_mmhh4dLpd-wQqZbYUvdRrcN-kEYAsriYPbhBcK66kFiSGlda0IK7-beUtiR0EmJYy32qF9VrBXSGXyfknRtrxCs0YopYnkqf0S3CxU8geS-1XyC-g/w400-h225/20220818_111751.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Barcos no canal</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfIay613YcM8D2XLEruwDVY7IsN0FAa93NoAMSpfGRfA8UJPywRGfHnLV68-Hwxilr2eA5TFOm1SIkdYuhigKfVNF4pRBFA9PCqo4iLJOnIPpH_zPOSVy-FB2_IMjFqm1_Ar-tWjF-YzbHgbROu4T-BQZkDNExyACCHqnZo7ad7UDDaJtbfIfz1BO/s4000/20220818_114643.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtfIay613YcM8D2XLEruwDVY7IsN0FAa93NoAMSpfGRfA8UJPywRGfHnLV68-Hwxilr2eA5TFOm1SIkdYuhigKfVNF4pRBFA9PCqo4iLJOnIPpH_zPOSVy-FB2_IMjFqm1_Ar-tWjF-YzbHgbROu4T-BQZkDNExyACCHqnZo7ad7UDDaJtbfIfz1BO/w400-h225/20220818_114643.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Pormenores de uma casa antiga</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">No centro da praça
principal, a igreja é muito original, misturando estilos livremente. No
interior da nave lateral, peanhas com figuras medievais contrastam com um
altar-mor cubista! </span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFTH6R4dtfDnH9PjQ0tKPjooRN4cQLqBiJvyaZDDkm7V4thri24pEuFyNdKD9mKI9WioTOoaGH4i40YJcDfN1zeUPX1SUMZHOu0wl41Uhk9mepyiDJ6xZaFy7WtbPz0dWOwDhJOg3z-US1JbuYkUfRW1HWumhVJM2qHrwrMLgmKrOgDvowtlciA9tC/s1934/20220818_112212.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1934" data-original-width="1538" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFTH6R4dtfDnH9PjQ0tKPjooRN4cQLqBiJvyaZDDkm7V4thri24pEuFyNdKD9mKI9WioTOoaGH4i40YJcDfN1zeUPX1SUMZHOu0wl41Uhk9mepyiDJ6xZaFy7WtbPz0dWOwDhJOg3z-US1JbuYkUfRW1HWumhVJM2qHrwrMLgmKrOgDvowtlciA9tC/w318-h400/20220818_112212.jpg" width="318" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A igreja de Ribe</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrA0Wy3zD8phC5C_zwVsuCk7BXF3QJph06LdCjZEaAMWXegTRie-iUe4LpLkMBmNeH8nVD5L2ZTWb_YfEN-oNkk-fNCu_YL6WyHOcjOTRJ7BqoaJ-lzQro8DzwNtUiItp7MsShODUGdnDm6Q-wbgVBSvPs-mouTsmXgP0rOvzGN40ICf2cP3d6i-KW/s2218/20220818_112921.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2218" data-original-width="2159" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrA0Wy3zD8phC5C_zwVsuCk7BXF3QJph06LdCjZEaAMWXegTRie-iUe4LpLkMBmNeH8nVD5L2ZTWb_YfEN-oNkk-fNCu_YL6WyHOcjOTRJ7BqoaJ-lzQro8DzwNtUiItp7MsShODUGdnDm6Q-wbgVBSvPs-mouTsmXgP0rOvzGN40ICf2cP3d6i-KW/w389-h400/20220818_112921.jpg" width="389" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O original altar-mor</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismsCR9YuPgUpemiQ84jXA4Ms_IwnpTwVYWNXko7AcOOoJTBk5YxneLzNIftSxQ2WCCTRya-d4pAFw8QUSl_-ZQl_zFxwHt4gTwTm11_QngctNvkyEx4aCb-NdPLeX1RPaz1JMgbcg9hajow1GGRj9-h16Hzc-aNQoOhXQrp2h55r4lJgRSo6eQt3k/s4000/20220818_113022.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEismsCR9YuPgUpemiQ84jXA4Ms_IwnpTwVYWNXko7AcOOoJTBk5YxneLzNIftSxQ2WCCTRya-d4pAFw8QUSl_-ZQl_zFxwHt4gTwTm11_QngctNvkyEx4aCb-NdPLeX1RPaz1JMgbcg9hajow1GGRj9-h16Hzc-aNQoOhXQrp2h55r4lJgRSo6eQt3k/w225-h400/20220818_113022.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Da sua peanha, S. Jorge continua a matar o dragão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5Lbq56VS2OVtcykzcRmD43Kbx5tl1vOJcmF2WBBBhE44ts-yAQegy6_31ryGyRGxGFmQ35OWhJc14JAQX5E0BAA0AAAPkbu5kR4WR5_Yw-q6c9yxy1QfssKHRTAr0OQHyjR24_q67PKysfffJ18WT7dnL0L3fZd5r57kOu5fK4FIkLpuwrn4GxPK/s4000/20220818_113108.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEje5Lbq56VS2OVtcykzcRmD43Kbx5tl1vOJcmF2WBBBhE44ts-yAQegy6_31ryGyRGxGFmQ35OWhJc14JAQX5E0BAA0AAAPkbu5kR4WR5_Yw-q6c9yxy1QfssKHRTAr0OQHyjR24_q67PKysfffJ18WT7dnL0L3fZd5r57kOu5fK4FIkLpuwrn4GxPK/w225-h400/20220818_113108.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Os bancos ricamente talhados da igreja</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">A igreja está
rodeada por figuras ligadas à evangelização da Escandinávia. A mais espetacular
é a de Asgnar, o padroeiro da Escandinávia, um bispo missionário que fundou a
primeira igreja de Ribe, cerca do ano 860.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilcNXRUY3TisTWsrqjNLZ-c5JDBkcKvlwmwt7tuPQG02q0u1rJ8sEfpT3btPkwroTZHegYPJZHq43JEsywotfDYUZd4ATDVpxiYFSQFrWvxyHJsMSgVdqdliPxYLsDgJpzcJX_rM_m30DjrswJzVdH2BJe2tRa9K-lkWh9gc9iajb7ChhXZmYcH8Q7/s4000/20220818_112624.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilcNXRUY3TisTWsrqjNLZ-c5JDBkcKvlwmwt7tuPQG02q0u1rJ8sEfpT3btPkwroTZHegYPJZHq43JEsywotfDYUZd4ATDVpxiYFSQFrWvxyHJsMSgVdqdliPxYLsDgJpzcJX_rM_m30DjrswJzVdH2BJe2tRa9K-lkWh9gc9iajb7ChhXZmYcH8Q7/w400-h225/20220818_112624.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As estátuas rodeiam a igreja</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7xk5PPJD6BnxbHVJ2I11S5Mcp8pVB4G1O1_BWSKly6k8phJCkxJIQ_JHeODvTxdeE3vIhgjWU2NiucA9EBYw4GaPb0Xi11shtQIc8zUglz415QHPLHAIJQflMxrAh3lZBrv8cHqWh2aU9JYjh0TqhgdBi-8wAbg66F4vGgFltfq4W9HNtQhbM816/s3577/20220818_114107.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3577" data-original-width="2219" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiW7xk5PPJD6BnxbHVJ2I11S5Mcp8pVB4G1O1_BWSKly6k8phJCkxJIQ_JHeODvTxdeE3vIhgjWU2NiucA9EBYw4GaPb0Xi11shtQIc8zUglz415QHPLHAIJQflMxrAh3lZBrv8cHqWh2aU9JYjh0TqhgdBi-8wAbg66F4vGgFltfq4W9HNtQhbM816/w249-h400/20220818_114107.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A estátua de S. Asgnar, o padroeiro da Escandinávia</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Há um riozinho, o
Ribea, que corre pelo meio da cidade, fazendo ainda hoje mover noras e
acrescentando o encanto bucólico do local.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXVLRMp5H3QNOT7h5L1YWkfjgclORfOwzqjChf4wK03NmjKVQMbTzCr3G0Hs88ZST0VFABsvaDRGrBu2P_et5SCxN22ym0Ijy2-S2LdltvJyN3Y-1fS-wCKhKsJXWOiXwKqUnTFAf37jL5Z3jcxp30vuPC8sYtsfu6Q_wEjAE9uD2NcbQN49ev_hck/s4000/20220818_115047.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXVLRMp5H3QNOT7h5L1YWkfjgclORfOwzqjChf4wK03NmjKVQMbTzCr3G0Hs88ZST0VFABsvaDRGrBu2P_et5SCxN22ym0Ijy2-S2LdltvJyN3Y-1fS-wCKhKsJXWOiXwKqUnTFAf37jL5Z3jcxp30vuPC8sYtsfu6Q_wEjAE9uD2NcbQN49ev_hck/w225-h400/20220818_115047.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma nora no rio Ribea</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TcVmRiSHsjXH2OyzzS_O1z7paw2dvUSMijFJ-KH5h5OvK1WqA4idmxk1HeCy_sPQagjpVGh0fCARfGqtGpfl5kJr5fjpjtYAv79AgduMZ-JQ9dP2w53pKwUXhMuPdNw2TYBwp2UhNoDKJomd3mRRtDUqLdZXh-0BWf-eC6E4RyHIQ471tmuqntgh/s2962/20220818_111446.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2962" data-original-width="2173" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_TcVmRiSHsjXH2OyzzS_O1z7paw2dvUSMijFJ-KH5h5OvK1WqA4idmxk1HeCy_sPQagjpVGh0fCARfGqtGpfl5kJr5fjpjtYAv79AgduMZ-JQ9dP2w53pKwUXhMuPdNw2TYBwp2UhNoDKJomd3mRRtDUqLdZXh-0BWf-eC6E4RyHIQ471tmuqntgh/w294-h400/20220818_111446.jpg" width="294" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Um recanto tranquilo</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Dirigimo-nos, por
fim, à costa ocidental da Dinamarca, batida pelo mar do Norte. Depois das
praias do Mar Báltico, de areia fina e temperatura da água muito amena, as
praias do mar do Norte parecem de outra latitude. Os areais quase desertos são
protegidos por dunas batidas pelo vento constante. A cidade de Esbjerg é um
porto piscatório e comercial, não uma estância balnear.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-s9IIruJAyFO0KerhWzjx1OKlnUqdv3h3ObVT8OSjiDWEqGv_6dXdJVlypRM80i5XifYsullYMcHSgxZKtliFVqo8e0YxTCQSK0ybDhgZEbo50SFTZg6AvvD-zbLp-hZbK8wBY3uyrOh2U_5q9hOEyZjOE5qkfOWritiLA_i9qqRN44xaDRQ2t260/s4000/20220817_170004.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-s9IIruJAyFO0KerhWzjx1OKlnUqdv3h3ObVT8OSjiDWEqGv_6dXdJVlypRM80i5XifYsullYMcHSgxZKtliFVqo8e0YxTCQSK0ybDhgZEbo50SFTZg6AvvD-zbLp-hZbK8wBY3uyrOh2U_5q9hOEyZjOE5qkfOWritiLA_i9qqRN44xaDRQ2t260/w400-h225/20220817_170004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma praia no mar do Norte</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBYbaVFKvkrXTzNL51rixMeS-j54m_yl6pFPZWis2s6BQJ0dqlIfJ5XYTxg4Lwe-JMZSe7e3LIbDPZV2xrEVD2piGSZhWE6iZPmQ4l15RygqPYSifjcFJDRGWp25nR0jrm3N_d5Ime-YVa7ueDxMs2FXeJKlLSrpSclJs7nN4gm2jFSbDkOhIAW2q/s3735/20220817_185911.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3735" data-original-width="2101" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKBYbaVFKvkrXTzNL51rixMeS-j54m_yl6pFPZWis2s6BQJ0dqlIfJ5XYTxg4Lwe-JMZSe7e3LIbDPZV2xrEVD2piGSZhWE6iZPmQ4l15RygqPYSifjcFJDRGWp25nR0jrm3N_d5Ime-YVa7ueDxMs2FXeJKlLSrpSclJs7nN4gm2jFSbDkOhIAW2q/w225-h400/20220817_185911.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A Torre da Água, em Esbjerg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYWwcG7YuM9JvWFxSE5bYVddm9WDeSIbkU6mbXmMlE_mu0bukFRBFx9f226uQh3zrLjLkkoYm7a3KwCF9TYGYQ-qJ2DlMyTG-Nf7trzAKOOn87KvUKZ7CKrVWIPCufQb3MC9F79ZSN18YWXN2I-MN8DX_2f6g8OVycPqRescP7fvis7x9yoBRGaI-/s3798/20220817_191426.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2059" data-original-width="3798" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoYWwcG7YuM9JvWFxSE5bYVddm9WDeSIbkU6mbXmMlE_mu0bukFRBFx9f226uQh3zrLjLkkoYm7a3KwCF9TYGYQ-qJ2DlMyTG-Nf7trzAKOOn87KvUKZ7CKrVWIPCufQb3MC9F79ZSN18YWXN2I-MN8DX_2f6g8OVycPqRescP7fvis7x9yoBRGaI-/w400-h216/20220817_191426.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A igreja de Esbjerg, uma construção em tijolo típica desta região</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">A norte de
Esbjerg, estende-se o Parque Nacional Wadden See. Praias e dunas a perder de
vista. É aí que se ergue a grande instalação “Man meets the Sea”, colocada em
1994. São quatro estátuas brancas, gigantescas, que estão sentadas e olham o
mar. A informação disponível refere que o branco simboliza um ser humano puro e
inocente. Quanto a isso não digo nada. Mas foi destas costas que, há muitos
séculos, os destemidos navegadores viquingues afrontaram o mar para irem em
busca do seu destino. Um destino que foi tão grande como estes gigantes que
agora olham o mesmo mar.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZmvOjlpZDv8QUluEh48pBMpWwZtM5609IbV_l8bMKcu051c172vgk6FtI-VhcjsoEamuEmpkrwaKRR4b2FkyZ8ToYaTy1eRpI7umvWLfsWux1F-sel7kDnfpbRzQ1yALUfz8NeAW1gv6Qa2aXo_bMlzYmYwxiAtCebsdZHm7lDRwmdwmUTtl-Ldk/s4000/20220817_165948.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjZmvOjlpZDv8QUluEh48pBMpWwZtM5609IbV_l8bMKcu051c172vgk6FtI-VhcjsoEamuEmpkrwaKRR4b2FkyZ8ToYaTy1eRpI7umvWLfsWux1F-sel7kDnfpbRzQ1yALUfz8NeAW1gv6Qa2aXo_bMlzYmYwxiAtCebsdZHm7lDRwmdwmUTtl-Ldk/w400-h225/20220817_165948.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><i>Man meets the Sea</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em></span><p></p><br /><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-89434454933254659902023-01-28T15:38:00.001+00:002023-01-28T15:38:51.923+00:00Uma escapadela provençal – Marselha<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGOnAajl2qYuNYCLxllGEo31qMywmzb5AXcJOTZJbZLSxeX5K19QYuiZpp0cU8rIRbd_Qes4U3fb_pWXdARPFFCgKMzJmLTlayi2x09P78bFd51PMHjXH6RHrX4pZnFq33rhZtZiWmRhQ-bivJXvnXgcnqV3kH687GQEX_UXNnQtg0OzoXUug3dcW/s3735/20221202_121925.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2101" data-original-width="3735" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDGOnAajl2qYuNYCLxllGEo31qMywmzb5AXcJOTZJbZLSxeX5K19QYuiZpp0cU8rIRbd_Qes4U3fb_pWXdARPFFCgKMzJmLTlayi2x09P78bFd51PMHjXH6RHrX4pZnFq33rhZtZiWmRhQ-bivJXvnXgcnqV3kH687GQEX_UXNnQtg0OzoXUug3dcW/w400-h225/20221202_121925.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Marselha e a basílica de Notre Dame de la Garde vistas do topo do Chateau d'If</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 17.12px;"></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Marselha
é a cidade mais antiga de França. Foi fundada pelos gregos que lhe chamaram
Massilia há 2600 anos, mais coisa menos coisa. Capital da Provença, hoje é a
segunda cidade mais populosa de França, logo a seguir a Paris, e o seu clube de
futebol é o que junta mais adeptos! E, todavia, não é um destino turístico dos
mais óbvios, dentro da França. Colou-se-lhe o rótulo de cidade perigosa, do
crime organizado, com muitos bairros problemáticos. Um pouco como Nápoles...</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmo6sR9SA2LoLO7Uc6yyy3qyWL4pHF39q0HvwjYA0QJ1UzPLJsQ4TUMaZ1j_uVs1z1XS_CPhRS7EHY58Z3ID1L4vu_3PK34N3_RCJz_uq0BFqAJYhVAMkOoa9xa_8s6MhhqkjpaX2BNYUe_Zb9SRI3KMLvCCEmB-usJnDWURDkmsaEOOFu92TPhnlO/w400-h225/20221202_100331.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A grandiosa escadaria que leva à estação dos Caminhos de Ferro, a Gare Saint Charles. Vestígios de tempos mais prósperos...<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-N1GNoeNRa1ys7R4sq3rRpCejq7YsR-BBBJKBb6bA7LgF-VY_KRyaWk_nkrGQOq2jMSp9CND9lEFmgmn-xaozi1m3TZtkPVd1bPpB5o1SPsrwFJ5qKg-aXvbt18WP4F1ijNv1WFkthuPjK9ey2N_qeyl1SsaP6HoMiIe1gDgDy2mNxODANEgEXXdj/s3257/20221202_153433.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="1638" data-original-width="3257" height="201" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-N1GNoeNRa1ys7R4sq3rRpCejq7YsR-BBBJKBb6bA7LgF-VY_KRyaWk_nkrGQOq2jMSp9CND9lEFmgmn-xaozi1m3TZtkPVd1bPpB5o1SPsrwFJ5qKg-aXvbt18WP4F1ijNv1WFkthuPjK9ey2N_qeyl1SsaP6HoMiIe1gDgDy2mNxODANEgEXXdj/w400-h201/20221202_153433.jpg" width="400" /></a></div></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">Memorial aos soldados mortos nas guerras do Ultramar</span></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBCbbhV2Za4_8kiSunHfU3BoNDuMPA1JOidgKqRg7svlhzweLyCDGHG7g5WuNNxnN3KxTqdmkHyCu0BCjg5C56Z94fqLEYMj2XcreVrV169uJD_3FEBJ-J_Kv3MSA2Kwd-xIlvmL_uK2NUj5T5UbHM0V_e0PNwJh4Eb1F_Ivull86EkHaw-yrKQlS/s4000/20221203_095537.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuBCbbhV2Za4_8kiSunHfU3BoNDuMPA1JOidgKqRg7svlhzweLyCDGHG7g5WuNNxnN3KxTqdmkHyCu0BCjg5C56Z94fqLEYMj2XcreVrV169uJD_3FEBJ-J_Kv3MSA2Kwd-xIlvmL_uK2NUj5T5UbHM0V_e0PNwJh4Eb1F_Ivull86EkHaw-yrKQlS/w400-h225/20221203_095537.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Câmara Municipal de Marselha</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Nestas
questões, como em muitas outras, há que relativizar a informação e agir com
sensatez e precaução. É sensato evitar os subúrbios e, se calhar, não é o
destino turístico mais adequado para quem quer curtir a noite. Mas tendo os
cuidados normais de segurança, não há nenhuma razão que nos impeça de visitar esta
cidade que nos oferece uma história fascinante, desdobrada em muitas histórias
e muitos locais. Basta lembrarmos que foi aqui que nasceu o hino “A
Marselhesa”, para sempre associado à defesa dos valores que ainda hoje nos
regem, a Liberdade, a Igualdade, a Fraternidade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhiTmfLwWNJbjNU-kMNtk2gR5TdzqbKEOS3NR2awwxF_uP0dJ5YhrdBJdaI7ld2SmlEKHTQigFiAgZUZfLpgO1TOy61qi53qt6I-RjXhhq-n7VLMf67Heybs4HfRqgapIKWdcrRHHK_g3H4Bmx8dvrT5WvA-kz1NtHEErNtBw8O84FHdj4bc8csQTD/s4000/20221202_101530.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhiTmfLwWNJbjNU-kMNtk2gR5TdzqbKEOS3NR2awwxF_uP0dJ5YhrdBJdaI7ld2SmlEKHTQigFiAgZUZfLpgO1TOy61qi53qt6I-RjXhhq-n7VLMf67Heybs4HfRqgapIKWdcrRHHK_g3H4Bmx8dvrT5WvA-kz1NtHEErNtBw8O84FHdj4bc8csQTD/w225-h400/20221202_101530.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Memorial da Marselhesa é um pequeno museu, que está em obras</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqojGsnW9fdB_b2DyJTqnWlSYTqih5DxB-JVqFIOREtPI2xqjWusYmRrG322K5CpcdzPiRBUXHmVvUf1C-UxQwad1mT4POL2_zf2Ah0vHzFXpKEK7JGbekGEp4XOhys2DA9-24LmDTQBlgKupUr4FFR1VfOQ6USq9SFEVhrMJ-8R6wqjXETpgbaCrS/s4000/20221201_214907.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqojGsnW9fdB_b2DyJTqnWlSYTqih5DxB-JVqFIOREtPI2xqjWusYmRrG322K5CpcdzPiRBUXHmVvUf1C-UxQwad1mT4POL2_zf2Ah0vHzFXpKEK7JGbekGEp4XOhys2DA9-24LmDTQBlgKupUr4FFR1VfOQ6USq9SFEVhrMJ-8R6wqjXETpgbaCrS/w400-h225/20221201_214907.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O porto, à noite...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoC7mRFuuo9XmhUKDvkbZ6asKmYLyZUAmG7Qgkz5ebY5YbvSw2PMKgUlAMjRwYjaDn3wFXFUxyuZActaSN0B8GZwmx4-kzmiy_zJAH5HN2dyQUCNheVK3XHhQEbL2EhBnDcsj7Z_uNANMohn2Cn42gJrrS2GcTG_9bbqFdocTkXTyXj-ap_bVBwmfp/s4000/20221201_220004.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoC7mRFuuo9XmhUKDvkbZ6asKmYLyZUAmG7Qgkz5ebY5YbvSw2PMKgUlAMjRwYjaDn3wFXFUxyuZActaSN0B8GZwmx4-kzmiy_zJAH5HN2dyQUCNheVK3XHhQEbL2EhBnDcsj7Z_uNANMohn2Cn42gJrrS2GcTG_9bbqFdocTkXTyXj-ap_bVBwmfp/w400-h225/20221201_220004.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">La Canebière, à noite</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O
coração da cidade é o Porto Velho, o <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">Vieux
Port, </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">onde os gregos lançaram
âncora há tantos séculos atrás. É uma ampla enseada natural, protegida dos maus
humores marítimos pelas ilhas do arquipélago do Friul. As ruas principais ali
vão desembocar, como </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">La Canebière,
</i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">a rua principal, mais larga e mais
comercial. Mas à volta do Porto Velho, nas docas assim como nas ruas que
rodeiam o porto, a animação não pára. Há bares e restaurantes para todos os
gostos. Ali se pode experimentar o prato típico marselhês, a </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bouillabaisse, </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">uma espécie de caldeirada. E os peixes para a </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">bouillabaisse </i><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: italic;">podem-se comprar mesmo ali, no porto velho, no mercado tradicional que
anima todas as manhãs a beira do cais.<o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2_MDclHghxTdAEWU9Ry0E2-M0O07_yF3fG8immAUCBQWqdPst5ZaprWMNWiwIltg09Ov5g3VDZdDs20XztuL52K65ZINYFMhjIc53OFtB0IZqNE79CnCtTOrlIhH1U34ViEYpULrNZjUOzcmWpkGGR0_p7pl9yLmunYQvjGqqqsTFdmx04OhUS0H/s4000/20221201_210206.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgo2_MDclHghxTdAEWU9Ry0E2-M0O07_yF3fG8immAUCBQWqdPst5ZaprWMNWiwIltg09Ov5g3VDZdDs20XztuL52K65ZINYFMhjIc53OFtB0IZqNE79CnCtTOrlIhH1U34ViEYpULrNZjUOzcmWpkGGR0_p7pl9yLmunYQvjGqqqsTFdmx04OhUS0H/w400-h225/20221201_210206.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><span style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">A </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal; text-align: justify;">bouillabaisse</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eLx64yFWh4wfzgza6fLZKpvEsKC99OVT90xblibkvxTZvVBDho5KjmF5dBzMzdLw_j49BRmLRDEPu4jPIctg5cWmc2oZcAcUA2RW0i-h-lzbAQoShSTonI-n1d4L32Uzfgt1d0jRf7IdhW9cb41TbXQaPurpdicVeAprHELW177wFoW4poD2JmmV/s4000/20221202_104106.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9eLx64yFWh4wfzgza6fLZKpvEsKC99OVT90xblibkvxTZvVBDho5KjmF5dBzMzdLw_j49BRmLRDEPu4jPIctg5cWmc2oZcAcUA2RW0i-h-lzbAQoShSTonI-n1d4L32Uzfgt1d0jRf7IdhW9cb41TbXQaPurpdicVeAprHELW177wFoW4poD2JmmV/w400-h225/20221202_104106.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O tradicional mercado do peixe</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A vida da cidade flui para o velho porto, tudo ali
acontece. É ali que as pessoas se juntam, para tratar de negócios ou para
festejar. Quando estivemos em Marselha, a seleção de futebol de Marrocos tinha
ganho um jogo importante e a numerosa comunidade de imigrantes magrebinos
festejava o acontecimento debaixo de uma grande pala espelhada junto ao cais. O
efeito era fantástico: o grande espelho sobre a multidão refletia e
multiplicava os festejos, já de si ruidosos e coloridos.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm89hKcNj16I-r2cgG6SweX8dhSo-VcZavPeYet9Uc15bt9DGitXjTPQKiiPW7uuiNx7C3Q0IXCFgX3YJ_8TAhwF170LgkEYmTh2ilx7mCpMXM5WSq1dDE-Pv2pEmXZTk5bp2F03Ej3k5SDjogWQzckFYOsIkyTEF7JH2Zw0oRNFTrGkwxVTfhlFwn/s4000/20221201_200421.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm89hKcNj16I-r2cgG6SweX8dhSo-VcZavPeYet9Uc15bt9DGitXjTPQKiiPW7uuiNx7C3Q0IXCFgX3YJ_8TAhwF170LgkEYmTh2ilx7mCpMXM5WSq1dDE-Pv2pEmXZTk5bp2F03Ej3k5SDjogWQzckFYOsIkyTEF7JH2Zw0oRNFTrGkwxVTfhlFwn/w400-h225/20221201_200421.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A pála espelhada multiplica a festa</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">O </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Vieux Port</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> é tão grande e com tantos barcos, de todos os
feitios, que pode passar despercebido o velho </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">ferry </span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">que cruza o porto a
todas as meias horas. Por 50 cêntimos poupam-se os muitos passos necessários
para rodear o cais... </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8T-jeNWLKIkZ9GQvlJrEUO4rSVikDi9WJInJ52r9Vh6KM9O1OE-WRxjVCBh4NhdQEl7yFupuAD793UeqxMq1q-BKEGFIdK0oPR6GJR_dLZIWGy1duZiZeNvU9DlQatK-oiVRnO4yq6hcV_KLoiAVKscbhecccuzwCNkIHU6epLmg0ajnoAvbnNqy/s3826/20221203_095459.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2123" data-original-width="3826" height="223" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhK8T-jeNWLKIkZ9GQvlJrEUO4rSVikDi9WJInJ52r9Vh6KM9O1OE-WRxjVCBh4NhdQEl7yFupuAD793UeqxMq1q-BKEGFIdK0oPR6GJR_dLZIWGy1duZiZeNvU9DlQatK-oiVRnO4yq6hcV_KLoiAVKscbhecccuzwCNkIHU6epLmg0ajnoAvbnNqy/w400-h223/20221203_095459.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O ferry que cruza o porto a cada meia hora</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Do lado esquerdo de quem olha a cidade a partir do mar, fica o
bairro mais antigo da cidade, </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Le Panier</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">, de ruelas estreitas e casas antigas que sobem a
colina. Um dos edifícios mais notáveis é uma casa coberta de pedras talhadas em
ponta de diamante, uma espécie de Casa dos Bicos. Onde é que eu já vi isto? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbkzv4VY1bEuJfUS7WJ-2s0hute44EFtS9CEcrnCq6artr5h1X9TtPtHJkJWQz6N1a6U-B1nxyW2K2t8g0oYF1XPkcBv_4iVjepDEFOCT3BfxbNgqH3osRxIaAzqwkysrPacvCZ9l5SWUAO867gQUHLRhH81i5lQxyq0O0HcmJ6CIluYUcN2V5f6P/s4000/20221202_145559.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEikbkzv4VY1bEuJfUS7WJ-2s0hute44EFtS9CEcrnCq6artr5h1X9TtPtHJkJWQz6N1a6U-B1nxyW2K2t8g0oYF1XPkcBv_4iVjepDEFOCT3BfxbNgqH3osRxIaAzqwkysrPacvCZ9l5SWUAO867gQUHLRhH81i5lQxyq0O0HcmJ6CIluYUcN2V5f6P/w400-h225/20221202_145559.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Mais uma Casa dos Bicos?</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXB29Alxcr9ndcRkvVK6-hwCagQeS4Is5TcM4uYdrdmqxVIcVgcOmd0N76SZfupvBlkPHHjfaeP77-RQyX5zMxEzI-4KfMe7xI7n0ktkhW8YMcNGnvvhYi74wHfmdXf72aqI6a_FxbfqoCWaPCAQfpkKxMUbpW5iWwUR06BXaCO4PBEY91fPEx1oKk/s3516/20221202_150257.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3516" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXB29Alxcr9ndcRkvVK6-hwCagQeS4Is5TcM4uYdrdmqxVIcVgcOmd0N76SZfupvBlkPHHjfaeP77-RQyX5zMxEzI-4KfMe7xI7n0ktkhW8YMcNGnvvhYi74wHfmdXf72aqI6a_FxbfqoCWaPCAQfpkKxMUbpW5iWwUR06BXaCO4PBEY91fPEx1oKk/w256-h400/20221202_150257.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A basílica de Notre Dame de la Garde vista do bairro Le Panier</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A entrada do porto é fechada por dois fortes, Saint-Nicholas
e Saint-Jean, que podiam facilmente proteger a cidade de ataques inimigos.
Acima do forte Saint-Nicholas destaca-se o imponente Palais du Phare, mandado
construir por Napoleão que, no entanto, nunca aí passou uma noite.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWRw0No2ALKjIh_5x9l6C2zygpTC5bVQkEK5sOsJuTIoj-4A1bCMxsTKgFFnEhL-LCzQWzjCAF_VbUBrkBEJsPVh2EfUu_0eI069JcIkfz6jnKp6lbQPYSFwapCUFcFF9KOYN84z12eZz0l0B6zwXr8Da5Um7q1qXh9F6ds_ZqcsTOSPipXO9kp_J/s4000/20221202_132854.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwWRw0No2ALKjIh_5x9l6C2zygpTC5bVQkEK5sOsJuTIoj-4A1bCMxsTKgFFnEhL-LCzQWzjCAF_VbUBrkBEJsPVh2EfUu_0eI069JcIkfz6jnKp6lbQPYSFwapCUFcFF9KOYN84z12eZz0l0B6zwXr8Da5Um7q1qXh9F6ds_ZqcsTOSPipXO9kp_J/w400-h225/20221202_132854.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O grande Palais du Phare</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9d-Uxu6iZ87M_tQMp91wfaKdqRbXTcrJ8nCIrhjH6affCOIX8C3eKOB_R9K9ocfwMkukOv93a0veaz51Box7jwjzOMu5ihd-JSb1c6g6RMf3NHma5GCyQtECxlf2Mt2009X0DXM7DJXkJKPu5K4OK-45x_-ifvuRud53chNuaXMDohHtAT2pvY7N/s3894/20221202_110914.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1950" data-original-width="3894" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEju9d-Uxu6iZ87M_tQMp91wfaKdqRbXTcrJ8nCIrhjH6affCOIX8C3eKOB_R9K9ocfwMkukOv93a0veaz51Box7jwjzOMu5ihd-JSb1c6g6RMf3NHma5GCyQtECxlf2Mt2009X0DXM7DJXkJKPu5K4OK-45x_-ifvuRud53chNuaXMDohHtAT2pvY7N/w400-h200/20221202_110914.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Palais du Phare com a entrada do porto</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Do outro lado, o forte Saint-Jean está hoje
integrado no grande Museu das Civilizações do Mediterrâneo, o MUCEM, um espaço
museológico enorme e moderníssimo que, no entanto, mergulha as raízes no
passado, nas ligações que cruzam o Mediterrâneo e entrelaçam as suas tradições
e formas de vida milenares. É impossível ir a Marselha e ficar indiferente ao
MUCEM, seja pela arquitetura arrojada, seja pelas exposições e pelo próprio
espaço. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHrJ-UVThoEMsJ2_FnmGYyperDN3tUggO3ZOy0krAE_QsT5IWzmZQ9B07Ye3J3ozZwMdEX134q0v_urmpU0WpJ2_yvnCdIoGTbfumMWdkIqc9CAuqVXAI_aN43PkJH1NA25373giBp8-9r4PbsIUpLWFQU0pxC-R0J86LqBgFNJY0fJUJxW8eynt0/s4000/20221202_163422.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaHrJ-UVThoEMsJ2_FnmGYyperDN3tUggO3ZOy0krAE_QsT5IWzmZQ9B07Ye3J3ozZwMdEX134q0v_urmpU0WpJ2_yvnCdIoGTbfumMWdkIqc9CAuqVXAI_aN43PkJH1NA25373giBp8-9r4PbsIUpLWFQU0pxC-R0J86LqBgFNJY0fJUJxW8eynt0/w400-h225/20221202_163422.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada do MUCEM pelo Fort Saint Jean</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERSFCmDI25BDaGd3ZIJESqU4QdUmyvzvbi4bDTIhCJ8OJcDXb2qlORYytsnr8U-zOHOQI08jJiXi2w5f-CMvsnkhbNS4ccKbquMR8kWfE-ThkN8FrEPq8ao6Kau6L4mNtiGorUTJRtIm83cBy1EmF6qTfeuN1gi1GUYXDimtcn6faxHALyjFLh75B/s4000/20221202_164409.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiERSFCmDI25BDaGd3ZIJESqU4QdUmyvzvbi4bDTIhCJ8OJcDXb2qlORYytsnr8U-zOHOQI08jJiXi2w5f-CMvsnkhbNS4ccKbquMR8kWfE-ThkN8FrEPq8ao6Kau6L4mNtiGorUTJRtIm83cBy1EmF6qTfeuN1gi1GUYXDimtcn6faxHALyjFLh75B/w400-h225/20221202_164409.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O cubo de malha de betão que alberga as exposições permanentes</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPVrEGqqYx5YblbK8vUFYMg8iIBJPw279wNsRCFfjue-_4uvqSrwrFprYKr9v2zXdJiAH1Ak3MRDlOOT0z13MRG7GMeq1OgCwEXd8O6sciBhELlONGy-z2W0J7MgbI4UlnfeNrQUwzKA_yFl64jCsShdf8nnoACpgDDGMgzlIgZBMzdX3HXMA2dpc_/s4000/20221203_114120.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiPVrEGqqYx5YblbK8vUFYMg8iIBJPw279wNsRCFfjue-_4uvqSrwrFprYKr9v2zXdJiAH1Ak3MRDlOOT0z13MRG7GMeq1OgCwEXd8O6sciBhELlONGy-z2W0J7MgbI4UlnfeNrQUwzKA_yFl64jCsShdf8nnoACpgDDGMgzlIgZBMzdX3HXMA2dpc_/w400-h225/20221203_114120.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">De dentro para fora...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As ilhas do arquipélago do Friul são interessantes
e visitáveis, especialmente para os que gostam de turismo de natureza. Mas há
uma ilha especial, a que alberga a velha prisão onde Alexandre Dumas colocou a
intriga do seu Conde de Monte Cristo, o Chateau d’If. Há barcos que a todas as
horas fazem a ligação entre o porto e a Ilha d’If. Aparentemente, esta espécie
de turismo carcerário tem muitos adeptos, desde o século XIX. Gostei de visitar
o pequeno castelo-prisão. Mas, mais uma vez, fascinou-me a forma como a
literatura toma posse dos lugares e os transfigura. Nunca existiu um Conde de
Monte-Cristo, a não ser na imaginação de Dumas, mas pode-se visitar a cela onde
ele terá estado preso, com direito a uma pequena tabuleta identificativa.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiANGLqTRGIk6m31EPlRQOt74WEMv9rHGks0z5rBBJ3I9dLY3YTwSdie6hnuHjIFWUkfVBXPYFjcLXqFQuUIoTZN18cEb1swOy9TioDc-avSKzCsdo7YmlFrUk1TZB523WbklVuyY6Ug9Rd3Y1arQNYvRaSKGae3G6wcE5UJXQiHf7OIDwNYK1EvpZ3/s4000/20221202_111445.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiANGLqTRGIk6m31EPlRQOt74WEMv9rHGks0z5rBBJ3I9dLY3YTwSdie6hnuHjIFWUkfVBXPYFjcLXqFQuUIoTZN18cEb1swOy9TioDc-avSKzCsdo7YmlFrUk1TZB523WbklVuyY6Ug9Rd3Y1arQNYvRaSKGae3G6wcE5UJXQiHf7OIDwNYK1EvpZ3/w400-h225/20221202_111445.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A ilha d'If</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIyl0yOc75VufOx9HyM6dXxllcWZWqnEmDOLzeAOQqqKLXZfYpSSyWWChmjBKxoYWBCkQwVgtW1GSNsjwT2GbrqtWCBuHf6OVnfn9oOOoHL4-lqNvsDnkm3FbdwS4VQRYkufGaRZt-k8OSfFWxstOngSIB0jZxvPF6BV6zOp0bECGKeon-NnpR9Qy/s4000/20221202_112320.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrIyl0yOc75VufOx9HyM6dXxllcWZWqnEmDOLzeAOQqqKLXZfYpSSyWWChmjBKxoYWBCkQwVgtW1GSNsjwT2GbrqtWCBuHf6OVnfn9oOOoHL4-lqNvsDnkm3FbdwS4VQRYkufGaRZt-k8OSfFWxstOngSIB0jZxvPF6BV6zOp0bECGKeon-NnpR9Qy/w400-h225/20221202_112320.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A fortaleza-prisão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinv5Q0a1-nXr9dq9zxWHT50pGjL1frRfX4gz3lGR4EZkupnIwUMRwcdJOCCpZJG0Ghcl7GD3rGmcAPw4F-srvbUdk5b-8ud6VfsAA9RGixNnNSENoMTL368Ka0tzd7PJ0Rq2mn310ShIBDNXlng2GhB8pqNDfNl1y1p5m9mrMtfw8YI5x8HtCPuaTa/s4000/20221202_114429.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEinv5Q0a1-nXr9dq9zxWHT50pGjL1frRfX4gz3lGR4EZkupnIwUMRwcdJOCCpZJG0Ghcl7GD3rGmcAPw4F-srvbUdk5b-8ud6VfsAA9RGixNnNSENoMTL368Ka0tzd7PJ0Rq2mn310ShIBDNXlng2GhB8pqNDfNl1y1p5m9mrMtfw8YI5x8HtCPuaTa/w225-h400/20221202_114429.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O pátio central da fortaleza</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjew_tR7YZax5G06wFmgWsxwG9_VgxNLsQCBrZEG86wD_pMnjOIIR-x9CtP0Dfo3tHh-licGwdV-_85JmMpu8sfNNvjqBdnbHLOpZVx6fFHCvJ2hebOkESFMCgjl8A4dEsxvLMvQOntZhOU_Ob7rP5ErvDWysyDs_voLsu5_we2ZYLCDxyrTdQKoW1b/s4000/20221202_114529.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjew_tR7YZax5G06wFmgWsxwG9_VgxNLsQCBrZEG86wD_pMnjOIIR-x9CtP0Dfo3tHh-licGwdV-_85JmMpu8sfNNvjqBdnbHLOpZVx6fFHCvJ2hebOkESFMCgjl8A4dEsxvLMvQOntZhOU_Ob7rP5ErvDWysyDs_voLsu5_we2ZYLCDxyrTdQKoW1b/w225-h400/20221202_114529.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada da cela dita de Edmond Dantès</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A bordo do barco que faz a ligação com a ilha d’If,
o nosso olhar não pode deixar de ser atraído pela enorme figura de Notre Dame
de la Garde. Situada na colina sobre Marselha, a basílica coroada por uma
estátua monumental da Virgem Maria com o Menino é como um íman: visível de
todos os lados, é a figura tutelar da cidade. Mas é preciso subir até à
basílica para entendermos bem essa ligação com a cidade. A grande figura
dourada da Virgem segurando o Menino Jesus está colocada num pedestal sobre a
basílica. Dos seus terraços, tem-se uma vista panorâmica maravilhosa, desde as
ilhas do Friul, passando por toda a cidade de Marselha, até aos contrafortes
dos Alpes Marítimos. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1mdUjD0_mszsorCWfZTZqWHa-X5zVXQYLZZggXJ9AlBCR9VdGv3a4lvlhhoqtE9cCRk1JCu59_cM63P58qRWZuWIyacu6sDhLKva5Nme0CVlbGadarp-zupN_3FQj4_Kt7lXSyTPoeToMb7fi8V-5qNrlBqO_tkyxwGAiuEOFqupnWTE2EgeHqKfi/s3198/20221202_133034.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3198" data-original-width="2129" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1mdUjD0_mszsorCWfZTZqWHa-X5zVXQYLZZggXJ9AlBCR9VdGv3a4lvlhhoqtE9cCRk1JCu59_cM63P58qRWZuWIyacu6sDhLKva5Nme0CVlbGadarp-zupN_3FQj4_Kt7lXSyTPoeToMb7fi8V-5qNrlBqO_tkyxwGAiuEOFqupnWTE2EgeHqKfi/w266-h400/20221202_133034.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Notre Dame de la Garde, vista do porto</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUeq-q0P54T3QX5vP6OednS8A5FYeHHkyqXOLNIDL0FG-xN4ZSOojMZ5r9NNi0wMYywaj1cFczUsqB0Sj1Gnz68xBQqxbTYb05-Jcw--BfxtHJooidtBLf3WSKL9dgxeYpsHsH-fvSmF_kTluf7hIwddS7TeLJ7PmmmS-fz-HuGEzfxMH2CHK6sWoQ/s4000/20221202_160158.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUeq-q0P54T3QX5vP6OednS8A5FYeHHkyqXOLNIDL0FG-xN4ZSOojMZ5r9NNi0wMYywaj1cFczUsqB0Sj1Gnz68xBQqxbTYb05-Jcw--BfxtHJooidtBLf3WSKL9dgxeYpsHsH-fvSmF_kTluf7hIwddS7TeLJ7PmmmS-fz-HuGEzfxMH2CHK6sWoQ/w400-h225/20221202_160158.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As ilhas do arquipélago do Friul, vistas da esplanada da basílica</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KhLUdJQAO9AtAhuwzIw6qrIeH_GmfOtGEVXXAcX4HF6dt3jZxw1wfHI2ac7mkjOA7_3ozkCgjC7eyDPSI4M-XqWyCu7jMUxKh2Lq0ypVnEgTUs3kVKjJDMS-2rcqzW0avBEZoomCBqQAb4Iy7LuULnkP4_HPgI8iSAAi7lfacqPN1GL3IXveqWIC/s3863/20221202_155151.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2173" data-original-width="3863" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0KhLUdJQAO9AtAhuwzIw6qrIeH_GmfOtGEVXXAcX4HF6dt3jZxw1wfHI2ac7mkjOA7_3ozkCgjC7eyDPSI4M-XqWyCu7jMUxKh2Lq0ypVnEgTUs3kVKjJDMS-2rcqzW0avBEZoomCBqQAb4Iy7LuULnkP4_HPgI8iSAAi7lfacqPN1GL3IXveqWIC/w400-h225/20221202_155151.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Memorial aos missionários </span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">A basílica de Notre Dame de la Garde, chamada pelos
marselheses de </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">bonne mère</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;">, foi construída apenas no século XIX, numa colina
onde já existiam várias capelas e um posto de vigia. De estilo neobizantino, mostra
uma sucessão de cúpulas, frescos, mosaicos coloridos e pedras policromadas, mas
talvez o mais interessante sejam os inúmeros elementos marítimos e </span><i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">ex-votos</span></i><span style="line-height: 107%;"> aí deixados pelos
marinheiros de Marselha.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavtEG-7QZlUfKfhE10zEfKUOczmwRrJtzx8g0rEQeckqZHoCvEffTPRINb3_p-01VyzK-kugWlnsKYIrFLQY6caNa0oJHx008cNZDVk4Em2faOW2Va86f3IZzHnAaGoHA6N_lvaPuG0VNE4LQreANRL0rucxBgQemDEfejEYGSNTeLIo2p9Q6wI8K/s3032/20221202_154959.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3032" data-original-width="2023" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgavtEG-7QZlUfKfhE10zEfKUOczmwRrJtzx8g0rEQeckqZHoCvEffTPRINb3_p-01VyzK-kugWlnsKYIrFLQY6caNa0oJHx008cNZDVk4Em2faOW2Va86f3IZzHnAaGoHA6N_lvaPuG0VNE4LQreANRL0rucxBgQemDEfejEYGSNTeLIo2p9Q6wI8K/w268-h400/20221202_154959.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Subindo para a basílica de Notre Dame de la Garde</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhPCJ7px4lausItSH3KdRBgeUByA6efoIGk82ihcx2O1lQDlR3GmZETlf5WznW5UPc8s12P6v6yc08R7okyVZyT8QQ9QW8ELneabFx_4FD96vJlIRtE7zPBgB7nDSHwOW-TkgT6jgRHQxSS8Aj9glJ0ym1YTO7DgquEzLiqK1iWsuh6vVfcCHFPDE/s3599/20221202_160801.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3599" data-original-width="2233" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgDhPCJ7px4lausItSH3KdRBgeUByA6efoIGk82ihcx2O1lQDlR3GmZETlf5WznW5UPc8s12P6v6yc08R7okyVZyT8QQ9QW8ELneabFx_4FD96vJlIRtE7zPBgB7nDSHwOW-TkgT6jgRHQxSS8Aj9glJ0ym1YTO7DgquEzLiqK1iWsuh6vVfcCHFPDE/w249-h400/20221202_160801.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Vista lateral da basílica</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1IH9J07Wc_lHYkBgKffsQ1IhOij6UMEAFAObrLQBtnmzB8k23ozT1NEV9JmL5ejCfQxK8aaH4d0SeYLHO7vZAIk-_FjbQ4MPQjOqtRomAx9MksuFNFu6K70VOnajtHb8wjysGWHznqeKjFEhQ0JcFQCBGE_KjtPALcUXnQY83NUGRmBoh8CEdVHrJ/s2249/Altar%20mor%20Notre%20Dame%20de%20la%20Garde.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1942" data-original-width="2249" height="345" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1IH9J07Wc_lHYkBgKffsQ1IhOij6UMEAFAObrLQBtnmzB8k23ozT1NEV9JmL5ejCfQxK8aaH4d0SeYLHO7vZAIk-_FjbQ4MPQjOqtRomAx9MksuFNFu6K70VOnajtHb8wjysGWHznqeKjFEhQ0JcFQCBGE_KjtPALcUXnQY83NUGRmBoh8CEdVHrJ/w400-h345/Altar%20mor%20Notre%20Dame%20de%20la%20Garde.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O interior, mármores e mosaicos</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Também de estilo neobizantino, a imponente Catedral
de Marselha marca a zona ribeirinha. É formada por duas igrejas que foram
sobrepostas. A velha igreja do século IV, reconstruída nos séculos XI e XII
depois dos ataques sarracenos, foi ampliada no século XIX, por ordem de
Napoleão III. Na vasta esplanada que a rodeia, há uma estátua de Monseigneur de
Belsunce, que nos recorda o período da Grande Peste de 1720, a última grande
epidemia a assolar a Europa, pelo menos até ao século XX...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU8omzCzagXzWCqhlwA4D_LpE7RHNTk3CItnnADWc0kcFD7-XC6tXzMwjNmRE-r2n9yzReW3XW1q_fd5687Ua6pzTuPhCrS20JlzYlFNFCLf7o6tuPk2CNj_NMjJ8zSOzvh9kZwuSbe75QnUtXYJzgIkfBliZHcBZEx-ODiGjkhYE1n_AHKdmtP0F/s2902/20221202_165001.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2902" data-original-width="1910" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVU8omzCzagXzWCqhlwA4D_LpE7RHNTk3CItnnADWc0kcFD7-XC6tXzMwjNmRE-r2n9yzReW3XW1q_fd5687Ua6pzTuPhCrS20JlzYlFNFCLf7o6tuPk2CNj_NMjJ8zSOzvh9kZwuSbe75QnUtXYJzgIkfBliZHcBZEx-ODiGjkhYE1n_AHKdmtP0F/w264-h400/20221202_165001.jpg" width="264" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A catedral neobizantina de Marselha</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUQqC_CP1VN-GReoQR0xqmOnntTc4wc3Y46GCrJdodk2WRvGF8jdOwHkK-luHRvKPWQwnCofVncCbhm7fEhtjklOff_63Ak1d2oHSWDWBp1I_4_sfpWtIwr6gIUqP1ZBZAUjoAvCTP8IZPjUvNdavjU9PqJw0FYo8-eolCVi8Px12ud_D52dM2umG/s4000/20221203_113439.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZUQqC_CP1VN-GReoQR0xqmOnntTc4wc3Y46GCrJdodk2WRvGF8jdOwHkK-luHRvKPWQwnCofVncCbhm7fEhtjklOff_63Ak1d2oHSWDWBp1I_4_sfpWtIwr6gIUqP1ZBZAUjoAvCTP8IZPjUvNdavjU9PqJw0FYo8-eolCVi8Px12ud_D52dM2umG/w400-h225/20221203_113439.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A catedral vista do Fort Saint Jean</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Nessa altura terrível, os barcos eram deixados ao
abandono, ao largo da cidade, cheios de mercadorias preciosas que ninguém
queria e de doentes de peste de que todos temiam o contágio. Hoje, os barcos de
migrantes que tentam cruzar o Mediterrâneo também deixam um rasto de morte.
Marselha, uma cidade feita por migrantes, construída sobre o comércio
mediterrânico, mostra-nos que o caminho pode ser outro, porque é mais o que nos
une do que o que nos separa.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitW6KfGfk18thwEZ1OPZfFh3BoI_5rONgQsn5JpfflOJ6NmUaHiGhs5aSQQw54KD_Nn6HLPpG-i4uqcTQL1-UnGhd4ojQq0TVIRmOM5YGkL3bpNytFpHNQgYDVBg-5srh_MfPxyB3JF2hQOzezutj8qY3l3_lHpISNpSMKwunqXKC1yuAfwKqat2iT/s4000/20221202_103719.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitW6KfGfk18thwEZ1OPZfFh3BoI_5rONgQsn5JpfflOJ6NmUaHiGhs5aSQQw54KD_Nn6HLPpG-i4uqcTQL1-UnGhd4ojQq0TVIRmOM5YGkL3bpNytFpHNQgYDVBg-5srh_MfPxyB3JF2hQOzezutj8qY3l3_lHpISNpSMKwunqXKC1yuAfwKqat2iT/w225-h400/20221202_103719.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Não há como não amar Marselha!</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-73140883749528554492022-11-29T18:52:00.000+00:002022-11-29T18:52:51.279+00:00Os mercados de Natal da Alsácia<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvurhHymWzakvVWv3bD9DzGCSznp7CaPCjpKBKrqsgLbH-nFiT0B_TKvdM8DyI4D2sIohG5MglZ7wyWtlKwDD8DzwGtuuyXOyQHgsJIAtaN9tN8hRkBmd8RIx_GapDk1wUKkyF98hmU_Pv8Is63AV4qr22vHJyR_I_kO6FfAuiZ_T08Kl8DLtaW2mj/s4000/20211202_113314.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvurhHymWzakvVWv3bD9DzGCSznp7CaPCjpKBKrqsgLbH-nFiT0B_TKvdM8DyI4D2sIohG5MglZ7wyWtlKwDD8DzwGtuuyXOyQHgsJIAtaN9tN8hRkBmd8RIx_GapDk1wUKkyF98hmU_Pv8Is63AV4qr22vHJyR_I_kO6FfAuiZ_T08Kl8DLtaW2mj/w400-h225/20211202_113314.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Carrossel do mercado de Natal de Estrasburgo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Os
mercados de Natal são essencialmente uma tradição germânica, muito presente no
norte da Europa. Em épocas de frio e escuridão, apetecia trazer luz e calor. As
tradições pagãs já organizavam celebrações e festas das luzes por altura do
solstício de inverno, quando se aproximavam os dias mais frios e escuros, em
que a noite se apropriava do calendário. As velas e bolas coloridas, o vinho
quente com especiarias, as músicas cantadas em conjunto, aproximavam as pessoas
e ajudavam-nas a entrar no inverno que estava à porta.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzF9V5er5B3HolgiQAU6Yw4kA1Zh1QqN4gCwCBgV9OJznoNk-3OYn7_xFlJASHB2rPmmG4aJ9sgXQVXtRXS7sG0aF1Gc5bGWvBJVcoDesw0EYj77yhNarS-lK19_fa2A3az9rgwqSezPY4D6FUwiLzcNlXDXyPjNf6xPtkksh6V19a80k-u1fuBia/s3900/20211203_134535.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2045" data-original-width="3900" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOzF9V5er5B3HolgiQAU6Yw4kA1Zh1QqN4gCwCBgV9OJznoNk-3OYn7_xFlJASHB2rPmmG4aJ9sgXQVXtRXS7sG0aF1Gc5bGWvBJVcoDesw0EYj77yhNarS-lK19_fa2A3az9rgwqSezPY4D6FUwiLzcNlXDXyPjNf6xPtkksh6V19a80k-u1fuBia/w400-h210/20211203_134535.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Mercado de Natal em Colmar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthxyEiNn1xDKqTd0xJMEVYKzWgGBO-wg9b9z8Ta383BxgVUehEmj-NqSAAt1rQdiK32Vx3o1HvyZL7q3s1VfVublbM4ZbVCOOeNiQTk8w3GKAjTOxWnnqsm0jKrWW5AHRCmM0VaqRxz3uYSesAghLTVOyR5KOm8fb7MPS8zG0kxU6rTqZtcYFFnDS/s3398/20211202_121014.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3398" data-original-width="2232" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjthxyEiNn1xDKqTd0xJMEVYKzWgGBO-wg9b9z8Ta383BxgVUehEmj-NqSAAt1rQdiK32Vx3o1HvyZL7q3s1VfVublbM4ZbVCOOeNiQTk8w3GKAjTOxWnnqsm0jKrWW5AHRCmM0VaqRxz3uYSesAghLTVOyR5KOm8fb7MPS8zG0kxU6rTqZtcYFFnDS/w263-h400/20211202_121014.jpg" width="263" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Rua decorada em Estrasburgo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O
Cristianismo adotou alegremente estes festejos, como muitos outros,
temperando-os com anjos e presépios. Mas hoje, a sociedade laicizada afastou-se
outra vez desses símbolos e encontramos nos festejos natalícios mais pinheiros
do que presépios, mais duendes do que anjos, mais bolas coloridas do que
estrelas.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRajN6mBD3c0-3GfEUaQheT5QqZeUYyrIXz3yD93e_fMqxxSECfpkS4VvWyM4m304BkI2njd_rk-Uc6dyZjVKURn_g1_xFT6-__9g03RZJZLcag2mN8uv2mWKOOLekPqYfg2s63SYqIVe1BJoIfMHvI0uTRxw5S7cyfovGRttc7zWQBDi1vzajDzE/s2935/20211202_185313.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2935" data-original-width="2181" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTRajN6mBD3c0-3GfEUaQheT5QqZeUYyrIXz3yD93e_fMqxxSECfpkS4VvWyM4m304BkI2njd_rk-Uc6dyZjVKURn_g1_xFT6-__9g03RZJZLcag2mN8uv2mWKOOLekPqYfg2s63SYqIVe1BJoIfMHvI0uTRxw5S7cyfovGRttc7zWQBDi1vzajDzE/w298-h400/20211202_185313.jpg" width="298" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A árvore de Natal de Estrasburgo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></span></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMeiJ7k839RBDY_iUMeKaeCpATVSgw5z9Id41g7eYutqxj5I1Y9bM8VnMpZS-SQOJF4iDvD5N5-waGX4-Au2EHWIBYipPnv-hwN7ruSo0vbQ3UfaBXUjBDid7IZsaGuhGLR4tLtzhLizozVbMaSWpV4yDlYZCJ1zD7CD_bsRic1RL--zKqGFokFEt0/s4000/20211202_104617.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMeiJ7k839RBDY_iUMeKaeCpATVSgw5z9Id41g7eYutqxj5I1Y9bM8VnMpZS-SQOJF4iDvD5N5-waGX4-Au2EHWIBYipPnv-hwN7ruSo0vbQ3UfaBXUjBDid7IZsaGuhGLR4tLtzhLizozVbMaSWpV4yDlYZCJ1zD7CD_bsRic1RL--zKqGFokFEt0/w400-h225/20211202_104617.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Ursos, bolas e neve...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A
Alsácia é atualmente uma região da França mas, como já referi <a href="https://olharesviajantes.blogspot.com/2022/04/estrasburgo-capital-da-europa.html" target="_blank">noutro post</a>,
passou séculos a mudar de mãos e conjuga bem a cultura latina com a cultura
germânica. Nos mercados natalícios germânicos que já visitei, na Alemanha e na
Suécia, o espaço está circunscrito a uma praça, umas ruas adjacentes; as
barraquinhas encostam-se umas às outras, exibindo os doces e as figurinhas
tradicionais, come-se, bebe-se <em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">glühwein</span></em>, patina-se, canta-se. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6trxNp50nOWvgKAzPC8oJNUySS4Y5CPojZ9Bes0JMh8TnUmQQRkInvslxgZo-g5xjXZhhPKOEejFcD0eC8BTZrYk02QTF21G8MCxFPd8FJGoFrnvVMOEPPqhmtVk2UUhyj4i0c3MURhUf7X6LRbDgCtdjx9nQuBfDRxjHms-o9HUal8O7KofgxUB/s4000/20211202_095809.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs6trxNp50nOWvgKAzPC8oJNUySS4Y5CPojZ9Bes0JMh8TnUmQQRkInvslxgZo-g5xjXZhhPKOEejFcD0eC8BTZrYk02QTF21G8MCxFPd8FJGoFrnvVMOEPPqhmtVk2UUhyj4i0c3MURhUf7X6LRbDgCtdjx9nQuBfDRxjHms-o9HUal8O7KofgxUB/w400-h225/20211202_095809.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pinheiros decorados num passeio de Estrasburgo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Os
mercados de Natal alsacianos são deslumbrantes. Os símbolos e as decorações de
Natal extravasam das pracinhas onde as barracas continuam a vender estrelas,
bolas coloridas e vinho quente. Inundam as outras ruas, trepam pelos prédios de
habitação, saltam para os passeios, descem pelos cais, espreitam em todos os
recantos. Será o espírito do sul, excessivo e barroco, a abraçar e tomar conta
das tradições germânicas?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfWh9m9wMxjQOsioSvK3AWUEK4-LJRbDtXGLloaDaqtfzw16l6p4PQnudGBqgsQLGs-PyIyT1ZOBpC_7zVa-aGq_sJwtAdOFMavuX4e0x5dnQd7_ayTy35TDfad4sYtqBfAV20iWga45T7WBSCr54TyID-Q3hRSSGiYjW5xfp8qyj87D7_wH4LnQu/s4000/20211202_122645.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDfWh9m9wMxjQOsioSvK3AWUEK4-LJRbDtXGLloaDaqtfzw16l6p4PQnudGBqgsQLGs-PyIyT1ZOBpC_7zVa-aGq_sJwtAdOFMavuX4e0x5dnQd7_ayTy35TDfad4sYtqBfAV20iWga45T7WBSCr54TyID-Q3hRSSGiYjW5xfp8qyj87D7_wH4LnQu/w400-h225/20211202_122645.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Lojas com decorações natalícias</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFQzjAjdbDrmYvQhniX-G2FC1RVEPrz4d-SUJfm45xPGoQFheGfC9k86UHXoSUIPfZUkxJBBHQaYzfn8-A6Akjk6yoHJYcKR-HcAmnFPLFcvrRs3RW11CY8aI0SQ5UBaen1t9UCnowQO8x9djLSLEI4l3ChbKeGWpUVfNfyMCdX08LJAg_589ByMX/s4000/20211202_120911.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoFQzjAjdbDrmYvQhniX-G2FC1RVEPrz4d-SUJfm45xPGoQFheGfC9k86UHXoSUIPfZUkxJBBHQaYzfn8-A6Akjk6yoHJYcKR-HcAmnFPLFcvrRs3RW11CY8aI0SQ5UBaen1t9UCnowQO8x9djLSLEI4l3ChbKeGWpUVfNfyMCdX08LJAg_589ByMX/w400-h225/20211202_120911.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Estrasburgo
é a capital da Alsácia e do Natal alsaciano. À volta da velha catedral, o mercado
organiza-se em pequenas ruas, junto a uma enorme árvore de Natal. Mas as
decorações espalham-se por todas as lojas e restaurantes, tão exuberantes que
me fazem temer pela segurança das fachadas...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKG5sPjLiF0KQKadFWwSB7xnxGvQJMPPNiDSeuHnCnmbDgamCAdByjV0CnWGsm2EynexQUyLDXyaiJniMV4Lvn9qaxC475Fd8474sNZBZtfrxxPAqAHoksxCZVUjy3YeLhKi1jV7oTiDnt2PV0Vy54oRB3QUX72Vks1fmLrVGB3B2bBiZeNEt72NU/s3564/20211202_095558.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3564" data-original-width="1804" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSKG5sPjLiF0KQKadFWwSB7xnxGvQJMPPNiDSeuHnCnmbDgamCAdByjV0CnWGsm2EynexQUyLDXyaiJniMV4Lvn9qaxC475Fd8474sNZBZtfrxxPAqAHoksxCZVUjy3YeLhKi1jV7oTiDnt2PV0Vy54oRB3QUX72Vks1fmLrVGB3B2bBiZeNEt72NU/w203-h400/20211202_095558.jpg" width="203" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwRtcrj8a5_qjZbIUvwNlro-kjjyrJ_Pl-kRBSIU9IUUOIrY8BvjSeeutrz6uLCEpKYGreODCvTb-O2fZrRdxAhqtFLEuACw9rLeem4av9jCRsQBPyW8Ql-yAztL13eJ38hLgajRtuNooqEGTM5UIBFJwz2LA2g1AXELyDTPXCU1G5q9YlCB7a-70/s4000/20211202_104656.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEipwRtcrj8a5_qjZbIUvwNlro-kjjyrJ_Pl-kRBSIU9IUUOIrY8BvjSeeutrz6uLCEpKYGreODCvTb-O2fZrRdxAhqtFLEuACw9rLeem4av9jCRsQBPyW8Ql-yAztL13eJ38hLgajRtuNooqEGTM5UIBFJwz2LA2g1AXELyDTPXCU1G5q9YlCB7a-70/w400-h225/20211202_104656.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As decorações trepam pelas frontarias dos prédios e lojas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r5HZjU8u_qe8l1QVnwG-oA8ez1DQxr6aj-985a7lQ7V6woVeeSuCvUsFNkgFntUOIuTb9KpyxRGGXdd6nU9Pet5OL-j4rz74b-nvT1NjtccHnQix59hgwvXAlxQ9bDjkUsJc_ZoT-zK9zD6KrNvE2O7fKd4kLtN2WovBN6AlWPp_hUnLcRiD_lzj/s3140/20211202_123813.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3140" data-original-width="2196" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1r5HZjU8u_qe8l1QVnwG-oA8ez1DQxr6aj-985a7lQ7V6woVeeSuCvUsFNkgFntUOIuTb9KpyxRGGXdd6nU9Pet5OL-j4rz74b-nvT1NjtccHnQix59hgwvXAlxQ9bDjkUsJc_ZoT-zK9zD6KrNvE2O7fKd4kLtN2WovBN6AlWPp_hUnLcRiD_lzj/w280-h400/20211202_123813.jpg" width="280" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Para
sul de Estrasburgo, o Natal toma conta das aldeias. Uma das mais bonitas e
tradicionais é Riquewhir. Não há casa que não exiba as suas decorações
natalícias. Vendem-se produtos tradicionais. Vale a pena parar nos pequenos
mercados, para apreciar e comprar os enchidos, patés e doces regionais. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_TJJ3oPNxGRYbRhdNYprATbRjjP66bGoDNcOtRhWKk-hYrq4wrkqkkUzWNUY3lPS_5GqEWJUF9xSySGqZsumCVcrJKhoqYaZK7vd6BoSFyQYHo9u9NHKnSALLY757G0S-y9nmNhNsgL198GwfikZcHuXeHb36gH4ScIBX4nxNNw9fsTxQd9Z4LAS/s3806/20211203_115455.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2091" data-original-width="3806" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN_TJJ3oPNxGRYbRhdNYprATbRjjP66bGoDNcOtRhWKk-hYrq4wrkqkkUzWNUY3lPS_5GqEWJUF9xSySGqZsumCVcrJKhoqYaZK7vd6BoSFyQYHo9u9NHKnSALLY757G0S-y9nmNhNsgL198GwfikZcHuXeHb36gH4ScIBX4nxNNw9fsTxQd9Z4LAS/w400-h220/20211203_115455.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Das casas de habitação aos edifícios históricos, tudo está enfeitado</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOZ_DrgXVRT0qvyZ56ZZcN_pER5TB3yOoi0W3ZPiLfQYGX8hInEPAOaJa7YHIBlt18JIATjsbu4gtyhO_0yyHz1sqHDNuOQi0_x2Do0E-chbgQ30AylHlzeuqSEXIt2BSyeaiR6XLqg8qGx0bJseFaqfCrtJwNIcs50CJHvOLBueSv83ZsCSgeQis/s4000/20211203_120046.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjyOZ_DrgXVRT0qvyZ56ZZcN_pER5TB3yOoi0W3ZPiLfQYGX8hInEPAOaJa7YHIBlt18JIATjsbu4gtyhO_0yyHz1sqHDNuOQi0_x2Do0E-chbgQ30AylHlzeuqSEXIt2BSyeaiR6XLqg8qGx0bJseFaqfCrtJwNIcs50CJHvOLBueSv83ZsCSgeQis/w400-h225/20211203_120046.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjv0KMTm4rh8dzgwe8psqOT5fmHM0tqBBRoEuMWL_aL9VaD_zXLc1TasrC_ctPogf18zrXiFY1VCAEdg3HdX07hDOWQScrVlBUSF1jPSfNCfQ5zUUA5GU-JaMavi0voEJVJYDSVIMcfquQTiGoGVzLoHIE7IIE1R0Z9rA2qQr2TF6NyJDYHqXE0Fm/s4000/20211203_115702.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRjv0KMTm4rh8dzgwe8psqOT5fmHM0tqBBRoEuMWL_aL9VaD_zXLc1TasrC_ctPogf18zrXiFY1VCAEdg3HdX07hDOWQScrVlBUSF1jPSfNCfQ5zUUA5GU-JaMavi0voEJVJYDSVIMcfquQTiGoGVzLoHIE7IIE1R0Z9rA2qQr2TF6NyJDYHqXE0Fm/w400-h225/20211203_115702.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada de um mercado de produtos tradicionais</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Aqui, há
muitas figurinhas de histórias infantis tradicionais, que estimulam a nossa
memória e a nossa imaginação. Tudo é mimoso. E, já que as pessoas são
responsáveis pelo espaço de terra ou passeio frente às suas casas, os pinheiros
de Natal, profusamente decorados, saltam para as estradas e acompanham-nos, já
fora da própria aldeia.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2d4gBWLQ2UhVCwAQn1lUJ99X8cEYbRZxcG0sDt0c3nihazYvBlIanMSiwsuC7rfdPe-UFIgyySwmveGkIcvnZwHQKG2vK_vsahvhPXpLxbStyWyZlG7uafwiwXvZZM4BiR3s478y0l5bj1vNR_Cp_4nIqeZZxhxlyTePxHE_WNkrUrN0CSjJJ-z4/s3881/20211203_120116.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2183" data-original-width="3881" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEif2d4gBWLQ2UhVCwAQn1lUJ99X8cEYbRZxcG0sDt0c3nihazYvBlIanMSiwsuC7rfdPe-UFIgyySwmveGkIcvnZwHQKG2vK_vsahvhPXpLxbStyWyZlG7uafwiwXvZZM4BiR3s478y0l5bj1vNR_Cp_4nIqeZZxhxlyTePxHE_WNkrUrN0CSjJJ-z4/w400-h225/20211203_120116.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Enfim, um presépio...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozogtH3BTYgncoCEuNfoIEbWJPy6XF4-9_dE3dtGlcA50rOiJ61Yl2P1hMAs3VR4shG3-GCTGiRPfpCUijqDFW8hhb3V75bMkGslUc0WVRrFptumze1orrBJ0_nnf5cDhrU90IwOE06PbhLPn-kStP-0D0xQEor2TRgiRlag_5nKMwcUHM_AazCXV/s3264/20211203_120645.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgozogtH3BTYgncoCEuNfoIEbWJPy6XF4-9_dE3dtGlcA50rOiJ61Yl2P1hMAs3VR4shG3-GCTGiRPfpCUijqDFW8hhb3V75bMkGslUc0WVRrFptumze1orrBJ0_nnf5cDhrU90IwOE06PbhLPn-kStP-0D0xQEor2TRgiRlag_5nKMwcUHM_AazCXV/w400-h225/20211203_120645.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">...e outras figuras de histórias infantis</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas
a estrela do Natal alsaciano é, sem dúvida, Colmar. É sempre bonita, com
certeza, mas nesta altura veste-se a preceito. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWM9P2K05jszbAqbWYsiDFMXwXjpvDNx_6-BYaaJcc1x4A2RzJyLfgX6qiq5pz0f90LFg0DyK9jlslBz8JqMORiH0kjEO9tzzoASN3tuwbgTCQ3wAIFOLYB1AA67mijLvzqlDRgupYDBLke6pesaESuT8WoMQIWjWhlRxs70mhRtxrqN-XpGZa-FK/s1858/20211203_140134.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1448" data-original-width="1858" height="311" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEieWM9P2K05jszbAqbWYsiDFMXwXjpvDNx_6-BYaaJcc1x4A2RzJyLfgX6qiq5pz0f90LFg0DyK9jlslBz8JqMORiH0kjEO9tzzoASN3tuwbgTCQ3wAIFOLYB1AA67mijLvzqlDRgupYDBLke6pesaESuT8WoMQIWjWhlRxs70mhRtxrqN-XpGZa-FK/w400-h311/20211203_140134.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os símbolos de Colmar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As ruas e praças estão
engalanadas. As margens dos canais exibem as decorações costumeiras mas também
projeções video que trazem as imagens dos pinheiros e da neve das paragens mais
a norte. Por todo o lado, ouvimos músicas de Natal e sentimos o cheiro dos
fritos e do vinho com especiarias. Toda a cidade é um chamariz turístico
natalício.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tQpkzQKa-bCAkbgTS4fQpMC4uIR99gEhTtQ4PeS1okEo0kQsMHxjz_WSZ8a4mBrOxFOIyzSaCXrBnV6OGyvgrHi4Qg8QV8wQ-iHiTkZP5mIx3JlarUWYQxOT2niSGiaPZ4w5CI9-hrFrFjsBQSAz3V9dM08nK8Nbuxp96_6U5_R9vV-kNKviP4jW/s3168/20211203_144718.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3168" data-original-width="2233" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5tQpkzQKa-bCAkbgTS4fQpMC4uIR99gEhTtQ4PeS1okEo0kQsMHxjz_WSZ8a4mBrOxFOIyzSaCXrBnV6OGyvgrHi4Qg8QV8wQ-iHiTkZP5mIx3JlarUWYQxOT2niSGiaPZ4w5CI9-hrFrFjsBQSAz3V9dM08nK8Nbuxp96_6U5_R9vV-kNKviP4jW/w283-h400/20211203_144718.jpg" width="283" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A fachada do Museu Hansi</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5VkA1RMLtFhjujxjCdABN9dSawjYHptNfyUx7sV2g5Q3Rfsx2uNF4j_P_M8jtsL9TDkwgOAfrp0-ERJ-EqyRBe50p93-1rJsIudlPAj1-cn2Bb3TuRMSj002oA7xk2LL3gx_RyVusJXXz7j9dya4grHBfJpjO3i0XO5C8OTtaw7UyEj8mawA4MUr/s4000/20211203_171948.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiN5VkA1RMLtFhjujxjCdABN9dSawjYHptNfyUx7sV2g5Q3Rfsx2uNF4j_P_M8jtsL9TDkwgOAfrp0-ERJ-EqyRBe50p93-1rJsIudlPAj1-cn2Bb3TuRMSj002oA7xk2LL3gx_RyVusJXXz7j9dya4grHBfJpjO3i0XO5C8OTtaw7UyEj8mawA4MUr/w400-h225/20211203_171948.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Restaurante junto ao canal... não sei se é bom, mas apetece mesmo ali sentar...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tenho
vontade de voltar à Alsácia noutra altura do ano, talvez na primavera.
Sentar-me nas mesmas praças, caminhar pelas mesmas ruas, bordejar os mesmos
canais. Haverá com certeza menos luzes coloridas, mas o sol tornará ainda mais
bonitas as velhas casas de enxaimel. Em vez de um copo de <em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal;">Glühwein</span></em>,
uma taça de Riesling, bem fresco. Parece-me um bom plano.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxEd--Y-VkjkKSiDc0_HHwj3rEqQMma79mhGWhPOXcnipX3TaZFg6NwViwYyouHyEjJdgaVDSIxw22bveLbK4KEzkxnsaexfIw5Z2B-8H9rJv1k_IVCUVz5DlPTzQLENMLqyhyK0_H9Ozz5qS_yxJmmZ1IYhigTGC0-RvqoVRtUsscDRWWRkweZmU/s4000/20211203_170149.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkxEd--Y-VkjkKSiDc0_HHwj3rEqQMma79mhGWhPOXcnipX3TaZFg6NwViwYyouHyEjJdgaVDSIxw22bveLbK4KEzkxnsaexfIw5Z2B-8H9rJv1k_IVCUVz5DlPTzQLENMLqyhyK0_H9Ozz5qS_yxJmmZ1IYhigTGC0-RvqoVRtUsscDRWWRkweZmU/w400-h225/20211203_170149.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As casas de enxaimel junto ao canal</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-6203422886997953222022-11-12T19:56:00.001+00:002022-11-27T18:54:35.150+00:00Castelos no reino da Dinamarca<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVnLH9U02HXqaicD8dPqZuEXcuXiyY4XISjhW9BwarDiMa7tZgCH5wkgqZq5IZ6oD2ERsgOgqjJOt_9caw96WNhHYQJQy0AvzvcZLMOsu0vtPgaVbpYV2yRqgq86gfsccSd1zeuDEdF3irMHXpCYNBT1ZCrLUpjDXBu2a7ZPBTnq-i_KubNymEwVK/s3867/20220815_102723.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2188" data-original-width="3867" height="226" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOVnLH9U02HXqaicD8dPqZuEXcuXiyY4XISjhW9BwarDiMa7tZgCH5wkgqZq5IZ6oD2ERsgOgqjJOt_9caw96WNhHYQJQy0AvzvcZLMOsu0vtPgaVbpYV2yRqgq86gfsccSd1zeuDEdF3irMHXpCYNBT1ZCrLUpjDXBu2a7ZPBTnq-i_KubNymEwVK/w400-h226/20220815_102723.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O castelo de Frederiksborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Talvez não seja a
imagem mais imediata que nos vem à cabeça quando pensamos na Dinamarca, mas a
verdade é que aí existem belos castelos, que em nada ficam atrás dos de outras
regiões da Europa.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU4E1VdemmqZNgVFJMTiEf7ClBntkwNxoJObqB0uYN_cP4gYdGBHRHpP-tLSDOSmU_PYhq20rC2z6_FeOFjoO4zpFibtV6WsUOeDo7gGNLf_Jn4A_T9ErDiXbfqOrEZCRxHeSFEgOmuKNvpwXFhHa6glpGPK-pYJ8y5xiS-0MJY1i_Fva-vGk8B1id/s3374/20220814_155245.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3374" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhU4E1VdemmqZNgVFJMTiEf7ClBntkwNxoJObqB0uYN_cP4gYdGBHRHpP-tLSDOSmU_PYhq20rC2z6_FeOFjoO4zpFibtV6WsUOeDo7gGNLf_Jn4A_T9ErDiXbfqOrEZCRxHeSFEgOmuKNvpwXFhHa6glpGPK-pYJ8y5xiS-0MJY1i_Fva-vGk8B1id/w266-h400/20220814_155245.jpg" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Crianças brincam na maquete do Castelo de Kronborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><em></em></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Desde logo, na
própria capital, Copenhaga, como já referi <a href="https://olharesviajantes.blogspot.com/2022/10/o-verao-em-copenhaga.html" target="_blank">noutro post</a>. Mas também fora dela...
Tinhamos selecionado três: Kronborg, em Helsingor, Frederiksborg, em </span></em><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Hillerød<em><span style="font-style: normal;">, e Egeskow, na ilha de Fyn. E cada um teve a
sua história!...</span></em></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Y8XdvFcJc-m4_F4nbKvLgHuKyJyiM5qSn45UxVFmHVEwCk9FW3hYbCRZvC53CFEGqvQzmQv9-KN2vC6XeQrE5bWk0t0u6QiQ3wFPTycBqyHXANohtcr9W_tOH95gflkIK32rQSdxlbCzt1ENnRaYUD8InYOlA0mD92aUJrNWTPmrJ81kbC_NGhuq/s3758/20220814_160347.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2240" data-original-width="3758" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi2Y8XdvFcJc-m4_F4nbKvLgHuKyJyiM5qSn45UxVFmHVEwCk9FW3hYbCRZvC53CFEGqvQzmQv9-KN2vC6XeQrE5bWk0t0u6QiQ3wFPTycBqyHXANohtcr9W_tOH95gflkIK32rQSdxlbCzt1ENnRaYUD8InYOlA0mD92aUJrNWTPmrJ81kbC_NGhuq/w400-h239/20220814_160347.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada no Castelo de Kronborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">O Castelo de
Kronborg localiza-se na ponta nordeste da Zelândia, no local onde o Estreito de
</span></em><span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-family: verdana; line-height: 107%;">Øresund<em><span style="font-style: normal;"> é mais reduzido. Aí, apenas quatro quilómetros
separam a Dinamarca da Suécia, do outro lado daquele braço de mar a que chamam </span></em>Øresund<em><span style="font-style: normal;">. De cada margem avista-se claramente a margem oposta. E como duas
irmãs gémeas separadas pelo estreito, a cidade sueca de Helsingborg olha a
cidade dinamarquesa de Helsingor. Não foi por acaso que o rei Erik da Pomerânia
mandou construir o castelo de Kronborg naquele local, dominando o estreito.
Dali, podia defender-se de uma hipotética invasão sueca e, de caminho,
controlava o movimento comercial no estreito. </span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><em></em></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-NXX7P9Ozphdhl_8O-H5tdnOXF_vDspV0cgV92exdXlvxSjK0j1jtc2VpfHjt47VqxGObom802ziCr0yZ4vdj4xqsfxEoYpYQS9dReALAMnpMKn8-36eUmNeTS5VaeZ6pQ6m50Cj5YbajivZ2deOsgOdyGeS5A7LX1r0sEn2CeYo_mnQGIiBtZDFr/s3734/20220814_161027.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3734" data-original-width="2048" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-NXX7P9Ozphdhl_8O-H5tdnOXF_vDspV0cgV92exdXlvxSjK0j1jtc2VpfHjt47VqxGObom802ziCr0yZ4vdj4xqsfxEoYpYQS9dReALAMnpMKn8-36eUmNeTS5VaeZ6pQ6m50Cj5YbajivZ2deOsgOdyGeS5A7LX1r0sEn2CeYo_mnQGIiBtZDFr/w220-h400/20220814_161027.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Fatos de cerimónia do rei Erik e da rainha Filipa</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><em><span style="font-style: normal;">No castelo de Kronborg, visitamos
o escritório real. Das janelas avista-se todo o estreito e eu imagino o rei, de
mãos atrás das costas, olhando o mar e fazendo as contas aos direitos que iria
cobrar a todos os barcos que ali passavam, no seu percurso entre o Mar do Norte
e o Mar Báltico. </span></em></span><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><em></em></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mFw9pglHfXyfKG-IxcKsxR5JDPZVw_xJFcOTsXXdvBwDJEHR8h7w3zLxlLqmOwmfTGI1IKUtm8a8Dp02LdipvjEbmmdJGc-rvqrgc3yntxnQYDAXcGNTSyydjaz7fvbx4o1iuFiUBKBChtrHpzBCc9fAP55zKU3ltA3bybUu6FylUYT_4hFFWeeQ/s2742/20220814_123517.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1269" data-original-width="2742" height="185" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8mFw9pglHfXyfKG-IxcKsxR5JDPZVw_xJFcOTsXXdvBwDJEHR8h7w3zLxlLqmOwmfTGI1IKUtm8a8Dp02LdipvjEbmmdJGc-rvqrgc3yntxnQYDAXcGNTSyydjaz7fvbx4o1iuFiUBKBChtrHpzBCc9fAP55zKU3ltA3bybUu6FylUYT_4hFFWeeQ/w400-h185/20220814_123517.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Castelo à beira do estreito</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ZntrNIfwu-BQAtL4CgGdhi9jSYi7sjcnAtfqJq-KASpOH5osvakweWu60nxM8L0jibcP-hejUP1w2wl2Y0JOH0lW3l-VvWuEWzim0C1r6st5lV_pXOuFRE3JIROnG77QPR7uUno-x0COtzwStYIdTIaks6t1fuxLA6dH4oSrjVCs8T3_fy46uwSY/s4000/20220814_122603.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6ZntrNIfwu-BQAtL4CgGdhi9jSYi7sjcnAtfqJq-KASpOH5osvakweWu60nxM8L0jibcP-hejUP1w2wl2Y0JOH0lW3l-VvWuEWzim0C1r6st5lV_pXOuFRE3JIROnG77QPR7uUno-x0COtzwStYIdTIaks6t1fuxLA6dH4oSrjVCs8T3_fy46uwSY/w400-h225/20220814_122603.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O <i>ferry boat</i> liga as duas cidades </span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Hoje em dia, um </span></em><em><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">ferryboat</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"> liga as duas cidades a cada meia hora. E é assim, na proa do </span></em><em><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">ferry</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">, que nos aproximamos de Helsingor e do seu castelo. É um belo castelo,
quadrangular, com torres elegantes nos cantos. Rodeado por um fosso, podem-se
visitar várias salas como a grande sala de banquetes e receções, ainda hoje
esporadicamente utilizada pela rainha para receber convidados especiais. O
pátio central é muito bonito e a pequena igreja com decorações de madeira
policromada merece também uma visita.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0PjrE4TtskM5VDCZTt81RO1_6SETSxPDw0rW4nhYcKIcEasJaNWtxqPK9LMtJEcGcXoimoiDyxkzGn_ulPytPpuY0YpRDfNBBXuNImzYBDUwzGbLozfcZrv91XwVb17ym0AvjHkfbsnKunEZ4UPv3dU63YKZnHxstAjkIDYCLqGN1Nrm3UwL3fcw/s3359/20220814_160424.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3359" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiH0PjrE4TtskM5VDCZTt81RO1_6SETSxPDw0rW4nhYcKIcEasJaNWtxqPK9LMtJEcGcXoimoiDyxkzGn_ulPytPpuY0YpRDfNBBXuNImzYBDUwzGbLozfcZrv91XwVb17ym0AvjHkfbsnKunEZ4UPv3dU63YKZnHxstAjkIDYCLqGN1Nrm3UwL3fcw/w268-h400/20220814_160424.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A elegante torre do pátio interior</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8irbEfFrF5Rk3pJC67zEZ0sVeGl5IPqwxXIO6AZnfPmEHMfv88yudllsvvM-dgLd_Cks40bW67FcNZ-RKMIyDO0iguZ5wci-gnmB_VZuZyk8a7StGMyUIp6C4ip0cKEWwZ2iWd4rNVrbLdH1u2qdlPtUrboOGxSTaHNcK0IlWcIemWHFmQHAglZd/s4000/20220814_165922.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd8irbEfFrF5Rk3pJC67zEZ0sVeGl5IPqwxXIO6AZnfPmEHMfv88yudllsvvM-dgLd_Cks40bW67FcNZ-RKMIyDO0iguZ5wci-gnmB_VZuZyk8a7StGMyUIp6C4ip0cKEWwZ2iWd4rNVrbLdH1u2qdlPtUrboOGxSTaHNcK0IlWcIemWHFmQHAglZd/w400-h225/20220814_165922.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A decoração em madeira policromada dos bancos da capela real</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Foi Shakespeare
quem fez a notoriedade do castelo de Helsingor. Nunca aqui esteve, que se
saiba, mas ao situar neste local a ação de Hamlet deu-lhe uma fama imorredoira.
O poeta inglês chamou-lhe Elsinore, mas é este o castelo onde o jovem príncipe
discorre sobre as motivações humanas e fala com o fantasma do seu pai
assassinado. E esta poderosa referência está por todo o lado. O ferryboat
chama-se Hamlet. Há hotéis e restaurantes com o seu nome. E todos os anos se
exibe esta peça teatral no pátio do castelo. Acho fascinante a forma como, por
vezes, a literatura toma posse dos lugares e ultrapassa a própria história!</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSPLOamQM6ozpBcSVl-2ZVo-16FAKP7sED3W448ez7IxPh_fVt9rc5c6EWkpGW08lSMo24BF6f6v0pXnVeLfTWNKoDBYfAsdra7gYt_X4jujp0apGmxyd8i6GrVhjJPufFiL9goS_p0kKv2FM87Be77vEkP7VJiYjip8kEQBgpPOmynahOA8enyxFt/s3383/20220814_123142.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3383" data-original-width="2211" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSPLOamQM6ozpBcSVl-2ZVo-16FAKP7sED3W448ez7IxPh_fVt9rc5c6EWkpGW08lSMo24BF6f6v0pXnVeLfTWNKoDBYfAsdra7gYt_X4jujp0apGmxyd8i6GrVhjJPufFiL9goS_p0kKv2FM87Be77vEkP7VJiYjip8kEQBgpPOmynahOA8enyxFt/w261-h400/20220814_123142.jpg" width="261" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O nosso <i>ferryboat </i>chama-se <i>Hamlet</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em></em></div><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><em><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Nas masmorras do
castelo, no entanto, o espírito dinamarquês vela, na figura de um velho chefe viking!
De braços cruzados sobre a espada e o escudo, o </span></em><em><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 107%;">Holder
Danske</span></em><em><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"> continua atento. E dizem que, se a
Dinamarca estiver em perigo, o velho guerreiro se erguerá e voltará a lutar.</span></em><em><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal"><em></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx62Wbl1P1brJrpKXrf667NCUxiAdelKWLJHmsXIRsTiO78bR8Ch_jEPlv8DSapxtzN6Qpc09_stSMQVH8i8XL1N0-lSicAIyJtL2HLGvPBym_L64BZj5clYt1LQLUa2dY29nguEdrVUxMzoijLuCe92bvO6bGXP3_cH-Ajji_polVqMg1mMIQ4MBi/s4000/20220814_164251.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx62Wbl1P1brJrpKXrf667NCUxiAdelKWLJHmsXIRsTiO78bR8Ch_jEPlv8DSapxtzN6Qpc09_stSMQVH8i8XL1N0-lSicAIyJtL2HLGvPBym_L64BZj5clYt1LQLUa2dY29nguEdrVUxMzoijLuCe92bvO6bGXP3_cH-Ajji_polVqMg1mMIQ4MBi/w225-h400/20220814_164251.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><em style="color: #444444; text-align: left;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 17.12px;">O </span></em><em style="color: #444444; text-align: left;"><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; line-height: 17.12px;">Holder Danske</span></em></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em></em></div><em><span style="background-attachment: initial; background-clip: initial; background-image: initial; background-origin: initial; background-position: initial; background-repeat: initial; background-size: initial; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em><p></p><em><span style="font-style: normal;"></span></em></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Uns quarenta
quilómetros para sul, em </span></em><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Hillerød<em><span style="font-style: normal;">, ergue-se outro
castelo lindíssimo e especial: Frederiksborg. É ainda hoje o maior castelo da
Escandinávia. Foi construído sobre três ilhotas pelo rei Cristiano IV, no
século XVII, para realçar o seu poder entre os soberanos da Europa da época. Em
1859, sofreu um incêndio devastador, que levou a família real a instalar-se
definitivamente em Copenhaga.</span></em></span><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><em></em></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSpb4yh1odTY-BCMOBnrIZslQc8ZxRN64HUsLGfAJer1PLfZ4XFzKnu1vxS-KilseFw2LpykyaEz0nQzxY62LzIWEbxkKjpjdXu5lg70FRp93cwqS9qsaLHbaUJi-rWJAgqQu2FIZ7ot5yIzY_Quzpp1cnI-CdNao6DVB6Z7Rn6F0jwSQT42ewpUiX/s3771/20220815_102451.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2176" data-original-width="3771" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSpb4yh1odTY-BCMOBnrIZslQc8ZxRN64HUsLGfAJer1PLfZ4XFzKnu1vxS-KilseFw2LpykyaEz0nQzxY62LzIWEbxkKjpjdXu5lg70FRp93cwqS9qsaLHbaUJi-rWJAgqQu2FIZ7ot5yIzY_Quzpp1cnI-CdNao6DVB6Z7Rn6F0jwSQT42ewpUiX/w400-h231/20220815_102451.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O belo Castelo de Frederiksborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzwKjt_ESF9VfAMgKz_RvDxVKxe1_PWFY0h950gpWCNrKutPKEr_5Aptkl8-0ZrVzYkGAtA-uo58x_3lZVqLwoxkpjoDG3VkSd-SnN4YEK3MSov73_x4QEQCui8412sj4PyR-IcCvEoms6wbRQwyvJkoQ2KSioU54yaHu0G66dNO_RAIkmwKUUk5_/s3527/20220815_102526.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3527" data-original-width="2183" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVzwKjt_ESF9VfAMgKz_RvDxVKxe1_PWFY0h950gpWCNrKutPKEr_5Aptkl8-0ZrVzYkGAtA-uo58x_3lZVqLwoxkpjoDG3VkSd-SnN4YEK3MSov73_x4QEQCui8412sj4PyR-IcCvEoms6wbRQwyvJkoQ2KSioU54yaHu0G66dNO_RAIkmwKUUk5_/w248-h400/20220815_102526.jpg" width="248" /></a></div><br /><span style="font-style: normal;"><br /></span></em></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">É aí que a
história deste castelo se torna verdadeiramente original. Em 1878, foi
adquirido pelo mestre cervejeiro J. C. Jacobsen, fundador da Carlsberg, e
totalmente reconstruído, restaurado e transformado no Museu de História
Nacional da Dinamarca. A Fundação Carlsberg gere o Museu e garante o seu
funcionamento.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEVs5Yk8NaDLlbp_fPFsdxKqWz_tknJTCG2iDCw2oh1OAzZz_Q3q2ZmddJg4vlgJwxWWVPEfd0qg2SY_pedSZKqZiizRDoAZ2AwWYE6-dAmX9QxjoFUCozBJIeqLz0VI1ckZtxjUFr3u7a3jzdIjoHseTmPVH-isCcQ0i_t9XhIPLfDIWgJ39f_6Q/s3983/20220815_102017.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2059" data-original-width="3983" height="206" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFEVs5Yk8NaDLlbp_fPFsdxKqWz_tknJTCG2iDCw2oh1OAzZz_Q3q2ZmddJg4vlgJwxWWVPEfd0qg2SY_pedSZKqZiizRDoAZ2AwWYE6-dAmX9QxjoFUCozBJIeqLz0VI1ckZtxjUFr3u7a3jzdIjoHseTmPVH-isCcQ0i_t9XhIPLfDIWgJ39f_6Q/w400-h206/20220815_102017.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os jardins que rodeiam o castelo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Elo0wJnc1hnJorL9bIrue2mxRR7Qf61jB_p3MEuvsNhfraVKuiY9qxK4wE4mPyWKa-EubrdyjqgMNtj1fOIypUbZ5__Uk3QJNClMc_CtpLexFfjLnArWB_nxY_XlP_IvDMr-pC6yWIcDBMRAHwuo0VJDLjn1pZTIQVVfHI4rX0eaHWhI0HmWfF1r/s3984/20220815_103101.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2196" data-original-width="3984" height="220" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_Elo0wJnc1hnJorL9bIrue2mxRR7Qf61jB_p3MEuvsNhfraVKuiY9qxK4wE4mPyWKa-EubrdyjqgMNtj1fOIypUbZ5__Uk3QJNClMc_CtpLexFfjLnArWB_nxY_XlP_IvDMr-pC6yWIcDBMRAHwuo0VJDLjn1pZTIQVVfHI4rX0eaHWhI0HmWfF1r/w400-h220/20220815_103101.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O pátio interior de Frederiksborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Algumas salas são
magníficas, como a Sala de Audiências ou a Grande Sala que recria o ambiente do
palácio no tempo de Cristiano IV. Mas a pérola do palácio é a Capela Real. É um
dos poucos espaços do palácio que escapou ao fogo e ergue-se, no seu esplendor
barroco, atraindo o nosso olhar para mil pormenores decorativos. A visita a
esta Capela Real justifica a visita ao
Palácio, se não houvesse outras razões.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDHUx3_wjCfzysNoZL6nMRhQA5K66etLE5wFeYAmwB1oV42otsUnGueDx8PtqzUJo6rxjLoYqcBb1Xx6akrMYfLDLAetf7CBE2KVw0cH2CK6LXT-rmCGZ-4KEVPp0Iz_s2pPDa2Oxe5QcqPR2gEbuoGh6r2x-VhCDRQE2PgQUCK5ccgGQOv9G0LrN/s3657/20220815_105101.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3657" data-original-width="2199" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYDHUx3_wjCfzysNoZL6nMRhQA5K66etLE5wFeYAmwB1oV42otsUnGueDx8PtqzUJo6rxjLoYqcBb1Xx6akrMYfLDLAetf7CBE2KVw0cH2CK6LXT-rmCGZ-4KEVPp0Iz_s2pPDa2Oxe5QcqPR2gEbuoGh6r2x-VhCDRQE2PgQUCK5ccgGQOv9G0LrN/w240-h400/20220815_105101.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Capela Real</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MaTB5LriS5TKy4Up2vJeBZKu6vURcvaA8qtN00aPeP6ucdXLZD8otYz4Iuk73Sii11HkEwNHGIdxFcAsFRmVz5Ik7NXiVBtYmFq6evYmNjRS3PV8MpF1oQdi9syrARYziGMdAftgXXdeZsCAdx7ShPFAEfauWDusPFgTDVCtc--wzWCNivh-Qyki/s3857/20220815_105556.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3857" data-original-width="2234" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1MaTB5LriS5TKy4Up2vJeBZKu6vURcvaA8qtN00aPeP6ucdXLZD8otYz4Iuk73Sii11HkEwNHGIdxFcAsFRmVz5Ik7NXiVBtYmFq6evYmNjRS3PV8MpF1oQdi9syrARYziGMdAftgXXdeZsCAdx7ShPFAEfauWDusPFgTDVCtc--wzWCNivh-Qyki/w231-h400/20220815_105556.jpg" width="231" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Pormenor do orgão da Capela Real</span></td></tr></tbody></table></em></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Mas essas outras
razões existem. O Palácio possui a mais importante coleção de retratos e
pinturas históricas da Dinamarca. Recria também o vestuário e outros aspetos da
vida de todos os soberanos do país, desde o rei Haroldo Dente Azul. E os pormenores decorativos, numa parede, no teto, atraem a nossa atenção a cada passo. </span></em></span><em style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Saímos de
Frederiksborg com o olhar pleno e inebriado, cumprindo o objetivo de um palácio
barroco de nos preencher os sentidos!...</span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFotDsiSlNm39brCw6-iYu734MaCojSH2kmO-EXmiLRkwtWXwK_ApMOHr6QYGvJfKX-qntxGILkxfhkUVM6PiKfjqacAAPLNiu3In4tfHpg1dNpCWKtbWyCX4yVmymUe9BOsiIv8dYBAkXySAvc6s5_1o7ow4nfgyTip_YcEHbg0eUdplOAkhjzDt/s4000/20220815_104215.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiWFotDsiSlNm39brCw6-iYu734MaCojSH2kmO-EXmiLRkwtWXwK_ApMOHr6QYGvJfKX-qntxGILkxfhkUVM6PiKfjqacAAPLNiu3In4tfHpg1dNpCWKtbWyCX4yVmymUe9BOsiIv8dYBAkXySAvc6s5_1o7ow4nfgyTip_YcEHbg0eUdplOAkhjzDt/w400-h225/20220815_104215.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pormenores decorativos dos tetos das salas do castelo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></em></div><em style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi69SsUaMmAGZtN7UA6S6FP72x98vPd0XUHonj5vpcR71dGG2xOMpmdD4qILB5rPFPjYXts7kdgAxHopg5jL4ebrULbhKcCdJ_WQuyUQCAHK89FHWIwxtloKZAWxxZ-qwpCFFakzs4dqV_Uu0Vg3XRONyWF-JxxrvssOSvBNVK0W2z2G9NC6ezDH0jW/s3706/20220815_115228.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3706" data-original-width="2233" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi69SsUaMmAGZtN7UA6S6FP72x98vPd0XUHonj5vpcR71dGG2xOMpmdD4qILB5rPFPjYXts7kdgAxHopg5jL4ebrULbhKcCdJ_WQuyUQCAHK89FHWIwxtloKZAWxxZ-qwpCFFakzs4dqV_Uu0Vg3XRONyWF-JxxrvssOSvBNVK0W2z2G9NC6ezDH0jW/w241-h400/20220815_115228.jpg" width="241" /></a></div><br /><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4sLtSDk1GdGgZoRDQqIzN_mhaNhmW94yuQRks-Yg1okr8iB8mOjdNwvKsSxblbT41-zOimDpiBHywP7FLNgIOh6Alrm2_cxcKX30g8ugKHx1cDIysQkmvznVTGuLDQxF4F_kmh58YvXQxWji8BOk0-XG6JHNLtsuI_OW-u7WyvNMOsQZL8demjMu/s4000/20220815_111712.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgr4sLtSDk1GdGgZoRDQqIzN_mhaNhmW94yuQRks-Yg1okr8iB8mOjdNwvKsSxblbT41-zOimDpiBHywP7FLNgIOh6Alrm2_cxcKX30g8ugKHx1cDIysQkmvznVTGuLDQxF4F_kmh58YvXQxWji8BOk0-XG6JHNLtsuI_OW-u7WyvNMOsQZL8demjMu/w400-h225/20220815_111712.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">O terceiro castelo
que estava nos nossos planos era o Castelo de Egeskow, uns trinta quilómetros a
sul de Odense, na Ilha de Fyn. Construído no meio de um lago que se transformou
no fosso do castelo, é um dos palácios renascentistas mais bem preservados no
norte da Europa. Merecia uma visita! Mas o nosso “TomTom”, o sistema de
orientação onde tinhamos definido as nossas rotas, não foi da mesma opinião!
Por razões que não conseguimos perceber, desorientou-se completamente e
levou-nos a rodar em círculos, por pequenos caminhos rurais, durante horas!
Quando finalmente chegámos ao parque de estacionamento do castelo, corremos
para a entrada mesmo a tempo de ver os grandes portões de acesso cerrarem-se à
nossa frente! </span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5at6Fb3k6OaJgjmxkdnu3pzgZbekdo_tN0FA1h5yYaZYTH2LpDrJ9soQgR8cYq5NTBopziyiD3V_ZIPDLWsgU5txsh9NVwud9U_ICyPW10q5sM5OpVt5txsC0hWeMWKS8HcrAM7NClTSNv108iCCr1E-2av3RCR7_kofF4FTCuAeFC_jBX01VSkmj/s3923/20220815_194137.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2207" data-original-width="3923" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5at6Fb3k6OaJgjmxkdnu3pzgZbekdo_tN0FA1h5yYaZYTH2LpDrJ9soQgR8cYq5NTBopziyiD3V_ZIPDLWsgU5txsh9NVwud9U_ICyPW10q5sM5OpVt5txsC0hWeMWKS8HcrAM7NClTSNv108iCCr1E-2av3RCR7_kofF4FTCuAeFC_jBX01VSkmj/w400-h225/20220815_194137.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">No centro histórico de Odense, há casinhas que parecem saídas de contos de encantar...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Engolimos em seco
e tentamos esquecer a frustração. Odense é a terra natal de Hans Christian Andersen
e talvez a sua magia nos consiga confortar!</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ret51RZESyUyuMAyc7e_EXBHaDKFgFjkKbH6Ldjaj1NWUfdWV8hdphQbOYQWh_Fk18YvwMWHc0VXNHdI4TMLwQ6VRyjRYLy5iubNBl4TGh0EevLi5j-LBUC_Uf5k147nQltid6kRDuuVdHhD65vO0kDvjL0e3BP9KiZDCxI__b3pjarSdbNzdAlq/s4000/20220815_193810.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9ret51RZESyUyuMAyc7e_EXBHaDKFgFjkKbH6Ldjaj1NWUfdWV8hdphQbOYQWh_Fk18YvwMWHc0VXNHdI4TMLwQ6VRyjRYLy5iubNBl4TGh0EevLi5j-LBUC_Uf5k147nQltid6kRDuuVdHhD65vO0kDvjL0e3BP9KiZDCxI__b3pjarSdbNzdAlq/w400-h225/20220815_193810.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A casa onde nasceu Hans Christian Andersen</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><em></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em></span><p></p><em><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"></span></span></em><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">A propósito:
encontrámos em Helsingor o par da Pequena Sereia. Chama-se Han, que significa </span></em><em><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">ele </span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">em dinamarquês, e contempla o mar na mesma posição da sereiazinha, a
partir de uma doca no velho porto de Helsingor. Foi aí colocado em 2012, no
centenário da sua congénere de Copenhaga.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfn8F_jFrfzLKY-dYdgEB3L_tulINorhTx_tLbDL6MdN8Yb6c65hgNcsbte9S9qHu-W5nDwKeg-xilhcdzwJfZUYgHABv05DQGTLZaoRJmBBs5cK0fo9GDzTrTDD9_KDLGCV-FYSlcYpy7W41vaBHTghNA6JV6SCt4YPQPByniD8U0IUoWYGPCYfmY/s4000/20220814_175802.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfn8F_jFrfzLKY-dYdgEB3L_tulINorhTx_tLbDL6MdN8Yb6c65hgNcsbte9S9qHu-W5nDwKeg-xilhcdzwJfZUYgHABv05DQGTLZaoRJmBBs5cK0fo9GDzTrTDD9_KDLGCV-FYSlcYpy7W41vaBHTghNA6JV6SCt4YPQPByniD8U0IUoWYGPCYfmY/w225-h400/20220814_175802.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Han</span></i></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas Han não é
feito de bronze, é feito de uma liga de metais polidos. Reflete o mar enquanto
o contempla. E também nos reflete a nós, que assim nos fundimos com a sua
meditação contemplativa. </span></span></em><em><span face=""Calibri",sans-serif" style="background: white; font-size: 12pt; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-20208925146582860432022-10-22T19:19:00.002+01:002022-10-24T15:34:31.619+01:00Roskilde – A herança Viking<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUX5RGaMPYpncvn2zmZujE42UbJsDm2IyFUil30ADDLhQdEDt_UPVRNHoWP-HOati5M008CrIz9PrRf6Ho01Wgv39B62wTZa3_zduLlRgLLxUP8mWVymXFbFkEX_fU-enFvtimLsdjSoYPEjxSGtio8LL6j-Mxm0F0q3VtaoIzrskfwnnC1Pli3uz/s4000/20220811_165354.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhqUX5RGaMPYpncvn2zmZujE42UbJsDm2IyFUil30ADDLhQdEDt_UPVRNHoWP-HOati5M008CrIz9PrRf6Ho01Wgv39B62wTZa3_zduLlRgLLxUP8mWVymXFbFkEX_fU-enFvtimLsdjSoYPEjxSGtio8LL6j-Mxm0F0q3VtaoIzrskfwnnC1Pli3uz/w400-h225/20220811_165354.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um barco viking em Roskilde</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A pequena cidade de Roskilde, aninhada no fundo do fiorde com
o mesmo nome, foi a primeira capital da Dinamarca. Era o tempo dos reinos
vikings, há mais de mil anos, e, se há lugar onde essa herança viking esteja presente
e seja celebrada, é em Roskilde.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiitCHXlBTGzZEnvZWc2d8ZaffSk5xvjLW51fH3SYM-ZA94Mn6VqmbcR8doQc2LC2czjQuReTB7E1z0eOSfN3st49htwod7KfoFxSStX9OP-u2z102pvJwF7bwUZfJebZRS5vlc24hKOVo0fOwFEEdkOHWl_gV9fp26FIRXrStjTfjOavAU-I8M0Vlu/s4000/20220812_102457.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiitCHXlBTGzZEnvZWc2d8ZaffSk5xvjLW51fH3SYM-ZA94Mn6VqmbcR8doQc2LC2czjQuReTB7E1z0eOSfN3st49htwod7KfoFxSStX9OP-u2z102pvJwF7bwUZfJebZRS5vlc24hKOVo0fOwFEEdkOHWl_gV9fp26FIRXrStjTfjOavAU-I8M0Vlu/w225-h400/20220812_102457.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Na praça principal, junto à catedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Foi nesse local que se instalou o rei Haroldo Dente Azul, ou
Haroldo I, celebrado como o unificador da Dinamarca e da Suécia. Sim, não é por
acaso que a tecnologia <i>Bluetooth </i>tem esse nome! <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOvJz5oXrlJ_y18i2R6nL2G4Xx16n6wfjJ1RjqpLT7RhnrYSXgyf92EctzeJFuLXBP5cVblzGEjN50eIv3EttICJ8TC0eUb0ql1BNsRT5u8mZFElESpbnIKm0ge19ivm5M3quZms4kl99fyFZm-IcGqJr9eThJ7i5_F-MOGBKXKkJssgADXWCrqbj/s4000/20220811_190638.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiyOvJz5oXrlJ_y18i2R6nL2G4Xx16n6wfjJ1RjqpLT7RhnrYSXgyf92EctzeJFuLXBP5cVblzGEjN50eIv3EttICJ8TC0eUb0ql1BNsRT5u8mZFElESpbnIKm0ge19ivm5M3quZms4kl99fyFZm-IcGqJr9eThJ7i5_F-MOGBKXKkJssgADXWCrqbj/w400-h225/20220811_190638.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O porto velho, no fundo do fiorde de Roskilde</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Chegámos a Roskilde a meio da tarde e dirigimo-nos logo para
o Museu Viking, com receio de que fechasse as portas e já não conseguissemos
entrar. É um museu único, construído à volta de um conjunto de cinco barcos do
século X que foram descobertos à entrada do fiorde e recuperados. A história é
interessante: no século X, Roskilde foi ameaçada por barcos noruegueses, que se
dirigiam para a cidade. Os cinco barcos foram propositadamente afundados à
entrada do fiorde para impedir o ataque dos noruegueses. Parece que o
estratagema funcionou, mas os barcos lá ficaram até ao século XX.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ayYhJ7Iue5JKFiK0DirihdNU_fzk4woeF1e4ON9PUiVvCw5v3I6QoQIf0DK5iAcEAcpQ-m7UidB0Fj14UjqM9uwrMOf_MKlgcGsDat2m9BSPBlWriz3pERUm-Uu4EixdCCom397srkD1pVvgSvoBp5yZCMOqrKBvA4QpVKeeDF8GtTFPbQHJHxxq/s4000/20220811_161525.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh2ayYhJ7Iue5JKFiK0DirihdNU_fzk4woeF1e4ON9PUiVvCw5v3I6QoQIf0DK5iAcEAcpQ-m7UidB0Fj14UjqM9uwrMOf_MKlgcGsDat2m9BSPBlWriz3pERUm-Uu4EixdCCom397srkD1pVvgSvoBp5yZCMOqrKBvA4QpVKeeDF8GtTFPbQHJHxxq/w400-h225/20220811_161525.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Barcos vikings recuperados do fiorde</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Hoje, esses longos barcos vikingues servem de pretexto ao
Museu. Além dos barcos, com o seu típico perfil alongado e alta proa, o museu
inclui exposições sobre vários aspetos da civilização viking, desde a sua
alimentação e vestuário até à sua conversão ao cristianismo e gradual
normalização das relações com os seus vizinhos cristãos. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jT3094Sg44wNtzZMwkfrjNP_0nTjAq8rPCjTl0IhFMjwJaqEI5WsEusGT9SbtGArrvzN9q3egu0slV7FI8gAu6EjUb31r-BXIz2yVzMLaA09Mzmmw2n5U-bf-r-AUyVKTV8eauIDDjtopC21DVDzkY_DakJupsq_akJWIArqf5NgokslO_uaR8jN/s4000/20220811_160940.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8jT3094Sg44wNtzZMwkfrjNP_0nTjAq8rPCjTl0IhFMjwJaqEI5WsEusGT9SbtGArrvzN9q3egu0slV7FI8gAu6EjUb31r-BXIz2yVzMLaA09Mzmmw2n5U-bf-r-AUyVKTV8eauIDDjtopC21DVDzkY_DakJupsq_akJWIArqf5NgokslO_uaR8jN/w225-h400/20220811_160940.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um dos barcos reconstituídos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxgeL5C82UgHxHD4vjac0hMOTJO64THoxdCrB-tTCLRY2mBcjs7k-Q0S79UsHs3Ze3GU4W-MsWcwjAIlrWaFXWuobRtay56wtZUmxh8XdWAI0lwU-2Kx5dHbikIdtebvZHNtIO0rej0yp4rAEWXiwKB1DqXwawKvYgqgDzwRxeL07de0pvwOs04Je/s4000/20220811_163257.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGxgeL5C82UgHxHD4vjac0hMOTJO64THoxdCrB-tTCLRY2mBcjs7k-Q0S79UsHs3Ze3GU4W-MsWcwjAIlrWaFXWuobRtay56wtZUmxh8XdWAI0lwU-2Kx5dHbikIdtebvZHNtIO0rej0yp4rAEWXiwKB1DqXwawKvYgqgDzwRxeL07de0pvwOs04Je/w400-h225/20220811_163257.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O museu desvenda um pouco do mundo viking</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A animação continua fora do museu. Há um espaço para jogos e
atividades da época viking, dirigido aos mais pequenos. Podemos aprender sobre
as técnicas de construção e até navegar a sério num barco viking. O anúncio
afirma que se destina a todos os que têm nem que seja apenas uma gota de sangue
viking nas veias! Eu acho que não tenho, mas também me encantou!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifYLVqG3aZadKnoSMBUyees4_isiO2O8akNVl1z5boSMaR1Mu40DjlzL5ZMtQ4QDD7YO-m2EMesEUa8WgdrXby6mfEt8PgSosGpaSjBwxM4sR1O_geYGJeaM1f_qb3n9eBkU35Btz0AKobe9IJc_WY4WAUPPEo0gPvOk6ZgFvf7gBQmtoZybBQZFoX/s4000/20220811_170231.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifYLVqG3aZadKnoSMBUyees4_isiO2O8akNVl1z5boSMaR1Mu40DjlzL5ZMtQ4QDD7YO-m2EMesEUa8WgdrXby6mfEt8PgSosGpaSjBwxM4sR1O_geYGJeaM1f_qb3n9eBkU35Btz0AKobe9IJc_WY4WAUPPEo0gPvOk6ZgFvf7gBQmtoZybBQZFoX/w400-h225/20220811_170231.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A zona dos jogos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Nem só de História vive o Homem e Roskilde tem também
propostas mais prosaicas e atuais. Se estiver bom tempo, os motociclistas da
região reunem-se junto ao porto velho todas as quintas-feira. Também lá fomos,
pois claro!... E descobrimos aí um restaurante com uma bela esplanada, onde
experimentámos o peixe da região. E comemos como uns verdadeiros vikings...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCCV-SGGaJUZJQ5UolqMi5ryihUHfNS5l1cx0yvurtVMofKzvmsmJ2J3Yz9BV5mUoitpzb7XB1qhBbwugGqXpDbvdHIfhBGkYLWAzEnoakl0hQvxcRw3v66lUfpouUe4t3SNLT4axRHgcK3ktpRKUH2K5lokoMIqXcr4J-AoEyw1Xm01m_cdEJMyo/s4000/20220811_184902.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgoCCV-SGGaJUZJQ5UolqMi5ryihUHfNS5l1cx0yvurtVMofKzvmsmJ2J3Yz9BV5mUoitpzb7XB1qhBbwugGqXpDbvdHIfhBGkYLWAzEnoakl0hQvxcRw3v66lUfpouUe4t3SNLT4axRHgcK3ktpRKUH2K5lokoMIqXcr4J-AoEyw1Xm01m_cdEJMyo/w400-h225/20220811_184902.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A concentração de motas de Roskilde</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Foi também Haroldo o primeiro rei dinamarquês a converter-se
ao cristianismo e a construir uma igreja, depois substituída pela imponente
catedral, panteão da monarquia dinamarquesa até aos dias de hoje. As crónicas
da época afirmam que Haroldo foi sepultado nessa igreja, construída em madeira.
Mas nada sobrou dessa igreja original, substituída por uma igreja em pedra no
século XI e depois, já no século XII, pela bela catedral que hoje vemos,
influenciada pelo gótico francês mas construída em tijolo. Dizem que o rei
Haroldo ainda por lá está, dentro de uma das colunas da nave central. Será?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HzGdIJV9LCOeHlwMIrHkGSyxufHbnU9SGCcTw-dD-DQk3Jlfatv1NNyCroftuynv_3ZIeXiiYATczIReaG78BbguhKD_tbCjNqHujwznKU_g9O_CRIRAE-MXgeYZ9S8H26NIaAPdVGFB0mhtohXAPx2M7-eYL4l27csdM_0xxFmglbExj195pIbe/s3345/20220812_104229.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3345" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi0HzGdIJV9LCOeHlwMIrHkGSyxufHbnU9SGCcTw-dD-DQk3Jlfatv1NNyCroftuynv_3ZIeXiiYATczIReaG78BbguhKD_tbCjNqHujwznKU_g9O_CRIRAE-MXgeYZ9S8H26NIaAPdVGFB0mhtohXAPx2M7-eYL4l27csdM_0xxFmglbExj195pIbe/w269-h400/20220812_104229.jpg" width="269" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As elegantes torres da catedral de Roskilde</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Quanto ao rei Haroldo não podemos garantir mas, entre a nave
principal e as capelas laterais, encontramos os sarcófagos e monumentos
sepulcrais de vinte e dois reis e rainhas da Dinamarca, numa linha quase
ininterrupta desde o século X até ao século XX. São acompanhados por inúmeros
outros sarcófagos, de familiares, membros da nobreza, altos funcionários.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wPexHXjgO_7gHths1zDrVYlclSAy5gTyERAvuml8lENNvCQ37iC7e22416KWg3XbXVoqdTgnbXKieYIpSL8xLP8rZbovLH8hn2QgAK2UdlQPsLU5PrpM5CKmEeEActdWTcIh6jZv1CTxNaZ1I1KR7PH0L9qAaL6EQ4vEJslOWRUSnoZoCbKx5YJ0/s3264/20220812_111135.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2wPexHXjgO_7gHths1zDrVYlclSAy5gTyERAvuml8lENNvCQ37iC7e22416KWg3XbXVoqdTgnbXKieYIpSL8xLP8rZbovLH8hn2QgAK2UdlQPsLU5PrpM5CKmEeEActdWTcIh6jZv1CTxNaZ1I1KR7PH0L9qAaL6EQ4vEJslOWRUSnoZoCbKx5YJ0/w400-h225/20220812_111135.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A capela funerária de Cristiano IV</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Destaca-se o sarcófago da Rainha Margarete, a rainha que uniu
a Escandinávia no século XIV, chamada a Rainha do Norte. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6yqn01_tCTDJx8CGfvZLI5_aUKW38WI38TdN7gu-Cbm0l2ONRr1EQzgu2Jehi_kZKz0OH6DFIeFMYFWitkC7VGVqko00AqcPXuLqJONziwvjSg5Yjw_njiKpgDiTzmpyLhBp52pu_F9FMIIZJOToTI-TULhki-z6ADdF7tX6H9TFVGKs3lXIMxFV/s3264/20220812_111648.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR6yqn01_tCTDJx8CGfvZLI5_aUKW38WI38TdN7gu-Cbm0l2ONRr1EQzgu2Jehi_kZKz0OH6DFIeFMYFWitkC7VGVqko00AqcPXuLqJONziwvjSg5Yjw_njiKpgDiTzmpyLhBp52pu_F9FMIIZJOToTI-TULhki-z6ADdF7tX6H9TFVGKs3lXIMxFV/w400-h225/20220812_111648.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O sarcófago da rainha Margarete</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Algumas capelas mortuárias são magníficas, com túmulos
grandiosos e uma decoração esmerada. Outras são mais simples, respondendo a um
gosto mais contido e introspetivo. Mas, no seu conjunto, mostram-nos a evolução
do gosto e dos conceitos religiosos ao longo de mil anos.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8WaMBE__bgmvfRc0PfDO7szS29-RSOolRqlVYDxA1PxQJmdUmLcrWW4eUkPxTtiRD8ipq4v7EPiand7Cl-h3CULrQJjEH_nHQeJuDfhkdAzBa3Hbs71RhkIwsQnWbASpPdZQWZH1OLgQ-v9iUUC6EznfJGwDnl64_cfzWRsKUhGqbcFUPA4iJoo8/s4000/20220812_110310.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiM8WaMBE__bgmvfRc0PfDO7szS29-RSOolRqlVYDxA1PxQJmdUmLcrWW4eUkPxTtiRD8ipq4v7EPiand7Cl-h3CULrQJjEH_nHQeJuDfhkdAzBa3Hbs71RhkIwsQnWbASpPdZQWZH1OLgQ-v9iUUC6EznfJGwDnl64_cfzWRsKUhGqbcFUPA4iJoo8/w400-h225/20220812_110310.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os sarcófagos do rei Frederico VIII e da rainha Louise</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiciWp6CP7m-q7C0WDHFfDjBoY2r5wU0uA3pH-pLCbLXT9DUMzqDzgO3KTqnzJHrcPLDWWT72UtvslhjgeZMRZQSCExoDbHN2TnDAdTCeDIfLtuwiDV9aulqfz_QW78S1kCS4bmtkaXs6pWU1I6TeUJABOAIIjp5E4OuLmPnPq6h7_eQ0VTwkpJizNV/s4000/20220812_110634.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiciWp6CP7m-q7C0WDHFfDjBoY2r5wU0uA3pH-pLCbLXT9DUMzqDzgO3KTqnzJHrcPLDWWT72UtvslhjgeZMRZQSCExoDbHN2TnDAdTCeDIfLtuwiDV9aulqfz_QW78S1kCS4bmtkaXs6pWU1I6TeUJABOAIIjp5E4OuLmPnPq6h7_eQ0VTwkpJizNV/w400-h225/20220812_110634.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Sarcófago do rei Cristiano IX</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvXoDPtId45xU8B2VfuJXUWz2s6wXm8qaSR2VYUkx4Znp22m8xUbWtbCgcwgPp1o5ZhLHmZ5Dv7VZHWV2QcNx3logeEUMOMpLgErvqOeKJRANcmJGcJBIKPKYM3erLbx3BzLQFFTCaA_hRWlGS9DWsmLS-Y3teeZ4yOFVj9EYPM9TRub0gL0HAuPs/s4000/20220812_120549.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhYvXoDPtId45xU8B2VfuJXUWz2s6wXm8qaSR2VYUkx4Znp22m8xUbWtbCgcwgPp1o5ZhLHmZ5Dv7VZHWV2QcNx3logeEUMOMpLgErvqOeKJRANcmJGcJBIKPKYM3erLbx3BzLQFFTCaA_hRWlGS9DWsmLS-Y3teeZ4yOFVj9EYPM9TRub0gL0HAuPs/w225-h400/20220812_120549.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Túmulo de Cristiano I na Capela dos Reis Magos, construída no século XV</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Para além do seu simbolismo enquanto panteão da monarquia
dinamarquesa, a catedral mostra outros pormenores deliciosos, como o relógio do
século XV, em que S. Jorge mata o dragão a cada hora... </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2d-Q2tPcOO3wwQJAX6YNC86T9CDbFVi9EmUrWc7BnnLs47bucbnJX6L0FWPNemKYfF9LGhdCg2VmMSksrNIZEIF6d1UDYcFRkcFFLnEt4hJzRg5yqSMjY_cHtbjbZyMHGN-6F5wdx8z3hoWQqZXxXcdJvR6X1lfj3LhJjZwhyxooqqZXzGQQgSnTT/s4000/20220812_105944.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2d-Q2tPcOO3wwQJAX6YNC86T9CDbFVi9EmUrWc7BnnLs47bucbnJX6L0FWPNemKYfF9LGhdCg2VmMSksrNIZEIF6d1UDYcFRkcFFLnEt4hJzRg5yqSMjY_cHtbjbZyMHGN-6F5wdx8z3hoWQqZXxXcdJvR6X1lfj3LhJjZwhyxooqqZXzGQQgSnTT/w225-h400/20220812_105944.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">S. Jorge mata o dragão de hora a hora...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlAnSk8l9UZvzo_yZPF9lazQy6sDU4OV-lcdgfNY0zXM9hJ0DZp4I2YJ_mHRKu63MrU2cF34yyHegs3IHSliuChUd31G41ef9PrL4k9zBqiCPrx_xnQvnpm6z6usP4tKybyzRgYPCucQ3E2SD2gmawTfB8karqbpoBQrZHDaPY0nFBqEC4q_E6m6IJ/s4000/20220812_112036.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlAnSk8l9UZvzo_yZPF9lazQy6sDU4OV-lcdgfNY0zXM9hJ0DZp4I2YJ_mHRKu63MrU2cF34yyHegs3IHSliuChUd31G41ef9PrL4k9zBqiCPrx_xnQvnpm6z6usP4tKybyzRgYPCucQ3E2SD2gmawTfB8karqbpoBQrZHDaPY0nFBqEC4q_E6m6IJ/w400-h225/20220812_112036.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Retábulo no altar-mor da catedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">E, por entre outros
tesouros, a caixa privada mandada construir pelo rei Cristiano IV como um
enorme relicário, onde ele gostava de se recolher para assistir à missa...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOpIFtNicwV5sFBn0mrSLntluMTzaGupiV4GbHHb7nScEEKh14GCvSL3JnybR3YJu8yC3-mp4ApwHm0XudxFFCHzmqjYy3MuoB7LFplSJu0JInQCKi6DCR36s9Hm-0XItUsVfwcS0wExC2emqTSSiCEETGFANgDkrWkkZucCQFaS1TGy_I-BKPejy/s4000/20220812_113721.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgOOpIFtNicwV5sFBn0mrSLntluMTzaGupiV4GbHHb7nScEEKh14GCvSL3JnybR3YJu8yC3-mp4ApwHm0XudxFFCHzmqjYy3MuoB7LFplSJu0JInQCKi6DCR36s9Hm-0XItUsVfwcS0wExC2emqTSSiCEETGFANgDkrWkkZucCQFaS1TGy_I-BKPejy/w400-h225/20220812_113721.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A caixa privada de Cristiano IV</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7-x6w1Rw04eOKdS0b6mz741V8HTbXHPqau2VmRhNRahBv2V7mqEfLMiw5zc4G8s5umxT7RuVrURe91fa8juGhhENbsSXO-uSOKDh1s0dP8oqXbQLIavxKcrT5ztLexFiMprG8MfRY_LYaOh2A3gjSqt71d9RF-klJzq-jfGxsxSIj6xBCApyP3Ig/s4000/20220812_105303.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix7-x6w1Rw04eOKdS0b6mz741V8HTbXHPqau2VmRhNRahBv2V7mqEfLMiw5zc4G8s5umxT7RuVrURe91fa8juGhhENbsSXO-uSOKDh1s0dP8oqXbQLIavxKcrT5ztLexFiMprG8MfRY_LYaOh2A3gjSqt71d9RF-klJzq-jfGxsxSIj6xBCApyP3Ig/w225-h400/20220812_105303.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada da capela da família Trolle</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A catedral de Roskilde está inscrita na lista de Património
Mundial da UNESCO e a própria cidade está embebida da História da Dinamarca,
numa linha contínua que nos traz a herança viking até aos dias de hoje.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-20854183147849805262022-10-17T17:42:00.001+01:002022-10-17T17:42:34.343+01:00O Verão em Copenhaga<p><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiecK2CGxS4IpmDJXNZiaBjO0v2GhnZcJomDbw6TkbW9M5oV1lSiWju528Dyz9INOoKWGVUl1MT9HEq68wtVevQyRZMZvDC5E5Ij4OjcQ0SMyyaLLaXHzemsx4XAUU2LVJapf4i3CdgPBNjW82vACUEP4YboQy102xGEOe2azwoIqGFlm9e3N9PRP3/s4000/20220812_193721.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjiecK2CGxS4IpmDJXNZiaBjO0v2GhnZcJomDbw6TkbW9M5oV1lSiWju528Dyz9INOoKWGVUl1MT9HEq68wtVevQyRZMZvDC5E5Ij4OjcQ0SMyyaLLaXHzemsx4XAUU2LVJapf4i3CdgPBNjW82vACUEP4YboQy102xGEOe2azwoIqGFlm9e3N9PRP3/w400-h225/20220812_193721.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O canal de Nyhavn</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Chegar a Copenhaga a meio de uma tarde de verão, ainda por
cima num fim de semana, é uma experiência avassaladora. Dá a sensação que a
cidade está totalmente focada na experiência de usufruir da vida. Com alegria e
tranquilidade, mas a usufruir plenamente da vida.<o:p></o:p></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0HYzUhYZvhnTKGVxyDfkCkJeGaqvj4T-QBxOd0vGQ7AQu8I4wk3Vcb17UelvkWsLUtEoOD3E4EDmrUeF-ewvMwExR346LP1pkKTrUL8gsEllZqImgcPrikc8M-2Px8K4IZkW8esWwNdVsqsvEZRp3bxrTN2DdFy2uHmysW-5TUXJRVcrSxdaYtoH/s4000/20220813_130100.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhi0HYzUhYZvhnTKGVxyDfkCkJeGaqvj4T-QBxOd0vGQ7AQu8I4wk3Vcb17UelvkWsLUtEoOD3E4EDmrUeF-ewvMwExR346LP1pkKTrUL8gsEllZqImgcPrikc8M-2Px8K4IZkW8esWwNdVsqsvEZRp3bxrTN2DdFy2uHmysW-5TUXJRVcrSxdaYtoH/w400-h225/20220813_130100.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A banhos no canal...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A cidade de Copenhaga situa-se entre as ilhas de Zelândia e
Amager. O espaço entre as duas ilhas assemelha-se a um rio que passasse no meio
da cidade e a dividisse ao meio. Esse canal funciona, na realidade, como uma
imensa zona balnear. A administração da cidade colocou pontões e avançados de
madeira nas margens e milhares de dinamarqueses aproveitam o sol e a água, como
numa imensa praia ao longo de quilómetros de canal. Há gente a tomar banhos de
mar e há gente a tomar banhos de sol. Os pequenos barcos de recreio cruzam-se
com os banhistas que mergulham ou nadam tranquilamente. Há os que andam de
canoa e os que fazem equilibrismos em cima das pranchas. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgcRdpGkG67iUWAOUASpA7JbZvMNTRcjV6gAOl2zElp3SEfvvMs2ANN06aW6rd4r8Cj90sZHpX8bMdqxRwhBAk80C6HvkRgbnHhkfH9fA9SrEkIkbzZpLujxLfIKXKHL79qrVJQ2YuspZFlwWxag4jgPCf-UxohfEsyPU7U258wBAr2mrwt2qhm_Q/s4000/20220812_182923.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrgcRdpGkG67iUWAOUASpA7JbZvMNTRcjV6gAOl2zElp3SEfvvMs2ANN06aW6rd4r8Cj90sZHpX8bMdqxRwhBAk80C6HvkRgbnHhkfH9fA9SrEkIkbzZpLujxLfIKXKHL79qrVJQ2YuspZFlwWxag4jgPCf-UxohfEsyPU7U258wBAr2mrwt2qhm_Q/w400-h225/20220812_182923.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Praias urbanas no canal de Copenhaga</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhdqYlsu4Seacz_zc1042w7cN0_jPC38le44aAb1OcG-zeECMQbCsaqLnPdz-NKig6jaXREay-Cy1yuahDbizeyNz-v0y18RYqeYC98ECjliXVumgR_Jto56atVtW-gC15ewC1qRpF_vwgUBuAPZxqdg6Qsm1VK6L_m1EWuSUWrb-wo-ZsiDyfKMV/s4000/20220812_185406.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhhhdqYlsu4Seacz_zc1042w7cN0_jPC38le44aAb1OcG-zeECMQbCsaqLnPdz-NKig6jaXREay-Cy1yuahDbizeyNz-v0y18RYqeYC98ECjliXVumgR_Jto56atVtW-gC15ewC1qRpF_vwgUBuAPZxqdg6Qsm1VK6L_m1EWuSUWrb-wo-ZsiDyfKMV/w400-h225/20220812_185406.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">O mesmo acontece nos canais que rodeiam o canal principal.
Sento-me na margem de um canal a comer uma sanduiche e a pensar quando é que um
banhista será abalroado por um barco, se não um dos maiores, conduzidos por
marinheiros experientes, um dos mais pequenos, alugados a alegres grupos de
turistas, que vão passeando pelos canais, com um olho no leme e uma garrafa na
mão. Mas nada acontece, todos se cruzam e divertem com tranquilidade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBe7d9nWDIlr4ihI5FU9dgj4s54VrjK9d_244nlaQFj0tjkFIyvqRqWHEYaPZowI7lHakdPQC_tXssE9K7qHwKRB76L5mvqZNQ83HuLShGhuAI9sapy5Pq7GQWdY6IzSccH-jtyDDJBrW_lE8QpF5IqiCDofl3txtYZ56dXoRyUxUC0D-yvxkxDtO/s4000/20220813_175653.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWBe7d9nWDIlr4ihI5FU9dgj4s54VrjK9d_244nlaQFj0tjkFIyvqRqWHEYaPZowI7lHakdPQC_tXssE9K7qHwKRB76L5mvqZNQ83HuLShGhuAI9sapy5Pq7GQWdY6IzSccH-jtyDDJBrW_lE8QpF5IqiCDofl3txtYZ56dXoRyUxUC0D-yvxkxDtO/w225-h400/20220813_175653.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entre barcos e banhistas...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;">Nas margens dos canais, as casas coloridas estão
transformadas em habitações turísticas, restaurantes, bares... é a maldição das
grandes cidades europeias do século XXI. Mas, mesmo junto aos canais, há
instalações de madeira que vendem cerveja Carlsberg e </span><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">smørrebrød, aquela espécie de sanduiche tão típica da Dinamarca. </span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8XciryrCcPOzDk-ExN5_mBJ93ngIh-DX4sIGrZWr_q0WWq2uc3mnefg45cy5GR3s68D1Ipkd3IXUG8zKbOD-leAH762Zijamtyv1aTjKfXrPzKpqxT73GSCFB_e4WngzhvBAeRbk0Iwki5vFe5-YZk6WDBi7Yj80Rl680ndCi7ZSACIa2HZ_ve4p/s3861/20220812_193543.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2173" data-original-width="3861" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEix8XciryrCcPOzDk-ExN5_mBJ93ngIh-DX4sIGrZWr_q0WWq2uc3mnefg45cy5GR3s68D1Ipkd3IXUG8zKbOD-leAH762Zijamtyv1aTjKfXrPzKpqxT73GSCFB_e4WngzhvBAeRbk0Iwki5vFe5-YZk6WDBi7Yj80Rl680ndCi7ZSACIa2HZ_ve4p/w400-h225/20220812_193543.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Barcos, esplanadas e muita animação em Nyhavn...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em></em></div><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlq0eVUPHSBWGC8tOaeQzq0wV1VQiVXHZ_QiIbKmoP5JARH-B6_K9lELX6RHHr1tfcdawBZudmz2VFx0zAM71yxVfQR-tQ_fdQXGD5ty7HvkI120CCeMV6yN7ytwHK-eR1EtSodZVW9Y8gn1TXE_iTT-T1cAoQVSOdEw4C30rKcAYAj70zWbPsAov/s4000/20220812_183049.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMlq0eVUPHSBWGC8tOaeQzq0wV1VQiVXHZ_QiIbKmoP5JARH-B6_K9lELX6RHHr1tfcdawBZudmz2VFx0zAM71yxVfQR-tQ_fdQXGD5ty7HvkI120CCeMV6yN7ytwHK-eR1EtSodZVW9Y8gn1TXE_iTT-T1cAoQVSOdEw4C30rKcAYAj70zWbPsAov/w400-h225/20220812_183049.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">...mas também no canal central da cidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">O canal mais
famoso é Nyhavn e percebe-se porquê. Foi escavado no século XVII e as casas que
o rodeiam são dessa época, mas a animação é constante. Há uma quantidade
incrível de barcos ali atracados ou que cruzam o canal. Alguns são barcos
antigos, recuperados, que parecem ali estar apenas para compor o cenário. Um
ambiente muito animado, no meio de uma floresta de mastros. Milhares de pessoas
andam nos passeios, tiram fotografias, param nas esplanadas. Enquanto ali
estavamos, assistimos ao “Friday night skate”, com milhares de participantes
que desfilaram patinando alegremente, num desfile que integrava pessoas de todo
o tipo e de todas as idades. Viver a vida, em liberdade!...</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_HKwBi24s7atuxF32-ZPhyvKt7etgxeRt_RcS7fDXGqWvEVW-K1DeO5cvytNXwrizMcs-ZmFdRHP7FM87EeMoWZP1g8l1onjL0we0S9mVYhQHWbzrrxu_dTL2LJJO5L0paoU1ElOmeVKTckXeDp3SNalwmIJX19M9DYu49rPD6jDj37tD8z_68eK/s4000/20220813_181514.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhn_HKwBi24s7atuxF32-ZPhyvKt7etgxeRt_RcS7fDXGqWvEVW-K1DeO5cvytNXwrizMcs-ZmFdRHP7FM87EeMoWZP1g8l1onjL0we0S9mVYhQHWbzrrxu_dTL2LJJO5L0paoU1ElOmeVKTckXeDp3SNalwmIJX19M9DYu49rPD6jDj37tD8z_68eK/w400-h225/20220813_181514.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Nyhavn</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLLGeptpU03q2nxU_BSY463AwFMCRSs_uGMX7MKhaPUSqKh-xgjYRg26tBwn83lJUMGuIRE2CjZTy1uYgWGHQ895ofuqD6TIsr1bNZzxq6WFtgpasVuRr_SnlMOgEFemIPfRUW7KHTauN4EodKpITaFJWknGDIj8E0I-9Hz6RhxCm5tilbDZpu8Zj/s1920/20220812_193952_Moment2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1080" data-original-width="1920" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghLLGeptpU03q2nxU_BSY463AwFMCRSs_uGMX7MKhaPUSqKh-xgjYRg26tBwn83lJUMGuIRE2CjZTy1uYgWGHQ895ofuqD6TIsr1bNZzxq6WFtgpasVuRr_SnlMOgEFemIPfRUW7KHTauN4EodKpITaFJWknGDIj8E0I-9Hz6RhxCm5tilbDZpu8Zj/w400-h225/20220812_193952_Moment2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Friday night skate</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Pareceu-me que
essa aceitação e integração da diferença é uma característica da própria
cidade. O novo e o antigo coexistem com naturalidade. As torres de velhas
igrejas espreitam por trás de edifícios modernos, de arquitetura arrojada. Como
símbolo deste olhar cruzado, o Palácio de Amalienborg, um complexo de quatro
palácios de fachadas clássicas, residência da família real dinamarquesa. Do
outro lado do canal, a Ópera de Copenhaga, um edifício moderno e vanguardista.
Estão frente a frente, como duas faces de um espelho que refletisse esta
coexistência do passado e do futuro. </span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZ6GvuRieS0Nk-iGTaMGOq5XOGHuVata6p0aiLeS2aO-gz0an6Fz2NqL8lZ_KaLHT2HCpyuokDmjLIIcrmjTfPJ5oe_DMO7nDCQ25SueTs-Lc0RnUbXyzjE2DKWTfk-H2pbrEKYiZpzhQZUYsCS4D-eEzwqnAqHL6HKbA3UvKzZSq2CV0ouS0yP1U/s3881/20220813_183634.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2183" data-original-width="3881" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeZ6GvuRieS0Nk-iGTaMGOq5XOGHuVata6p0aiLeS2aO-gz0an6Fz2NqL8lZ_KaLHT2HCpyuokDmjLIIcrmjTfPJ5oe_DMO7nDCQ25SueTs-Lc0RnUbXyzjE2DKWTfk-H2pbrEKYiZpzhQZUYsCS4D-eEzwqnAqHL6HKbA3UvKzZSq2CV0ouS0yP1U/w400-h225/20220813_183634.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">No Palácio de Amalienborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><em></em></div><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiqOFPhZtLhxMCyEsU6GlOIfWQDVvAHhbICwOC2txaN5YpNr_wLLqueltJs1p9zJ467HJvi4O6TE613pEPIb5PvgYv3-CntEawsfEK6oEWOXI9HmpStPe47dLctdRh8AqXPeZj5w4jTzuOMfWQW8VU8M5TFxAXuJTu4NXXSnHFGlkFCyIRfrw4cORU/s3573/20220813_184243.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3573" data-original-width="2134" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiqOFPhZtLhxMCyEsU6GlOIfWQDVvAHhbICwOC2txaN5YpNr_wLLqueltJs1p9zJ467HJvi4O6TE613pEPIb5PvgYv3-CntEawsfEK6oEWOXI9HmpStPe47dLctdRh8AqXPeZj5w4jTzuOMfWQW8VU8M5TFxAXuJTu4NXXSnHFGlkFCyIRfrw4cORU/w239-h400/20220813_184243.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A chamada "igreja de mármore" junto ao Palácio</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ0Ea9faq9BGRl5_xP-kPWkxckZrgcITtd13HBNGEBnwRtxSVr9AMWvvDhv_563qaotdvcBuSs71jErrWZUIgHZbzSEdk9qU_CCX3O7ymllFz5IaZlrtyUTSxxW3-xHogM8Fpt0Ef3UBV5L5djNXpjYBiAKef9KOi1rmL09Vkngv36SRUuv8xpw6Xk/s4000/20220813_123500.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZ0Ea9faq9BGRl5_xP-kPWkxckZrgcITtd13HBNGEBnwRtxSVr9AMWvvDhv_563qaotdvcBuSs71jErrWZUIgHZbzSEdk9qU_CCX3O7ymllFz5IaZlrtyUTSxxW3-xHogM8Fpt0Ef3UBV5L5djNXpjYBiAKef9KOi1rmL09Vkngv36SRUuv8xpw6Xk/w400-h225/20220813_123500.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A moderníssima Ópera de Copenhaga</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqBYAx1siUVdf1uEgrP1BNYySy0FG-tEmDJjqnGECWJagUvu94onD-3aUyfqaqb3FKSZwI41cENsAmZe7OzKsmagRnrJFa34iruwZPVlUOIoPawsbyj8DPy-nyAfkbzEGE7pxUHZsMfydwjo5WSg3RNek39injbXqVgF54gV_OlmkleIN1pPGeUN1O/s3873/20220813_123224.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2179" data-original-width="3873" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqBYAx1siUVdf1uEgrP1BNYySy0FG-tEmDJjqnGECWJagUvu94onD-3aUyfqaqb3FKSZwI41cENsAmZe7OzKsmagRnrJFa34iruwZPVlUOIoPawsbyj8DPy-nyAfkbzEGE7pxUHZsMfydwjo5WSg3RNek39injbXqVgF54gV_OlmkleIN1pPGeUN1O/w400-h225/20220813_123224.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O Palácio de Amalienborg, visto da Ópera</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhuvsdI_z16WLDMAjuQfAUnZtUl5rwuEuohtjgAaAdsBzbmLfuCqYBO23tMXT14Eq5mr4Bx50mxXDTXIpNhm5cBktk-Ge-5oSFkkC8hK09DkdEbxKjkGIp_oLB6I_43FPU12uTAl29roRKHtiMX70-3B1e5-DTbWlVYnvitk5_2Vv2Brn_qpgkFYj/s3390/20220813_183455.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1902" data-original-width="3390" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdhuvsdI_z16WLDMAjuQfAUnZtUl5rwuEuohtjgAaAdsBzbmLfuCqYBO23tMXT14Eq5mr4Bx50mxXDTXIpNhm5cBktk-Ge-5oSFkkC8hK09DkdEbxKjkGIp_oLB6I_43FPU12uTAl29roRKHtiMX70-3B1e5-DTbWlVYnvitk5_2Vv2Brn_qpgkFYj/w400-h225/20220813_183455.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A Ópera, vista do Palácio de Amalienborg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">A zona mais antiga
da cidade, o centro histórico, chama-se Indre By e aí se concentram as
construções mais antigas e mais emblemáticas, como o Palácio de Christianborg,
onde funciona o Parlamento, e o Castelo de Rosenborg, onde hoje se guardam as
jóias da Coroa. </span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></p><p class="MsoNormal"><em></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7o1pNcLd_ev49OQibJMSJsU1yUN7AJ2TEU4qBI_EoCgg6oi0YhVeOyuqsiqo0FFebLXsM5WZ12o1TujgtbXk9s2OZmiVhrggrmRFzc7JWMG89DaLVVH5WMw9fjBOM4JxIDfJPkKnioyysWEkWucQpD0q1MYXp4G-3OcN01pRJKSZUOaED_K2TWwM/s4000/20220813_171136.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp7o1pNcLd_ev49OQibJMSJsU1yUN7AJ2TEU4qBI_EoCgg6oi0YhVeOyuqsiqo0FFebLXsM5WZ12o1TujgtbXk9s2OZmiVhrggrmRFzc7JWMG89DaLVVH5WMw9fjBOM4JxIDfJPkKnioyysWEkWucQpD0q1MYXp4G-3OcN01pRJKSZUOaED_K2TWwM/w400-h225/20220813_171136.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Passeando por Indre By</span></td></tr></tbody></table><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2977" data-original-width="1958" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi9SvqEP8btoyNzx5HMiH8UZ91tSTYYaLqx2C15Bq0r4A28X7YQuk0aK2zB--kD2iNIu1pP5GZWHDog_UeGe_dFZbsQj77B9bd25Wxghr3Qgph9Gf9n4OVOB4ArmjG1sETSeG08TCGWahrX7dfrckV4OgLxlKgPb7eS4pwES6qSu1CNL2aQsV4rqM2f/w263-h400/20220813_170826.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="263" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Um quiosque na Strøget, a rua pedonal mais movimentada</span><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table></em><p></p></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal"><em></em></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3133" data-original-width="2202" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EzpujrdFtBQmzE0P91tkRWyViyVinSNBwwW5tCXJR4IKn8W8hI36IHYxfpMaxLqWsYNXPdgXsLSY7lgUakiwnWG54b_F4aaO_Lpocp3Nwy58iP773VLDhr4Lhza0pYYwpK4cyj5sLWcNA-88GtfEX6PBLccpej8DmmxIAHrc3o5evMcILkwSy5PR/w281-h400/20220813_171450.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="281" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada da Rundetarn, uma torre do século XVII com um observatório</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><div style="text-align: center;"><em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1EzpujrdFtBQmzE0P91tkRWyViyVinSNBwwW5tCXJR4IKn8W8hI36IHYxfpMaxLqWsYNXPdgXsLSY7lgUakiwnWG54b_F4aaO_Lpocp3Nwy58iP773VLDhr4Lhza0pYYwpK4cyj5sLWcNA-88GtfEX6PBLccpej8DmmxIAHrc3o5evMcILkwSy5PR/s3133/20220813_171450.jpg"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"></span></a></em></div><em><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZYqprCmABwPNfxeeNpf3qCIXNDkqqqPMPzxo0vZESWP5L3zbjd1qD_mC3iYRqFXcbGz3nUJZWVbMXjWfgOUyr04fsIyz8fvVdl-Z6RFXP-evzaOJ_JpYxh1L25ILQOlPGrnIpfCWI5UjBMIjWCaLExsGwzw3DA5lS4M-3cLSJ2qLFAdMNWTuVhue/s4000/20220813_172526.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaZYqprCmABwPNfxeeNpf3qCIXNDkqqqPMPzxo0vZESWP5L3zbjd1qD_mC3iYRqFXcbGz3nUJZWVbMXjWfgOUyr04fsIyz8fvVdl-Z6RFXP-evzaOJ_JpYxh1L25ILQOlPGrnIpfCWI5UjBMIjWCaLExsGwzw3DA5lS4M-3cLSJ2qLFAdMNWTuVhue/w225-h400/20220813_172526.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Fontanário em Strøget</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">O Castelo de
Rosenborg é dos mais bonitos que vi, na Dinamarca. Situado no meio de um lago e
de uns jardins belíssimos, é um castelo renascentista todo construído em
tijolo, num estilo que se repete, com maior ou menor magnificência, por todo o
país.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcrKrdk0fPVeIOh7ZVLq1TmuKYIbAx8wDfYs5C7whRc5PMBcHiwg0hupvjcy2k0lRuJYCx5LyMR2D7G0tNQCddgoyuxYfOPmgClYh1ZPuvgpIBx1px0-XLz8xHwUO7rg4x-BXPX9pv-G07HdLPhHrCayMaaCvGFzUB56M2U_-VHGePXZVbqLQrGQM/s3509/20220813_160312.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3509" data-original-width="2090" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIcrKrdk0fPVeIOh7ZVLq1TmuKYIbAx8wDfYs5C7whRc5PMBcHiwg0hupvjcy2k0lRuJYCx5LyMR2D7G0tNQCddgoyuxYfOPmgClYh1ZPuvgpIBx1px0-XLz8xHwUO7rg4x-BXPX9pv-G07HdLPhHrCayMaaCvGFzUB56M2U_-VHGePXZVbqLQrGQM/w239-h400/20220813_160312.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Palácio de Rosenborg, no meio dos jardins</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><br /></em></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6rBFq4OKzCsA7k_cRUrMeHNgHWdARp1G2DM9rQ8KHlqj7wRt1B_EbWJ_BEZ83dQTKjSxe2uLxFdbVak-rLhWobY3LQMIpZ0wUUuY-pUj9Dwypod9KROJ46_40oOVVlbmTXodC2VKJyLkpm3S1a1XyyRQLP7q5ZEnHlQB_OadGkrh-5Eo_JeRJwNz/s4000/20220813_161635.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjW6rBFq4OKzCsA7k_cRUrMeHNgHWdARp1G2DM9rQ8KHlqj7wRt1B_EbWJ_BEZ83dQTKjSxe2uLxFdbVak-rLhWobY3LQMIpZ0wUUuY-pUj9Dwypod9KROJ46_40oOVVlbmTXodC2VKJyLkpm3S1a1XyyRQLP7q5ZEnHlQB_OadGkrh-5Eo_JeRJwNz/w400-h225/20220813_161635.jpg" width="400" /></a></em></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></em></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">A Bolsa de
Copenhaga é um dos edifícios mais originais da cidade, com o seu
telhado cónico, que parece guardado por estranhos animais mitológicos.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZS95UZ1QvXg-1vkI2_BsufQCj9StEJdsPqCY0pSE5rjSm3BgdiLUWYcLHcIigNliOC417LSjWaYvBWrSmiyLc_2tuLOR42pYaIVl0BgdXf3xt-VI-64bFWpw53Y8snRlC82H39iNu6ymMSEKTjDv9HPyB2P_mhxw78oyfeMq-Ql1vNjnUsdT9QpD/s2298/20220813_175514.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1518" data-original-width="2298" height="264" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZS95UZ1QvXg-1vkI2_BsufQCj9StEJdsPqCY0pSE5rjSm3BgdiLUWYcLHcIigNliOC417LSjWaYvBWrSmiyLc_2tuLOR42pYaIVl0BgdXf3xt-VI-64bFWpw53Y8snRlC82H39iNu6ymMSEKTjDv9HPyB2P_mhxw78oyfeMq-Ql1vNjnUsdT9QpD/w400-h264/20220813_175514.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Royal Exchange, a Bolsa de Copenhaga</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">E o bispo Absalão,
o fundador da cidade no longínquo século XII, continua a dominar o centro
histórico, de cima do seu cavalo...</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBB5SXm-uwpa7jQYADeGjuDD_2W2fhuYfRaGNAveznFTsiFbNdc_hqoKB7Vco2xOdC7Qj0rz4lXrdFPgZJHRyDWDlbqoRykO6p-bcJjpe4pSLss51J5MSZyb46mzLHaXp7ns_c5xqc8aAxTLtcF729FbAtzpOpeveuw7rRpMz78riUUvN22sPsJ_Gc/s3348/20220813_173255.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3348" data-original-width="2012" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBB5SXm-uwpa7jQYADeGjuDD_2W2fhuYfRaGNAveznFTsiFbNdc_hqoKB7Vco2xOdC7Qj0rz4lXrdFPgZJHRyDWDlbqoRykO6p-bcJjpe4pSLss51J5MSZyb46mzLHaXp7ns_c5xqc8aAxTLtcF729FbAtzpOpeveuw7rRpMz78riUUvN22sPsJ_Gc/w240-h400/20220813_173255.jpg" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Estátua do Bispo Absalão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Mas é preciso sair
do centro da cidade e caminhar um bom bocado pelas docas para encontrar a
estátua que se transformou no símbolo da cidade: a pequena sereia, inspirada no
conto homónimo de Hans Christian Andersen. Mede apenas 125 cm. Foi mandada
fazer pelo filho do fundador da fábrica de cerveja Carlsberg, como um ato de
publicidade e uma homenagem à cidade. Esculpida por Edvard Erikson, foi colocada junto ao mar em 1913. A publicidade foi eficaz, não restam
dúvidas. Não há forma de ir a Copenhaga e não procurar a pequena sereia, que
olha melancolicamente para o mar, empoleirada no seu rochedo.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em></em></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46qyBtD1oxsF4LWeBUb9HEFb7PjVW3iwzFYGflC6156achrIhXxtMWKpkAZqgY3gdgd-Tl32mt2SljnYkeOycmMIxcjUI8kXes2kT0axr2UUbR5sFyY3diEh95GyREDb1yFvbY2J-x5zr4ZUQQw70pVCCpqV7iGmqhkVYmF16KI9ngO1OJQt8NEmW/s3098/20220813_151214.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3098" data-original-width="2117" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi46qyBtD1oxsF4LWeBUb9HEFb7PjVW3iwzFYGflC6156achrIhXxtMWKpkAZqgY3gdgd-Tl32mt2SljnYkeOycmMIxcjUI8kXes2kT0axr2UUbR5sFyY3diEh95GyREDb1yFvbY2J-x5zr4ZUQQw70pVCCpqV7iGmqhkVYmF16KI9ngO1OJQt8NEmW/w274-h400/20220813_151214.jpg" width="274" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Pequena Sereia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;">
</p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;">Finalmente, desde
2012, a sereia tem uma espécie de alter-ego. Chama-se Han, que significa </span></em><em><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">ele</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"> em dinamarquês, e também olha melancolicamente para o mar noutra
cidade do país. Temos de ir à sua procura! Mas isso fica para outro post.</span></em><em><span style="background: white; font-style: normal; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></em></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-37310465815764304492022-10-05T15:17:00.001+01:002022-11-27T19:00:56.998+00:00Hamburgo, a rainha das cidades hanseáticas<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkVQ510abphNppRAxHdgdQLxoNat5lhRDPPxcOs3y7Xr2_OmQdv_kPfwmH9ElaM3qxKFOd1e8xQjd-3tKPdqYM9kWfuLg7wQ9mYCRwQRecVHsn7Mqyp_bA32ngmCrVFWnVE9AxeKz0FXZTnwjUJ-inBeH1GpFR3M9gUrTn1QLQ6i8i7ppCE0Nis-e/s3008/20220807_173121.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2245" data-original-width="3008" height="299" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrkVQ510abphNppRAxHdgdQLxoNat5lhRDPPxcOs3y7Xr2_OmQdv_kPfwmH9ElaM3qxKFOd1e8xQjd-3tKPdqYM9kWfuLg7wQ9mYCRwQRecVHsn7Mqyp_bA32ngmCrVFWnVE9AxeKz0FXZTnwjUJ-inBeH1GpFR3M9gUrTn1QLQ6i8i7ppCE0Nis-e/w400-h299/20220807_173121.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Homenagem aos barqueiros do Elba</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Se a Liga Hanseática foi criada em <span style="background: white;">Lübeck, como foi
já descrito no <a href="https://olharesviajantes.blogspot.com/2022/09/as-cidades-hanseaticas-do-norte-da.html" target="_blank">post anterior</a>, a cidade que mais se afirmou e prosperou com essa
associação mercantil foi Hamburgo, ao ponto de ainda hoje se intitular “Cidade
Hanseática”. O símbolo da Hansa continua a ver-se, nos transportes públicos,
por exemplo, e nos nomes das mais variadas instituições e empresas. Claramente,
é um fator identitário importante na cidade.</span><span style="background: white;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs85ggY7VJKHgjqsfdOMTK7ctkqfGmFqojEZjfzwSY4YFf1XLxlykW3GZhlBvFi7AllM9682JdUIyO9KEIZ-TRBvhfLAc22EwbsMWjn1IJq8vcithrQeMyQb44jlfmdVwDSAYEcntrMBAiK4-Db0bnU41cokp74r0HVCKppCpmgNiEUxYUWPZKoe5z/s4000/20220819_201358.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs85ggY7VJKHgjqsfdOMTK7ctkqfGmFqojEZjfzwSY4YFf1XLxlykW3GZhlBvFi7AllM9682JdUIyO9KEIZ-TRBvhfLAc22EwbsMWjn1IJq8vcithrQeMyQb44jlfmdVwDSAYEcntrMBAiK4-Db0bnU41cokp74r0HVCKppCpmgNiEUxYUWPZKoe5z/w400-h225/20220819_201358.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As pontes do rio Alster</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2ueu32uXTNnBRyVXkAGiluYCvJNOt6YNv3xHclTPVkhznAWVhN6PyIBFtoUXVjRcEoMvtjFP1r6IoeJSqFHoffwYSh9Uv8RvygLjlNnGEb-TY8pbf6vSg3rwfdjPypODV_cRosD6h7btYwbWr89BvKqjk2mphECErQawOSp_SPSXTthXz5KGfwSd/s4000/20220819_210047.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-2ueu32uXTNnBRyVXkAGiluYCvJNOt6YNv3xHclTPVkhznAWVhN6PyIBFtoUXVjRcEoMvtjFP1r6IoeJSqFHoffwYSh9Uv8RvygLjlNnGEb-TY8pbf6vSg3rwfdjPypODV_cRosD6h7btYwbWr89BvKqjk2mphECErQawOSp_SPSXTthXz5KGfwSd/w400-h225/20220819_210047.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>Situada nas margens do rio Elba e do seu afluente Alster,
Hamburgo tem 2302 pontes, mais do que as cidades de Veneza e Amesterdão juntas.
Evidentemente, muitas dessas pontes são modernas, ao contrário do que acontece
naquelas cidades. Não podemos esquecer que Hamburgo foi pesadamente bombardeada
na 2.ª Guerra Mundial e muito do seu miolo, do seu coração histórico,
desapareceu. Mas algumas antigas pontes subsistem, como as que dão acesso à zona
dos armazéns marítimos, e onde encontramos a homenagem a personalidades que
abriram o comércio do mundo, como Cristovão Colombo e Vasco da Gama.</span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXgUhZkjkQSWezWrN9-khrLydIgvrqCqbPH7c2B9S4FqIf0aWPVn2mkcZ5DKFPvHdpVb3EYSOxS6Qqsp2JIaZa74v42aMCfzuVlohvPeRZxFNKGEL7IeU5Ki7lOOSO38BkA7xr9XJpQnhOB_XyplkXT34W5tuk_iECGkc6rdzQ2ey0jKcIbA2PSnH/s4000/20220820_112349.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgXgUhZkjkQSWezWrN9-khrLydIgvrqCqbPH7c2B9S4FqIf0aWPVn2mkcZ5DKFPvHdpVb3EYSOxS6Qqsp2JIaZa74v42aMCfzuVlohvPeRZxFNKGEL7IeU5Ki7lOOSO38BkA7xr9XJpQnhOB_XyplkXT34W5tuk_iECGkc6rdzQ2ey0jKcIbA2PSnH/w225-h400/20220820_112349.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma imagem pouco habitual de Vasco da Gama</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">O centro da cidade encontra-se na na zona de Jungfernstiege,
com os seus pórticos e arcadas, entre o enorme lago Binnenalster e a monumental
Rathaus (Câmara Municipal). É uma zona elegante, cheia de esplanadas e centros
comerciais, mas é nas escadarias que levam ao lago que muitos hamburgueses
gostam de se sentar ao fim do dia, a ver o movimento dos barcos de recreio. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNw-ABYSspAbCmEIdD33swOwdxMZZ6gR8K0wkIXu_LV86CoDfB-alI6LZyJUtJGk6mOkKdDNSPWqc2zvGbryldVQFPEcyWoPQidJXsDfC0F4cmDJG6bZzyeTwXjuRdAL7v4bfNjbxPU_GK0S7R2z-zJlbRkM0VoFM-ycZcTIlu15n7--hYe6HRs1J/s4000/20220819_195928.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgaNw-ABYSspAbCmEIdD33swOwdxMZZ6gR8K0wkIXu_LV86CoDfB-alI6LZyJUtJGk6mOkKdDNSPWqc2zvGbryldVQFPEcyWoPQidJXsDfC0F4cmDJG6bZzyeTwXjuRdAL7v4bfNjbxPU_GK0S7R2z-zJlbRkM0VoFM-ycZcTIlu15n7--hYe6HRs1J/w225-h400/20220819_195928.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Rathaus, vista da Jungfernstiege</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJxj8KTcRt3ICnsPWZ_tZYv6ZIVWBFrLMjtl48JKt0UWLzb-swjcZ0E1FnqHjQE0YPoRd4V9tsX-4JUweS1Oww1J4RHB48wzXq8ct_EMBL_D6lptf35yiRb96d2myJ0c1E_3LVtHxpeNMr06lgrvB1x4qOdPWxiW1xUXsaPULT2fxNbsIA2v_Vhfm/s4000/20220819_190759.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilJxj8KTcRt3ICnsPWZ_tZYv6ZIVWBFrLMjtl48JKt0UWLzb-swjcZ0E1FnqHjQE0YPoRd4V9tsX-4JUweS1Oww1J4RHB48wzXq8ct_EMBL_D6lptf35yiRb96d2myJ0c1E_3LVtHxpeNMr06lgrvB1x4qOdPWxiW1xUXsaPULT2fxNbsIA2v_Vhfm/w400-h225/20220819_190759.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O lago Binnenalster</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">No
canal, junto à Rathaus, ergue-se o memorial aos 40 000 filhos da cidade
que morreram na 1.ª Guerra Mundial. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfVu8eEmtopGH-_y5RIbDU2IiVAbKmsyvmvgzLRsw6TcGlV6lPzWoVhRomWcTR88Y1N6wY6NsCIb6mf2Sw-JqhQXfj4AEjeqk3fkqNYkWxluPMbK_RB89nN1EEgx7gySlIsCOI87TAR3R-WQ8tnZcQwQsf3CDVWEtRu1nxlLBI3RjPoBNyAScaCVh/s3815/20220807_200939.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3815" data-original-width="2146" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsfVu8eEmtopGH-_y5RIbDU2IiVAbKmsyvmvgzLRsw6TcGlV6lPzWoVhRomWcTR88Y1N6wY6NsCIb6mf2Sw-JqhQXfj4AEjeqk3fkqNYkWxluPMbK_RB89nN1EEgx7gySlIsCOI87TAR3R-WQ8tnZcQwQsf3CDVWEtRu1nxlLBI3RjPoBNyAScaCVh/w225-h400/20220807_200939.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Memorial aos mortos da 1.ª Guerra Mundial</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Da 2.ª Guerra Mundial não sabemos as
estatísticas; mas as ruínas da Igreja gótica de St. Nikolai mostram-nos bem o
grau de destruição. Só a torre sobreviveu... Hoje, toda a zona destruída da igreja mantém-se como um
pequeno museu e um memorial contra a guerra, contra todas as guerras.</span><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiAclKs55jMDq24kYNuwwImYLQ1-z2rJjunm6odEI-U5y5JKEltyE21PA95_5rAO_mvT0rAtXI6voCFFL0kwJBomWQyLQfO_ytqk-4dvMQ08T6SBgT6b66xd2MggBz9GDuOra4Kh_5wkXfsbTzxsoMwqS5fxmDoC_fqj-T7bOoVDg1doXUfVDWaWFw/s4000/20220807_193800.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiiAclKs55jMDq24kYNuwwImYLQ1-z2rJjunm6odEI-U5y5JKEltyE21PA95_5rAO_mvT0rAtXI6voCFFL0kwJBomWQyLQfO_ytqk-4dvMQ08T6SBgT6b66xd2MggBz9GDuOra4Kh_5wkXfsbTzxsoMwqS5fxmDoC_fqj-T7bOoVDg1doXUfVDWaWFw/w225-h400/20220807_193800.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A torre da igreja St. Nikolai</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgER-hvQwPSVaqTHGH0YZjOCYxeWalS1JIGJF2qGrzuPaceNXzNqbVtv7ttgIKsx9awcfjx-vMMzrwmA8RMHHK9BokLB2AvbjivYcSTtwWHihYdRq06E7SaR0NuZwnKaYmyfX3k_jWY9Kcby1TvzJajOE_29DEwCxEOffh_9kRpoU5S_8UnIvOWLn0m/s4000/20220807_194444.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgER-hvQwPSVaqTHGH0YZjOCYxeWalS1JIGJF2qGrzuPaceNXzNqbVtv7ttgIKsx9awcfjx-vMMzrwmA8RMHHK9BokLB2AvbjivYcSTtwWHihYdRq06E7SaR0NuZwnKaYmyfX3k_jWY9Kcby1TvzJajOE_29DEwCxEOffh_9kRpoU5S_8UnIvOWLn0m/w400-h225/20220807_194444.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A área ocupada pela nave tornou-se um memorial contra a guerra</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGjVckR3XN2C7vFKbMN2u5_YwUUXRnASLzHmzA0dml1PwpDHPR1hEThf9lEowHxpk7KNCW7B2HrgZznFYivo9Ks1wJ33DjnE4fbvlFxO049kTwEZnIqe2XGRUAtWBt-uBhj2NNAGooC8MjSNDx_BtY_Bk7Ru_y14v4ofAPxZbGr7PeED8yucU7UC0x/s3649/20220807_194503.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3649" data-original-width="2219" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGjVckR3XN2C7vFKbMN2u5_YwUUXRnASLzHmzA0dml1PwpDHPR1hEThf9lEowHxpk7KNCW7B2HrgZznFYivo9Ks1wJ33DjnE4fbvlFxO049kTwEZnIqe2XGRUAtWBt-uBhj2NNAGooC8MjSNDx_BtY_Bk7Ru_y14v4ofAPxZbGr7PeED8yucU7UC0x/w244-h400/20220807_194503.jpg" width="244" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Uma janela que restou...</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">A Rathaus, enorme, belíssima, imponente, domina a praça
principal. Está cheia de pormenores esculpidos, estatuária, fontes, tanto no
exterior, como no interior. Vale a pena perder tempo a contemplá-la.</span><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEQkLiTrN-TwHThsDiuJT30kirDksUojKdJyArok8o2GHcACw-pHVMuyh37fy9qGafdvk1_yNqS5hU1U_GmtHI7P49mMqMMo9L1XgJ6pTV9nRSbtHwzXoxLUhlQFBKEM--zj11nFGcHSxjhWPlaPNmyfR-NhNfRMsvoksSVbeDD9YkV7Vt4WM8SbZ/s4000/20220807_205645.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidEQkLiTrN-TwHThsDiuJT30kirDksUojKdJyArok8o2GHcACw-pHVMuyh37fy9qGafdvk1_yNqS5hU1U_GmtHI7P49mMqMMo9L1XgJ6pTV9nRSbtHwzXoxLUhlQFBKEM--zj11nFGcHSxjhWPlaPNmyfR-NhNfRMsvoksSVbeDD9YkV7Vt4WM8SbZ/w400-h225/20220807_205645.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Rathaus, exterior</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtN05RiyGHqxn-cHVT0kPPT4ijvvyX-jejwnhGRXraNkERthR61NUqXQHAquMdnypPC17307kFSVhOVre4rOJXOJDhAhQT3jgmP_bM8Bh3wscgB5omjKn-tvzVzJgcyIfKW8vSV8bxWWmvvv2_LX0lby2MSSR4UtzOZdPcYP20YmYsdaOUrRpR_Li6/s3359/20220807_195903.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3359" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtN05RiyGHqxn-cHVT0kPPT4ijvvyX-jejwnhGRXraNkERthR61NUqXQHAquMdnypPC17307kFSVhOVre4rOJXOJDhAhQT3jgmP_bM8Bh3wscgB5omjKn-tvzVzJgcyIfKW8vSV8bxWWmvvv2_LX0lby2MSSR4UtzOZdPcYP20YmYsdaOUrRpR_Li6/w268-h400/20220807_195903.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A Rathaus, pátio interior</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Mas a riqueza e o coração da cidade está no rio Elba e no
porto que ali se desenvolveu. A cidade acarinha o porto e podemos caminhar
quilómetros ao longo das suas margens, sempre com os olhos no movimento dos
barcos e das gruas. Pelo caminho, há muitos parques e edifícios relacionados
com o movimento portuário, como as alfândegas, mas também muitas esplanadas e
armazéns transformados em museus ou centros culturais. Atracado na margem,
chama-nos a atenção um U-Boot, um dos velhos submarinos alemães que tanta
destruição criaram no Atlântico, durante a Guerra. Há um pequeno museu dedicado
aos U-Boot, com visitas explicativas.</span><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSHd_UD9hHKX3phTaJiLeUGkax83JVuIbYkI8TZoKk3bLdu_OzM5ngwNTBqyHFxpIbIzMxpMT8HgrbbkyAFo0Ou1mod5bVdx7CZ8Ug7VYArhwcFJB4S1-8XoNm4_PBmS14MvsGHyTk9u5b9ZzUz2kPcoBOMbjcsi41RWUEYlyQuRuvPPiJXSEux_A/s4000/20220807_173216.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdSHd_UD9hHKX3phTaJiLeUGkax83JVuIbYkI8TZoKk3bLdu_OzM5ngwNTBqyHFxpIbIzMxpMT8HgrbbkyAFo0Ou1mod5bVdx7CZ8Ug7VYArhwcFJB4S1-8XoNm4_PBmS14MvsGHyTk9u5b9ZzUz2kPcoBOMbjcsi41RWUEYlyQuRuvPPiJXSEux_A/w400-h225/20220807_173216.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma floresta de gruas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRF5nTDWLRSucRNg6J0gdjhC-7zzQB0W9BebfruDfV3O3YhPR0fcUyyoktl0UlTakZWQTlYr4-G7xa7Awvgdmvq5EZoVO1rSeTb-n6V9oIx2-ZtdLr3Fj-8YvIFxydaOSIZrKOeljTDBJX2Jx-iBhzitOVNBq7pE1wOVLm2tbhxx-qGd2E9yggP6oi/s3264/20220807_181402.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRF5nTDWLRSucRNg6J0gdjhC-7zzQB0W9BebfruDfV3O3YhPR0fcUyyoktl0UlTakZWQTlYr4-G7xa7Awvgdmvq5EZoVO1rSeTb-n6V9oIx2-ZtdLr3Fj-8YvIFxydaOSIZrKOeljTDBJX2Jx-iBhzitOVNBq7pE1wOVLm2tbhxx-qGd2E9yggP6oi/w400-h225/20220807_181402.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">A velha alfândega</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2z9eq4d3-Xw3O8B6l-0j6LRcXmkpw7RlOP4_CK5HiFrt7IxJG17Z1ATNOc9nuLCBhonkV7SH26JEiCq0w3GUdfwc27UBdEmHAIxanedkmqLgPv2YTmIgdFmRwK8BCD3eD2IUPoh5gXiTuWT3n-DQNY_dPJPxHjjVQlGqEkSwldTlmbMWyeROyXp_/s4000/20220807_193118.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgN2z9eq4d3-Xw3O8B6l-0j6LRcXmkpw7RlOP4_CK5HiFrt7IxJG17Z1ATNOc9nuLCBhonkV7SH26JEiCq0w3GUdfwc27UBdEmHAIxanedkmqLgPv2YTmIgdFmRwK8BCD3eD2IUPoh5gXiTuWT3n-DQNY_dPJPxHjjVQlGqEkSwldTlmbMWyeROyXp_/w400-h225/20220807_193118.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O Speicherstadt</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">É na confluência do Elba com o Alster que se encontra o
Speicherstadt, o maior conjunto de armazéns de mercadorias do mundo ainda em
funcionamento, e por conseguinte monumento protegido pela UNESCO. É também aí,
nesse conjunto monumental de armazéns, de que alguns datam do século XV, que
podemos ter uma noção da importância do movimento comercial que aqui se
centrava. </span><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9syttSmejVF2ZCHv3PFRB8LH-mQJ7DQCYAhlciLgzTx_qx28HbQ-44PgOGf43bOtlyipohRJwBqnk1JeOBR2p1EfGTNOb2nTDZgtBaSBTj5w5gPTtBsAdJRm6V9rr7rcYdQOblmRBF2WdxLu4_M1h7cgAXI_R1hiPXIcmsmmbKqDSa0Y8O7NlF0fv/s4000/20220820_111845.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9syttSmejVF2ZCHv3PFRB8LH-mQJ7DQCYAhlciLgzTx_qx28HbQ-44PgOGf43bOtlyipohRJwBqnk1JeOBR2p1EfGTNOb2nTDZgtBaSBTj5w5gPTtBsAdJRm6V9rr7rcYdQOblmRBF2WdxLu4_M1h7cgAXI_R1hiPXIcmsmmbKqDSa0Y8O7NlF0fv/w400-h225/20220820_111845.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os antigos armazéns, vistos do rio</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ7cmTKLFe2lmA2srw_PSNqyWeAudbs5eraIE77qMqqCcgmEXvUTOjtgC5rkVrHbZ8hRQ89HT5fMyaAL_gj942nkCJvSf2_Fu_AmcFuyKdXYR50DBLP66ytLN5tFNzxx6dfBjfY7z6hCUdzqMTTw95FzjiCMz0aVWba_-jmwP61J9QiZ7X55I7bOQJ/s4000/20220820_113021.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQ7cmTKLFe2lmA2srw_PSNqyWeAudbs5eraIE77qMqqCcgmEXvUTOjtgC5rkVrHbZ8hRQ89HT5fMyaAL_gj942nkCJvSf2_Fu_AmcFuyKdXYR50DBLP66ytLN5tFNzxx6dfBjfY7z6hCUdzqMTTw95FzjiCMz0aVWba_-jmwP61J9QiZ7X55I7bOQJ/w400-h225/20220820_113021.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Na mesma zona, entre o Elba e o Alster, ergue-se o edifício
cultural mais querido dos hamburgueses, a Elbphilarmonie, o moderníssimo
edifício que alberga a Orquestra Filarmónica do Elba.</span><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCInzZuct9hn5TtynmUq7V8FvKSS4d_cVnGfLRMLQJNt6lEwFiDqKgr98hop9L5Yop3uYxd6QSM2xSQ7WhCOba7zBnHuk3c2HeJKrAURIzESw6Zlbst-PlWvRBthqCnjlsA8sPs_pk5Z2qVqrAsel7ZOaBIvBm9or1a-ub1_7hPBeQZpoZsAxOcDPn/s4000/20220820_115552.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCInzZuct9hn5TtynmUq7V8FvKSS4d_cVnGfLRMLQJNt6lEwFiDqKgr98hop9L5Yop3uYxd6QSM2xSQ7WhCOba7zBnHuk3c2HeJKrAURIzESw6Zlbst-PlWvRBthqCnjlsA8sPs_pk5Z2qVqrAsel7ZOaBIvBm9or1a-ub1_7hPBeQZpoZsAxOcDPn/w400-h225/20220820_115552.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">A Elbphilarmonie, duas perspetivas</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBGIfLKfnJinIX98Ul7V8Cj96ypPDSkYQJR0fVXmUtWN0boUtp43t20-38PHH2lh6A0ug3CLaVbJy-vEVbm-gk086n2bwJg5J5ZX4NVAraySIm_FpQO91MjswQo-J_KdGWsCpqaNLE_tJ5ZIYKOP4fulSOQU1w6EBywUVTti_ONC9H32IWFzUXyJo/s3313/20220807_182852.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2006" data-original-width="3313" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYBGIfLKfnJinIX98Ul7V8Cj96ypPDSkYQJR0fVXmUtWN0boUtp43t20-38PHH2lh6A0ug3CLaVbJy-vEVbm-gk086n2bwJg5J5ZX4NVAraySIm_FpQO91MjswQo-J_KdGWsCpqaNLE_tJ5ZIYKOP4fulSOQU1w6EBywUVTti_ONC9H32IWFzUXyJo/w400-h243/20220807_182852.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">O rio é o coração e as artérias da cidade, tudo para ali
conflui. O movimento do porto comercial mistura-se com as milhentas embarcações
de recreio. Há barcos de todos os tamanhos e feitios, mas tudo parece conviver
em harmonia. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmr7cLIr5886fWSe_lIfU-1CalN0xyiojU04XbPGtl4S8efNuzjNRQpHAvdJdZYdDGCkGpfbGv-gLfNDq3i7humW4ac_Q0W3SObQla8PFGHHJQsqcpSoMLDqrp1Wm_kfQumrfHFXUPGbAqHwnwr3nlXpTZda3ebp8cgsfV8Q2p1ls71faMyIltCqQM/s4000/20220807_181318.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmr7cLIr5886fWSe_lIfU-1CalN0xyiojU04XbPGtl4S8efNuzjNRQpHAvdJdZYdDGCkGpfbGv-gLfNDq3i7humW4ac_Q0W3SObQla8PFGHHJQsqcpSoMLDqrp1Wm_kfQumrfHFXUPGbAqHwnwr3nlXpTZda3ebp8cgsfV8Q2p1ls71faMyIltCqQM/w400-h225/20220807_181318.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As margens do rio, com um U-Boot à esquerda</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZkUjAoS0D_3sdj-ZS_mXJDpKYKgXkMjPgxPgfYpgRCsnIhYvSPxZST0x3pm4KZWv14XTgeW-D2_JuacbaqF0WX9CHKBhjwfv6yICEzQZVsnADftMSzA26Y7sLEPXIETZYnV_MT0vPJs6Jvi6Y0VqX5z_qQKa3Y1ewE-MiVnSCuCXmdC8VLRj8jr4Q/s4000/20220807_190428.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZkUjAoS0D_3sdj-ZS_mXJDpKYKgXkMjPgxPgfYpgRCsnIhYvSPxZST0x3pm4KZWv14XTgeW-D2_JuacbaqF0WX9CHKBhjwfv6yICEzQZVsnADftMSzA26Y7sLEPXIETZYnV_MT0vPJs6Jvi6Y0VqX5z_qQKa3Y1ewE-MiVnSCuCXmdC8VLRj8jr4Q/w400-h225/20220807_190428.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Um barco-bombeiro, no meio dos barcos de recreio</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Por puro acaso, como tantas vezes acontece nas nossas viagens,
apanhámos uma enorme festa que decorre anualmente ao longo do porto: o Dia dos
Cruzeiros, “Cruise Day”. Há animação e viagens pelo porto durante todo o dia e
milhares de pessoas juntam-se junto à agua, para comer e beber ou simplesmente
apreciar o movimento. Mas o ponto alto da festa acontece à noite. Os grandes
barcos de cruzeiro oferecem um espetáculo de cor e fogo de artífício à cidade.
Devido às restrições ambientais, o fogo de artifício foi substituído por fogo
preso produzido por... drones! Modernices... interessantes!</span><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDyUdAFHjLsfYmuBmwQOMuA5LReeRwYho_sUJWcodNO1X45JRBzfIErlX7c1kpN3Yv28hCgNQMJLNyTROcJcBpiIN3YKQaxi6PMAWS0dzbRmw0kBBZ-rINgjoxDMWkMPFDgvzBdGooyq5b1bEMPM9ECigrARgyhyCBLNSu-k4XwvthuJJc_8Fj0Yb5/s4000/20220820_225753.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDyUdAFHjLsfYmuBmwQOMuA5LReeRwYho_sUJWcodNO1X45JRBzfIErlX7c1kpN3Yv28hCgNQMJLNyTROcJcBpiIN3YKQaxi6PMAWS0dzbRmw0kBBZ-rINgjoxDMWkMPFDgvzBdGooyq5b1bEMPM9ECigrARgyhyCBLNSu-k4XwvthuJJc_8Fj0Yb5/w400-h225/20220820_225753.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Espetáculo do <i>Cruise Day</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Mas o que mais guardo desse dia é o jantar no bairro
português. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>A comunidade portuguesa em
Hamburgo é muito antiga, data do século XVI. Mas alargou-se imenso no século
XX, com o movimento de emigração dos anos 60 e 70, principalmente. O bairro
português ocupa um par de ruas, junto ao porto, e ali surgiram muitos
restaurantes portugueses e <i>winebars. </i>Não falta o peixe grelhado nem o
pastel de nata... os restaurantes têm todos nomes portugueses, os empregados
são portugueses, em alguns sítios pode-se ouvir o fado.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Já nos tinham dito que ali se comia bem, o
que não é de admirar, a gastronomia portuguesa dá cartas em qualquer latitude.
Mas não antecipava a emoção que se apodera de nós quando, depois de quinze dias
a ouvir falar em alemão, inglês, dinamarquês, entramos num restaurante chamado
“Olá Lisboa!”, somos recebidos calorosamente em português, bebemos um vinho
verde do produtor, seguido de um Porto como digestivo... Raio da alma lusitana,
que não nos dá tréguas!...</span><span style="line-height: 107%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJz5GyS1eCHGDwVZ7mOiAm5mshSO8yYQ9GxWlhqRA6ciSaR9x__rEtgWkoCpYc3v7x1Bwk1g3bdDaiMXGfqY-iY1JICYZwldPn44_84Soc2gLkc7XdgfwKqov7WfCimIsSChuI5VtMQffZB98D8WLNtu-U7WJPsxz3Hgxd4ZTscKmKMfoj85QUVnwe/s4000/20220820_195823.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJz5GyS1eCHGDwVZ7mOiAm5mshSO8yYQ9GxWlhqRA6ciSaR9x__rEtgWkoCpYc3v7x1Bwk1g3bdDaiMXGfqY-iY1JICYZwldPn44_84Soc2gLkc7XdgfwKqov7WfCimIsSChuI5VtMQffZB98D8WLNtu-U7WJPsxz3Hgxd4ZTscKmKMfoj85QUVnwe/w400-h225/20220820_195823.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No restaurante <i>Olá Lisboa!</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><br /><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-25979553142296598892022-09-18T11:07:00.003+01:002022-11-27T18:59:59.087+00:00As cidades hanseáticas do norte da Alemanha<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIUr_4F3XLoG6n-BZxfVZ21jqmzP80Xznvj56fvixvB_9eUXw1CbhK0zVHqku_ZbBBUuZiSOTMKkInmOWTTgKjwnoHvzCJSyht8xcKqpCwPvzR2EY_JqA3CKyh0Suu5lf04HWzCXNJ8PWagTtaLahhwZ32yN0XEmO_tBnduvytVXvviRTQwcneJcB/s4000/20220808_201609.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKIUr_4F3XLoG6n-BZxfVZ21jqmzP80Xznvj56fvixvB_9eUXw1CbhK0zVHqku_ZbBBUuZiSOTMKkInmOWTTgKjwnoHvzCJSyht8xcKqpCwPvzR2EY_JqA3CKyh0Suu5lf04HWzCXNJ8PWagTtaLahhwZ32yN0XEmO_tBnduvytVXvviRTQwcneJcB/w400-h225/20220808_201609.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Praça Central de Lübeck</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A
Liga Hanseática, também denominada Hansa Teutónica, foi uma aliança económica
entre cidades mercantis do norte da Europa, entre o Mar do Norte e o mar
Báltico. Era uma associação livre e com grande autonomia política. Foi fundada
em meados do século XII, na cidade de <span style="background: white;">Lübeck</span>, a que se juntaram outras cidades do norte da atual
Alemanha, como Hamburgo, Flensburg, Bremen, Wismar, Rostock, Stralsund. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7W44Fm9YRyovZa5LCbFFBsWKQWHpRdiA8L82hqAH0w-x2vE7E6UICLT-4ibFwdbxLub_nZQ7p-aUCW_1h6oC2wAzjMvmqNzObKvy1K9ACXeTuOLGHe8efeKX_LRkZLwMNS15OrfF3YAwlqM2N-jscT4LeVcCCMpcd-bx4kKKcYLwB11TKCQoEuTrR/s4000/20220818_153030.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7W44Fm9YRyovZa5LCbFFBsWKQWHpRdiA8L82hqAH0w-x2vE7E6UICLT-4ibFwdbxLub_nZQ7p-aUCW_1h6oC2wAzjMvmqNzObKvy1K9ACXeTuOLGHe8efeKX_LRkZLwMNS15OrfF3YAwlqM2N-jscT4LeVcCCMpcd-bx4kKKcYLwB11TKCQoEuTrR/w400-h225/20220818_153030.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O porto de Flensburg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3dBZWDyNICaRa_EcexU_esixlGEgef5LDAV0aA_pMaGrVuK6MLDYVpyfx36kBdC7dAqFt0-zGN6UHTRvTZYH9AyvZt0Df_G0FupZKru_bC3I6kaBwT-ly42U96q97bagwcCG6f-La8o8ZteLwirhh_E5LCe7N0YUxnlnzosWGV9pnVqV8061rDDc/s4000/20220818_152205.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhb3dBZWDyNICaRa_EcexU_esixlGEgef5LDAV0aA_pMaGrVuK6MLDYVpyfx36kBdC7dAqFt0-zGN6UHTRvTZYH9AyvZt0Df_G0FupZKru_bC3I6kaBwT-ly42U96q97bagwcCG6f-La8o8ZteLwirhh_E5LCe7N0YUxnlnzosWGV9pnVqV8061rDDc/w225-h400/20220818_152205.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Velhas ruas descem para o porto de Flensburgo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A Hansa
era poderosa e criou uma rede de cidades com contrato de associação, que ia de
Londres a Bergen na Noruega, ou Novgorod, na Rússia. No século XVII, os
interesses políticos levaram ao seu enfraquecimento, sendo estas cidades livres
integradas nos estados europeus. O que restou desse poderio comercial, dessa
prosperidade? Sempre tive vontade de visitar algumas dessas cidades hanseáticas
e procurar as marcas desse tempo histórico. Calhou este ano...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13hGNuRIFQpmoP4voQpkANPp2ozY5gamsNs5S9C2VF9X0FHfatTRuFWhxjJysN6HZzPMYVXMF24zvP2u0EXzMc9SAVgbmZHenrbberfLXmjqQNhyrV5DNkdw0A9AJXYn_P71HqTxlwtOpMFPLSJN9qinJ3W7mx99qoTKr6Ui6wCaZE0MmW4rz-f_T/s3676/20220808_205057.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3676" data-original-width="2249" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh13hGNuRIFQpmoP4voQpkANPp2ozY5gamsNs5S9C2VF9X0FHfatTRuFWhxjJysN6HZzPMYVXMF24zvP2u0EXzMc9SAVgbmZHenrbberfLXmjqQNhyrV5DNkdw0A9AJXYn_P71HqTxlwtOpMFPLSJN9qinJ3W7mx99qoTKr6Ui6wCaZE0MmW4rz-f_T/w245-h400/20220808_205057.jpg" width="245" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Guilda dos Navegantes em Lübeck</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFE0TttF6zZZGn83DBkJcGTJ9WQbEs5CtQZJW8hA-tPtmV1SV7tE6sTUiBFnJDBvUnBWfkBP8FyeURZyBhXOcWoi5Po_oAFF4kE5Ecy08Rq3gJd12Z6sgJkcekBSyd-WrnCkhGopI0nrd14jBVgNRM_B3PO_IfTei4ok7-AmDa7HfmRuF2fpRXt0w/s4000/20220818_193250.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgHFE0TttF6zZZGn83DBkJcGTJ9WQbEs5CtQZJW8hA-tPtmV1SV7tE6sTUiBFnJDBvUnBWfkBP8FyeURZyBhXOcWoi5Po_oAFF4kE5Ecy08Rq3gJd12Z6sgJkcekBSyd-WrnCkhGopI0nrd14jBVgNRM_B3PO_IfTei4ok7-AmDa7HfmRuF2fpRXt0w/w400-h225/20220818_193250.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Réplica de um <i>kogge</i>, um barco mercantil da Liga Hanseática, no porto de Kiel<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;">Dessa
rede de cidades mercantis, a mais importante é hoje Hamburgo, que ainda se
qualifica a si mesma como “cidade hanseática”. Mas foi em </span><span style="background: white; color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;">Lübeck</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"> que tudo começou e é
talvez a cidade onde as marcas dessa época de ouro se mantiveram mais vivas.</span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6-r7h10CV0C2G_EADZ7yqiWXjg2Gl0Q2Ql7qBvYVF_FKu6kONnrQ6z3zayYJ5IsNay2CtJ39GaDZb0kQ3KCMu2mr59H6IJl1qIjIp0YfEbF0jn5CTjQB2ia2Mhwwpsh70jfzKuZcogcPWfagSViCCBlxVDkyC0YZnGcJcoeYGZC1KUZuZVtWbYxl/s4000/20220808_180805.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgp6-r7h10CV0C2G_EADZ7yqiWXjg2Gl0Q2Ql7qBvYVF_FKu6kONnrQ6z3zayYJ5IsNay2CtJ39GaDZb0kQ3KCMu2mr59H6IJl1qIjIp0YfEbF0jn5CTjQB2ia2Mhwwpsh70jfzKuZcogcPWfagSViCCBlxVDkyC0YZnGcJcoeYGZC1KUZuZVtWbYxl/w400-h225/20220808_180805.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O rio Trave</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hwdI9wQeaW5tji4g209Jsk-IxYgwlmW2rZDltvgS2LMFbL1YCdzrGsi46JlODhrWw3dzuZINqQpjpP-GvJpcaGosN8_e3CsWoHMApXDVCinOpBd5OH6T1ZrWgvzFXxLNaosAdyWVaeFlCeu6hhn_XR7zWhB8Us8V8-92XMwdon9wVbV4CyAmK4zW/s4000/20220808_173619.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-hwdI9wQeaW5tji4g209Jsk-IxYgwlmW2rZDltvgS2LMFbL1YCdzrGsi46JlODhrWw3dzuZINqQpjpP-GvJpcaGosN8_e3CsWoHMApXDVCinOpBd5OH6T1ZrWgvzFXxLNaosAdyWVaeFlCeu6hhn_XR7zWhB8Us8V8-92XMwdon9wVbV4CyAmK4zW/w400-h225/20220808_173619.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O centro histórico de Lübeck</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="background: white; line-height: 107%;">Lübeck</span><span style="line-height: 107%;">
surgiu numa ilha, rodeada pelo rio Trave, o que, sem dúvida, lhe dava vantagens
em termos de comércio e de defesa. O centro histórico, a Altstadt, é quase
totalmente pedonal e podemos perder-nos nas suas ruelas estreitas, rodeadas de
velhas casas de tijolo vermelho, num ambiente que manteve um cunho medieval.
Foi esse ambiente medieval bem preservado que levou <span style="background: white;">Lübeck</span> a ser a primeira cidade do norte da Europa a
entrar na lista do Património Mundial da UNESCO, em 1987. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudThXUAAm8rV-_UbjYznVyS397b03fk54SoXyq8d0hAJRxvXsbN4PohEEleY1Iyt60ZVtzhtnwGPATpJ_DytjrPt6eqPXHuenpHh0aU04c9O7FyJIkr8ptN5T7O8g1UxfQ4Lb2OyrTIsXfg75pQrqS2Jy3tD7tMfErEykodvJMr54MnN-Rol4Qcr_/s3064/20220808_174048.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3064" data-original-width="2188" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiudThXUAAm8rV-_UbjYznVyS397b03fk54SoXyq8d0hAJRxvXsbN4PohEEleY1Iyt60ZVtzhtnwGPATpJ_DytjrPt6eqPXHuenpHh0aU04c9O7FyJIkr8ptN5T7O8g1UxfQ4Lb2OyrTIsXfg75pQrqS2Jy3tD7tMfErEykodvJMr54MnN-Rol4Qcr_/w286-h400/20220808_174048.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das portas de entrada </span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUmYplgSdz3G5Z1911TzPED0jpDGsOyMHhTu-AYOilRUs5JPrYzOz4SV4yd71mDGVmGkuaFO_6KhYdz4f1eXgpF7Gr1m4EievdKz_y10SqQ0Br7KzJvPcsFVjtfUWvAaFdrER2lpCUuImlMF2PGzfkoOgoBNjRli6iEqS2L3GIDcVUebzJo_T9u8p/s4000/20220808_173918.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifUmYplgSdz3G5Z1911TzPED0jpDGsOyMHhTu-AYOilRUs5JPrYzOz4SV4yd71mDGVmGkuaFO_6KhYdz4f1eXgpF7Gr1m4EievdKz_y10SqQ0Br7KzJvPcsFVjtfUWvAaFdrER2lpCUuImlMF2PGzfkoOgoBNjRli6iEqS2L3GIDcVUebzJo_T9u8p/w400-h225/20220808_173918.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Detalhes dos edifícios de tijolo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHvIx8PQIigo3ld4eu-3qPnjs71gBpcqkHNBlIgd2xAULYaM2ZvzFySpMV9oA8LcNBTlM48Q65ETt4aHvkM1fn4ioPF3k5th2VG9TydECv9h00Oz6tnEEwCO-3RDKyvTZPH0j7hy5hUguIuVMxqUHB_-DvTrqRs8e5qoX5MVaDGvtmE4UiobNxUh5/s3151/20220808_174837.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3151" data-original-width="2249" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFHvIx8PQIigo3ld4eu-3qPnjs71gBpcqkHNBlIgd2xAULYaM2ZvzFySpMV9oA8LcNBTlM48Q65ETt4aHvkM1fn4ioPF3k5th2VG9TydECv9h00Oz6tnEEwCO-3RDKyvTZPH0j7hy5hUguIuVMxqUHB_-DvTrqRs8e5qoX5MVaDGvtmE4UiobNxUh5/w285-h400/20220808_174837.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">Junto à porta de entrada na cidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O
símbolo da cidade é a Holstentor, do século XV. É a mais importante das portas
de entrada na cidade e a mais conhecida. É bela e imponente, mas as outras
portas não lhe ficam muito atrás... Hoje, já não recebe os comerciantes que
chegam pelo rio, mas essas histórias ainda estão presentes no Museu Holstentor,
que fica nas suas torres.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg82494-8L8GqcypYoSXsECa0VkEG4SyrinG0lk6QsrmwUv6qJtiefxUYT7j1vVqAbRFY5ZeWATTS8N5zymTGZfu076Ztpbf1pG9bGYnckkOGGEwHg05wKOuCMzqgV7VBPDS0ONdV6U0RHtlHiiapwQ9cgsr8SbdvRA7ZJUxssTHM2MEbLMau7IRyoh/s4000/20220808_182413.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg82494-8L8GqcypYoSXsECa0VkEG4SyrinG0lk6QsrmwUv6qJtiefxUYT7j1vVqAbRFY5ZeWATTS8N5zymTGZfu076Ztpbf1pG9bGYnckkOGGEwHg05wKOuCMzqgV7VBPDS0ONdV6U0RHtlHiiapwQ9cgsr8SbdvRA7ZJUxssTHM2MEbLMau7IRyoh/w400-h225/20220808_182413.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A bela Porta de Holstentor</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBp3kYRm6yv6s_WbnZ-5dusHko6M2NbSUleFB2EDKyBmK0TIW5DR5DwWR7oHId6UqohOVvW9jmIpuTDOa-wY9q6AFBSoMAwauSnrdYblIdVWOctNAY48DzJA7Jqp0zJQHG01NJHnNjqs0YdH5LfOhH_GrhjWANzup0U-kNwn1SSkryQVHQG3iOBbNq/s4000/20220808_182119.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhBp3kYRm6yv6s_WbnZ-5dusHko6M2NbSUleFB2EDKyBmK0TIW5DR5DwWR7oHId6UqohOVvW9jmIpuTDOa-wY9q6AFBSoMAwauSnrdYblIdVWOctNAY48DzJA7Jqp0zJQHG01NJHnNjqs0YdH5LfOhH_GrhjWANzup0U-kNwn1SSkryQVHQG3iOBbNq/w400-h225/20220808_182119.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Outra perspetiva da Porta de Holstentor</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A
memória histórica mistura-se com a pujança económica e cultural, que subsiste
até aos dias de hoje. Os velhos armazéns comerciais ainda bordejam o rio,
alternando com esplanadas. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QURJQXHaqiRi141vHTq0j53YO8hHR2CE-XvD-LryLj7sj46TIjBo2mYPDt4e6RqylvQAcVsu00ag0q2WgEUYdPiCzs_vYHuRIjjmNge1twMOr8a5AcAfXobvPKhuC2NFEdEGS6UnOfOPyhsP0VAxUpSdvxwzihgqpyRQmPQG-KZQKLtatd3-VH_8/s3264/20220808_200340.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj0QURJQXHaqiRi141vHTq0j53YO8hHR2CE-XvD-LryLj7sj46TIjBo2mYPDt4e6RqylvQAcVsu00ag0q2WgEUYdPiCzs_vYHuRIjjmNge1twMOr8a5AcAfXobvPKhuC2NFEdEGS6UnOfOPyhsP0VAxUpSdvxwzihgqpyRQmPQG-KZQKLtatd3-VH_8/w400-h225/20220808_200340.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os armazéns hanseáticos nas margens do rio Trave</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A Câmara Municipal é a mais antiga da Alemanha e eu
diria que das mais bonitas, encastoada como uma jóia entre os velhos edifícios
da praça principal. </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O Hospital do Espírito Santo funcionou ininterruptamente
desde o século XIII até aos anos 60 do século XX, sempre dirigido e financiado
pela cidade.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zonLadlWJEOyL4yPcj_d5YZLZM6QutDhOGbYMjdqIXzB8OkKfgqpaEqXSURm4CLL9-s1GhXnNPnrsrNJBojEWaP54qjfZYxuBjHBt6tayWqnl7X0AXldOi12C9f6914k-nrXR8R19g5XZavqiHk_O3PI1pepN0Da5yOKDFi_M5FcsTWTd8NGujZq/s4000/20220808_202510.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-zonLadlWJEOyL4yPcj_d5YZLZM6QutDhOGbYMjdqIXzB8OkKfgqpaEqXSURm4CLL9-s1GhXnNPnrsrNJBojEWaP54qjfZYxuBjHBt6tayWqnl7X0AXldOi12C9f6914k-nrXR8R19g5XZavqiHk_O3PI1pepN0Da5yOKDFi_M5FcsTWTd8NGujZq/w225-h400/20220808_202510.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das belas janelas da Câmara Municipal</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQ0yKs2wQ-0Ru7YnrYr5tCR3y-dsEIxn1af_NzTAT3bB88wiUiE3iRLgr_OkddBRjfpbHyuvQblQ_YW7LyqrQ5to0PC64narVvaBUh7wvbt-UgUNtOw4G2eoYZXFReucwrZXyIbgLQ0WDSQ11UQ1DJiCelWfyntO98AtCXB5qMsqpQxb5SdHTzDYr/s3625/20220808_205450.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3625" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwQ0yKs2wQ-0Ru7YnrYr5tCR3y-dsEIxn1af_NzTAT3bB88wiUiE3iRLgr_OkddBRjfpbHyuvQblQ_YW7LyqrQ5to0PC64narVvaBUh7wvbt-UgUNtOw4G2eoYZXFReucwrZXyIbgLQ0WDSQ11UQ1DJiCelWfyntO98AtCXB5qMsqpQxb5SdHTzDYr/w249-h400/20220808_205450.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A fachada do Hospital do Espírito Santo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas
a cultura acompanhou sempre o poder económico. Ali nasceu e viveu Thomas Mann,
mas também Gunther Grass e Willy Brandt. A cultura popular e erudita cruzam-se:
a tradição das Marionetas mantém-se no Museu da Marioneta e ainda hoje se representam
clássicos num teatro de marionetas!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJU4NnoxJ_DjYyTHtKWZbA_Gr0WXW_TsbTvwqE6Zi7Ck_FXp9AHWZgQg0-B6HbK1HGw2zJJ5pE11KGCk83yYCykjafWPG3lWXRJMwTVnn7bEZ_gJ4LSXKWe318s9e16uadTAM_iu50Wnx-X-JPN7WYH2b_Fg0xc6GgWkMRcVjOIEseZw1huZN4bi9b/s4000/20220808_200936.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJU4NnoxJ_DjYyTHtKWZbA_Gr0WXW_TsbTvwqE6Zi7Ck_FXp9AHWZgQg0-B6HbK1HGw2zJJ5pE11KGCk83yYCykjafWPG3lWXRJMwTVnn7bEZ_gJ4LSXKWe318s9e16uadTAM_iu50Wnx-X-JPN7WYH2b_Fg0xc6GgWkMRcVjOIEseZw1huZN4bi9b/w225-h400/20220808_200936.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Teatro de Marionetas, representado num carro que replica as velhas carroças</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Deixamos
<span style="background: white;">Lübeck</span> e a sua paisagem
urbana marcada pelas torres esguias das igrejas: St. Marien, St. Petri, St.
Jacobi. No nosso hotel encontramos um jovem casal de motociclistas. Vêm de
Itália, dirigem-se ao Cabo Norte com o objetivo de aí preparar e beber um café
Moka. Desejamos uns aos outros boa viagem. Nós continuamos à descoberta de
outras cidades da Liga Hanseática.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJL-HsNhoBkkn2OpFZTpO4FGlxAASa-akXxxm88Zjz-ovxOL03cdUNbuR4J-cluoz4rcOJskLwpR2DuG4oPghupVg1cmzx5Qghff2IHtQUwYIvtBaK_d5Cj8XpriVJvdZ0SAXgsqOtBzBam5eo3tJsQnmbJ8a2zgt0tiX-RP6Cm7q3EjUFpQRFaKLk/s4000/20220809_175743.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiJL-HsNhoBkkn2OpFZTpO4FGlxAASa-akXxxm88Zjz-ovxOL03cdUNbuR4J-cluoz4rcOJskLwpR2DuG4oPghupVg1cmzx5Qghff2IHtQUwYIvtBaK_d5Cj8XpriVJvdZ0SAXgsqOtBzBam5eo3tJsQnmbJ8a2zgt0tiX-RP6Cm7q3EjUFpQRFaKLk/w400-h225/20220809_175743.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O porto velho de Wismar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Continuamos
para leste, na direção de Wismar. Sem nos apercebermos, cruzamos uma linha
invisível, a antiga fronteira entre a República Federal da Alemanha e a
República Democrática Alemã, entre o sistema capitalista e o sistema comunista,
que aqui vigorou entre o final da 2.ª Guerra Mundial e 1990, data da
reunificação alemã, após a queda do muro de Berlim. Era a “cortina de ferro”, a
separação e o confronto entre dois mundos e duas conceções de vida.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis8vX7YCvubLYOLwrxlTq74vZ8LrzH4YMNerfvKk4w4IOg8-y8tvYjDP-2xJC5Ke5KjRuIWzu_GU9l7Zyci5_lQzAGolsxhwcjpVSxHuCDbv39RF86eZmeCyeYB4VVPUg_T6-BAbnR4-6Y4YMhnRZOxMA-lV8mk7tMyl-EFxGrCor6Yhbda8JptVKA/s4000/20220809_172210.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEis8vX7YCvubLYOLwrxlTq74vZ8LrzH4YMNerfvKk4w4IOg8-y8tvYjDP-2xJC5Ke5KjRuIWzu_GU9l7Zyci5_lQzAGolsxhwcjpVSxHuCDbv39RF86eZmeCyeYB4VVPUg_T6-BAbnR4-6Y4YMhnRZOxMA-lV8mk7tMyl-EFxGrCor6Yhbda8JptVKA/w400-h225/20220809_172210.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Antigos palacetes relembram a época de prosperidade de Wismar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrjOmmA2qfd7p9aaIJ_XqY3dvYAQd1Gt1uYus0DuOu2ySlI7NYvuRiFluCl7YWKDNEJHVv3_umB8XrCzpJWf9sCtJKAJ_OBPZZc9RkCkFtYVSBvWHKxNl7aU15JmsKuHUDpN89nKsQxOK7sQi7Y3e6D2Jhd2hOv0FarmvImLnXOPL4_q-HTqoFqM3/s4000/20220809_172322.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqrjOmmA2qfd7p9aaIJ_XqY3dvYAQd1Gt1uYus0DuOu2ySlI7NYvuRiFluCl7YWKDNEJHVv3_umB8XrCzpJWf9sCtJKAJ_OBPZZc9RkCkFtYVSBvWHKxNl7aU15JmsKuHUDpN89nKsQxOK7sQi7Y3e6D2Jhd2hOv0FarmvImLnXOPL4_q-HTqoFqM3/w400-h225/20220809_172322.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Depois
do dinamismo de <span style="background: white;">Lübeck</span>,
deteta-se aqui alguma estagnação, que os habitantes tentam ultrapassar. Wismar
parece uma cidade que ficou parada no tempo. Bombardeada na guerra, cinzenta e
arruinada, foi reconstruída e reabilitada após a reunificação alemã, com o patrocínio
da UNESCO. A torre da igreja de Sta. Maria é bem a imagem dessa destruição:
ergue-se solitária, o resto da igreja foi destruído e está agora patente
através da delimitação da enorme área da igreja. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbn-KqTpMO7HfcE71nr9N94H5uh2QCKgNirs-IffoF1kX666HOVS3E44GuFzBE0oTREMeWqtUr1ndr9VqLLAYXgWPh1KvHorNkOxK9qY117AJlnBfydPj_Yy-XLZWJa8M6yBg4zZ4v6l_LDXanvjewxEzd5Nnys0FIDE_eq2iGPlhgp_K-q_dRirX/s4000/20220809_170447.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRbn-KqTpMO7HfcE71nr9N94H5uh2QCKgNirs-IffoF1kX666HOVS3E44GuFzBE0oTREMeWqtUr1ndr9VqLLAYXgWPh1KvHorNkOxK9qY117AJlnBfydPj_Yy-XLZWJa8M6yBg4zZ4v6l_LDXanvjewxEzd5Nnys0FIDE_eq2iGPlhgp_K-q_dRirX/w225-h400/20220809_170447.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O que restou da igreja de Sta. Maria</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk2lsak4SwpRj7GqruKj5SN0qXYLSeAerIRev5eAsuEfFT4xW7NMPXdbsBco7jxn8Tl1sPyau3n3E7PXSzjpSM5nr93T2A-bfnh1qH9dhP34HnHE-IWQTiNO9QfiAm1iS1NEQhlakeV9y261dTJidRlwd7RpTWWctl0HQ39bk866jNMqN7Vehl2Uh/s4000/20220809_162052.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwk2lsak4SwpRj7GqruKj5SN0qXYLSeAerIRev5eAsuEfFT4xW7NMPXdbsBco7jxn8Tl1sPyau3n3E7PXSzjpSM5nr93T2A-bfnh1qH9dhP34HnHE-IWQTiNO9QfiAm1iS1NEQhlakeV9y261dTJidRlwd7RpTWWctl0HQ39bk866jNMqN7Vehl2Uh/w400-h225/20220809_162052.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma rua no centro de Wismar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O centro é muito interessante,
com quarteirões inteiros de prédios com os seus telhados e frontarias tipicamente
hanseáticos. A praça principal ostenta uma bela fonte, encomendada aos
holandeses no século XVII, símbolo da sua prosperidade perdida.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw8dUhrQqOr91_X1li7Y6oZ28pgaBXBCy9sQz8oHkEU_f7gIFg5miNKqkts8YpHaZgGLXA39SNxTl8GSrPmg6EemLmdyqo8UgkeEjnFRgBa9TM1vKorDKkvXz8E14zeLqJ3ZNMme5-FPFsEggjGN5RM7RZ8TzXNZVjVMlRVKuw50NxDZiZFCpPZJdy/s4000/20220809_164048.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiw8dUhrQqOr91_X1li7Y6oZ28pgaBXBCy9sQz8oHkEU_f7gIFg5miNKqkts8YpHaZgGLXA39SNxTl8GSrPmg6EemLmdyqo8UgkeEjnFRgBa9TM1vKorDKkvXz8E14zeLqJ3ZNMme5-FPFsEggjGN5RM7RZ8TzXNZVjVMlRVKuw50NxDZiZFCpPZJdy/w400-h225/20220809_164048.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O fontanário do século XVII</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTC-1tyiOWROOD0Cmtpg84ceeVLdHBMlOeVGAXeSqabAfnbh0rMx0L7gtAkJH4SATP9FdBL3xKVAanKYKwWTGE6aweb9YS-GO24Ou2jM15CfQuOW_EpLXRsbUEYumClG39vOj2Da8HnT0VY3FxISysJg-IegQJcP0Q9nASvRHAlJSV_nq2cDI9xGtg/s4000/20220809_164620.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhTC-1tyiOWROOD0Cmtpg84ceeVLdHBMlOeVGAXeSqabAfnbh0rMx0L7gtAkJH4SATP9FdBL3xKVAanKYKwWTGE6aweb9YS-GO24Ou2jM15CfQuOW_EpLXRsbUEYumClG39vOj2Da8HnT0VY3FxISysJg-IegQJcP0Q9nASvRHAlJSV_nq2cDI9xGtg/w225-h400/20220809_164620.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A água da fonte jorrava por estas figuras híbridas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Jantámos
nessa praça, no restaurante Reuterhaus, de decoração formal e antiquada.
Podíamos ali filmar um filme de época, passado nos anos 30 ou 40 do século
passado. A comida, no entanto, era excelente. A principal dificuldade foi
comunicar com as empregadas, que não falavam inglês, mas eram esforçadas e desejosas
de agradar e deixar uma boa impressão da sua cidade que, como dizia uma delas,
tinha uma “deep story”! No nosso hotel, o mesmo ar de luxo <i>demodé </i>mas
ainda digno. Mas no velho porto, há muita vida, entre barcos de recreio,
daqueles onde se pode embarcar para dar uma volta pela zona ribeirinha, e
barcos de pesca, alguns dos quais, já atracados, vendem peixe preparado e
cozinhado, como os típicos “Fischbrötchen”.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCN7SZ9FB_tu7b-jVSlMBGDFVALn6fTiI-h2M924lHG6RU3kXDnCxtMCjvYynmF2CuVzCvxcPXdEeEeioKLSRU-sco8ZJXC5xGtk7dvaCJfF6xlySS21uk7eD1c7O8p75f2NlvAaSkTQd58iN0fezKYN2LJ5reHItQCa-_OvYiAfg7zZChyfNNe5VL/s4000/20220809_174422.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjCN7SZ9FB_tu7b-jVSlMBGDFVALn6fTiI-h2M924lHG6RU3kXDnCxtMCjvYynmF2CuVzCvxcPXdEeEeioKLSRU-sco8ZJXC5xGtk7dvaCJfF6xlySS21uk7eD1c7O8p75f2NlvAaSkTQd58iN0fezKYN2LJ5reHItQCa-_OvYiAfg7zZChyfNNe5VL/w400-h225/20220809_174422.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os barcos de venda de <i>fischbrötchen</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Rumamos a Rostock, a terceira cidade
hanseática que tinhamos no nosso roteiro. Rostock é uma cidade animada, que se
desenvolveu graças à proximidade das praias, algumas delas grandes estancias balneares, como <span style="background-color: white; text-align: left;">Warnemünde</span>. O porto, onde chegam e partem <i>ferryboats </i>para
toda a Escandinávia, garante a passagem de muita gente variada e o
desenvolvimento económico. Também nós, amanhã, daí partiremos para a
Dinamarca. Mas Rostock também guarda marcas da vida hanseática, particularmente
as suas belas portas, guardadas pelos grifos que são o símbolo da cidade.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbp3Pawdeg8ZsuA2Uvg2pNEEvfkJc45qJiVkva9bnH4A19RWLG-Eb8c2WHCAM5dJBHHQukPvMN0MoIUSWfsoHm8CPpWHh1InlA58aht47oAq8_AOXzGJISTbduYNI6cnb27Bqrd-Lud9ZhS9bdoOQkdtadQMqHOoStS9sSxLZj2OTUIIIwmh0bk0uy/s3405/20220810_124943.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3405" data-original-width="2182" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbp3Pawdeg8ZsuA2Uvg2pNEEvfkJc45qJiVkva9bnH4A19RWLG-Eb8c2WHCAM5dJBHHQukPvMN0MoIUSWfsoHm8CPpWHh1InlA58aht47oAq8_AOXzGJISTbduYNI6cnb27Bqrd-Lud9ZhS9bdoOQkdtadQMqHOoStS9sSxLZj2OTUIIIwmh0bk0uy/w256-h400/20220810_124943.jpg" width="256" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A porta da cidade de Rostock</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 115%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7gbb3icBuKS2apA65l8wvVNOhQGjx1-FEdgCNwa-eJ9got-j5yYhdbxoCbdzZ1nzIoDlrtoyPFYS4adA4rJIJZbdAyXT2aKaCSflYb0DpKzD1JrnGRpMUTlCxwY8-4wY19KXZdUQlLdIs1cg9iL61b1aGIZnBWL6i-5N2LDlgeDmmysFrK1mbaIh/s4000/20220810_125751.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhI7gbb3icBuKS2apA65l8wvVNOhQGjx1-FEdgCNwa-eJ9got-j5yYhdbxoCbdzZ1nzIoDlrtoyPFYS4adA4rJIJZbdAyXT2aKaCSflYb0DpKzD1JrnGRpMUTlCxwY8-4wY19KXZdUQlLdIs1cg9iL61b1aGIZnBWL6i-5N2LDlgeDmmysFrK1mbaIh/w225-h400/20220810_125751.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Perspetiva interior da porta de entrada</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Almoçámos
no centro da cidade, junto da <i>Brunnen der Lebensfreude </i>ou Fonte da
Alegria de Viver. Que nome tão bem posto! As estátuas que ornamentam a fonte
mostram situações de bem-estar e alegria e as crianças que brincavam e se
refrescavam nos repuxos eram a demonstração prática dessa alegria de viver! Que
boa disposição para despedida das cidades hanseáticas!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGL0aS3axUc_tbK_bxqEiiI0PczTM1lfR5DWO7tT-zfVaBJ9jiaB2mYaBKilkLMnX4vC4-8_9xU53LD_EWKepKqrDB2aeMgxyJN3ts0bhCPW4s2Y6zeXES_izWAmHb1JPcPMcUJDyhg74NNOb8LWKyYpt60vhQFsyGXCEBEK9wOwvFGJWuS4WsyWKG/s4000/20220810_143212.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhGL0aS3axUc_tbK_bxqEiiI0PczTM1lfR5DWO7tT-zfVaBJ9jiaB2mYaBKilkLMnX4vC4-8_9xU53LD_EWKepKqrDB2aeMgxyJN3ts0bhCPW4s2Y6zeXES_izWAmHb1JPcPMcUJDyhg74NNOb8LWKyYpt60vhQFsyGXCEBEK9wOwvFGJWuS4WsyWKG/w400-h225/20220810_143212.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Fonte da Alegria de Viver</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Faltam
umas palavras sobre Hamburgo, a rainha das cidades hanseáticas, mas receio que
essas palavras sejam demasiado extensas. É melhor deixar Hamburgo para <a href="https://olharesviajantes.blogspot.com/2022/10/hamburgo-rainha-das-cidades-hanseaticas.html" target="_blank">outro post</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="margin-right: -7.15pt;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7a_US0JKUID-a0amnlDYXjMyuBOJgxh66EP6Gb1rm_BCnOGS4zVopCty4cJNVPdac_TaAglZoh8FOIci1YHAJveWFfaoXaPP3BxKGdtBq19dtI8nWpwgU-rYZXutIpx0Zaz0iSWEZre1tlTVs8L8ja-gkBcqm_R2qgA08PFJrAcvlAvn27mxNqxle/s4000/20220810_125615.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg7a_US0JKUID-a0amnlDYXjMyuBOJgxh66EP6Gb1rm_BCnOGS4zVopCty4cJNVPdac_TaAglZoh8FOIci1YHAJveWFfaoXaPP3BxKGdtBq19dtI8nWpwgU-rYZXutIpx0Zaz0iSWEZre1tlTVs8L8ja-gkBcqm_R2qgA08PFJrAcvlAvn27mxNqxle/w400-h225/20220810_125615.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O grifo, símbolo de Rostock</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><br /><p></p><div><br /></div>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-8331223779532314592022-06-19T17:27:00.000+01:002022-06-19T17:27:22.293+01:00A propósito da Gare de Lyon<p> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJW1qRuKRjom_s8PuY-QR9Lp_KJjqfxkAgWHAadhX4mOjhhHZSI72OtIJWIIgB4I54hFQ9FktugyeaN8GY-BDCxCY_sdlWDi25o9iL4bBfMPj-HzKJ28DCMPebCIB0gv1OHtZ_lydG-MOXRV2trEtNqTxyvsbONIv02xBM_ysAvNtZ1_jUVE8m0HdC/s3713/20220520_153520.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1955" data-original-width="3713" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJW1qRuKRjom_s8PuY-QR9Lp_KJjqfxkAgWHAadhX4mOjhhHZSI72OtIJWIIgB4I54hFQ9FktugyeaN8GY-BDCxCY_sdlWDi25o9iL4bBfMPj-HzKJ28DCMPebCIB0gv1OHtZ_lydG-MOXRV2trEtNqTxyvsbONIv02xBM_ysAvNtZ1_jUVE8m0HdC/w400-h210/20220520_153520.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das graciosas entradas da Gare de l'Est</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tenho
uma enorme atração por estações de caminhos de ferro. São monumentos
extraordinários. Tal como as catedrais da Idade Média exprimiam a religiosidade
e o fervor da população, as grandes estações de caminhos de ferro também
traduzem os sentimentos e as aspirações de uma época. A maioria das grandes
estações foi construída entre o final do século XIX e a primeira metade do
século XX. São enormes estruturas de ferro e vidro que contam os avanços
tecnológicos do tempo e refletem a crença no progresso e nas capacidades do ser
humano, em especial o europeu. É o homem europeu que olha para as suas
realizações e se deleita com elas. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGP9izWFPqF9c1LEbdAMi757_IRLC-iY90ko1kvomwKpmKhKb2rEutRJaoQNoR4nJr-PtB-mIrapbKlbsItGxTz_yg6_gWtUOedwC_TWJjQrgvJhOe_rDBDsoLMfTnVmXugM6UPE2oMKgiE3Ml6NVT_sgj06eeodidbYYIrXQTloU2ssadV5cJboz/s4000/20220520_160141.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivGP9izWFPqF9c1LEbdAMi757_IRLC-iY90ko1kvomwKpmKhKb2rEutRJaoQNoR4nJr-PtB-mIrapbKlbsItGxTz_yg6_gWtUOedwC_TWJjQrgvJhOe_rDBDsoLMfTnVmXugM6UPE2oMKgiE3Ml6NVT_sgj06eeodidbYYIrXQTloU2ssadV5cJboz/w400-h225/20220520_160141.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pormenor do trabalho do ferro na Gare d'Austerlitz</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As
grandes estações servem os comboios, esses símbolos da era industrial. Pela
primeira vez, o homem podia deslocar-se através de uma força motriz criada por
ele próprio. Já não estava dependente da força dos animais, ou do vento, ou da
água. É claro para nós, hoje, que os custos ambientais foram enormes, mas como
podia isso ser preocupante para o homem do início da era industrial, inebriado
pelo seu próprio sucesso? <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeuazmk240fKYSwH9liTfSvzRJQsl-TwsNswm_Utu-xxrt0r3nW5VRXjbDtMMAefl3QydkM3eJBm8rKS2AOh9JDK3wSdg4nddUIaG_uezp5-RTR96tE5ywf4xlR6YoTet_ZGlX5SZipmO2zys5fJdhdxpjzwVbJPkvJFiU-jvMnJNw8s3IeT1cilL/s4000/20220520_162049.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDeuazmk240fKYSwH9liTfSvzRJQsl-TwsNswm_Utu-xxrt0r3nW5VRXjbDtMMAefl3QydkM3eJBm8rKS2AOh9JDK3wSdg4nddUIaG_uezp5-RTR96tE5ywf4xlR6YoTet_ZGlX5SZipmO2zys5fJdhdxpjzwVbJPkvJFiU-jvMnJNw8s3IeT1cilL/w400-h225/20220520_162049.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Ponte ferroviária sobre o rio Sena</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O
comboio não tardará a ser ultrapassado pelo automóvel e pelo avião mas, pelo
menos para mim, uma viagem de comboio mantém um encanto e um ritmo próprios,
que não foram substituídos. As grandes estações de caminhos de ferro
mantiveram-se como monumentos às realizações tecnológicas e à sensibilidade de
uma época.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Paris,
centro do mundo civilizado no início da século XX, capital da Belle Époque,
cadinho de experiências artísticas e sociais, reproduz, nas suas estações, um
mundo desaparecido.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXrgNWW8i8fc44UTe6rMYA-kCsJGFVc3A3Vtz74BhsBaC2oJUgfTKzl0C2dGsdzib72nHqC5Qx3Q4snSH_JnY5pjH5loT1x8ru19PGYDT2ACLIiKvMtdxVKVCDR-a2V1SFIxsXqrDBiAwL5MBRy1Oy45kqyAFQyaKdgxenrvgU9Qq95Lsy8BnC5b_/s4000/20220520_162626.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXXrgNWW8i8fc44UTe6rMYA-kCsJGFVc3A3Vtz74BhsBaC2oJUgfTKzl0C2dGsdzib72nHqC5Qx3Q4snSH_JnY5pjH5loT1x8ru19PGYDT2ACLIiKvMtdxVKVCDR-a2V1SFIxsXqrDBiAwL5MBRy1Oy45kqyAFQyaKdgxenrvgU9Qq95Lsy8BnC5b_/w225-h400/20220520_162626.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O elegante campanário da Gare de Lyon</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Inaugurada
em 1900, na época da Grande Exposition, a Gare de Lyon é muito mais do que uma
estação. É criada para ligar o norte ao sul do país, de Calais a Marselha,
passando por Paris e Lyon. Muitos dos que a utilizam são famílias inglesas que
descem para a Côte d’Azur para escapar às chuvas inglesas. A Gare de Lyon
mostra-lhes o melhor de França. Os bronzes esculpidos das escadarias. A grande
torre do relógio, a fazer lembrar o Big Ben. Os estuques das paredes e os
lustres. Os frescos e pinturas, que são como postais ilustrados da Paris da
Belle Époque. Quando ali passei, em maio de 2022, muitos espaços estavam
cobertos com tapumes, em remodelação. Mas, com a entrada um pouco escondida, na
Gare 1, ainda se encontra a entrada para o “Train Bleu”. O salão restaurante é
particularmente requintado, com o seu tom Art Deco. Ainda hoje se pode tomar aí
uma refeição ou, pelo menos, o cocktail “Train Bleu”, que relembra o célebre
comboio que levava os burgueses endinheirados para as paragens soalheiras do
sul. O mesmo “Train Bleu” imortalizado no romance de Agatha Christie, onde
Poirot desvenda mais um crime.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHm6QkLWAM2HfiLPLoTBXc32WsSkWLrFeWhAt2DPcr0-cdl8eOmgAsHlGio1QFgjhfH-qsHDGw4cICPKfNSfSRJuQf558GWuSmwQ8m70oP6z21lTd1030qUvq-9mrB49z86y-flnJo0JN4QCVB5PZMf66bJvAn69dBVq9AhAgUHJnb6pwoV5ttkLWR/s4000/20220520_183821.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHm6QkLWAM2HfiLPLoTBXc32WsSkWLrFeWhAt2DPcr0-cdl8eOmgAsHlGio1QFgjhfH-qsHDGw4cICPKfNSfSRJuQf558GWuSmwQ8m70oP6z21lTd1030qUvq-9mrB49z86y-flnJo0JN4QCVB5PZMf66bJvAn69dBVq9AhAgUHJnb6pwoV5ttkLWR/w400-h225/20220520_183821.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O requintado "Train Bleu", retrato de uma época</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7Zofv3iDpU1tfk3eoFG3tiISg33q76OzSs6K6ifXsYyuidz8vBPzgR5e7H-aX5SyczAcHsfY6aOIaL6QHoG0lRm2KVP3P02slrPeCdjopKIq4Qyw1fUzwc5QRNjXDFeqp53URTRdH7XXT-vJYivh58XRfHgMQjoazMp9HFhdOAnZKYGf2teicYnM/s4000/20220520_183908.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgY7Zofv3iDpU1tfk3eoFG3tiISg33q76OzSs6K6ifXsYyuidz8vBPzgR5e7H-aX5SyczAcHsfY6aOIaL6QHoG0lRm2KVP3P02slrPeCdjopKIq4Qyw1fUzwc5QRNjXDFeqp53URTRdH7XXT-vJYivh58XRfHgMQjoazMp9HFhdOAnZKYGf2teicYnM/w400-h225/20220520_183908.jpg" width="400" /></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Hoje,
a Gare de Lyon continua a movimentar milhares de pessoas diariamente. A estação
modernizou-se, mas as plataformas e escadas rolantes, as máquinas e terminais
eletrónicos, a entrada e saída dos TGV, não conseguem esconder a beleza e a
magia da velha estação. Para quem quiser ver, é claro!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAMDc6WVi1AJcvX0QMGwsJ7_v9em8LAXDT3XvPGvUUQhgztPgnZcOUCE2G8TK5RABkCWwxPsJcguPajS3bzNiq-vv0OVVslKzUKbLIbMvQTHalk7A8JtrejJ2NhiyOVdN36166V2vVnrPSZnRMgcPn5YF8Gg9JrPZBzYmkR8EnAxReVwOhz-LoHbi/s4000/20220520_163644.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEidAMDc6WVi1AJcvX0QMGwsJ7_v9em8LAXDT3XvPGvUUQhgztPgnZcOUCE2G8TK5RABkCWwxPsJcguPajS3bzNiq-vv0OVVslKzUKbLIbMvQTHalk7A8JtrejJ2NhiyOVdN36166V2vVnrPSZnRMgcPn5YF8Gg9JrPZBzYmkR8EnAxReVwOhz-LoHbi/w400-h225/20220520_163644.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pinturas dos locais turísticos franceses, sobre as bilheteiras</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As
outras estações de Paris têm histórias igualmente ricas, ligadas à arte e à
sociedade da época que as viu nascer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjniKrpDlxnr5d8laYxryRGivZdPFXyyMS6WVqpmgd96M5F-Kq8MbpjXF-fXP76T-yhxyCtMIAV_KspTYq4fZoQ81VfLwx7cDlYFuqaxP0KA4LseAHdcG12hVi0zW89FczFCsTNnVBMSgvGC8O-s3grANZaigDB70drAxwJB0sF8C05BsD3pwLF027z/s4000/20220520_152243.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjniKrpDlxnr5d8laYxryRGivZdPFXyyMS6WVqpmgd96M5F-Kq8MbpjXF-fXP76T-yhxyCtMIAV_KspTYq4fZoQ81VfLwx7cDlYFuqaxP0KA4LseAHdcG12hVi0zW89FczFCsTNnVBMSgvGC8O-s3grANZaigDB70drAxwJB0sF8C05BsD3pwLF027z/w400-h225/20220520_152243.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Partidas e despedidas num quadro no átrio da Gare de l'Est</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A
Gare du Nord, construída pelo barão de Rothschild, já mal ecoa os bailes que
ali se realizavam. As estátuas que ornamentam a sua frontaria representam
as cidades com as quais fazia ligação, como Bruxelas ou Colónia. Hoje, é a
estação ferroviária europeia que movimenta um maior número de passageiros por
ano. Aí chega o Eurostar, que passa sob o Canal da Mancha, ligando Londres à
Europa Continental.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRxTuoI85rBamb3a31UcEF6rG9TamP4Kz8D7SmjvNo-3JgEqQnoviS7NvKDDs_kHS86h9Jsf89JIqEGnR39iB9IBYbjERKuTJ2QhYEQVmrdFVzKikK3GMXnL_kWsB24j-AyKgGRrBaTzkJU4Xfw-_U_sOUPmuahprOjniUFoDhYqxdvWXAYIA8MEn7/s3881/20220520_143932.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2183" data-original-width="3881" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRxTuoI85rBamb3a31UcEF6rG9TamP4Kz8D7SmjvNo-3JgEqQnoviS7NvKDDs_kHS86h9Jsf89JIqEGnR39iB9IBYbjERKuTJ2QhYEQVmrdFVzKikK3GMXnL_kWsB24j-AyKgGRrBaTzkJU4Xfw-_U_sOUPmuahprOjniUFoDhYqxdvWXAYIA8MEn7/w400-h225/20220520_143932.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A frontaria da Gare du Nord</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLbSFR0KqjEdoeK1hNXeFbF2310PpHeDttw2XQqieGr2WkPYlFnZ3M4ZsXGx_CFjlEO9mza2gqMEosHWLofB8_fR6RnFE_ZUqIQlgECv7RWUqrZYA2rzT4tsJUxGTtUuxjoLYf39G8ePO-_lFeFgo-XU2z7nCfAKRKoOksZzmty6_dtAnH5Z85nOt/s4000/20220520_144327.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzLbSFR0KqjEdoeK1hNXeFbF2310PpHeDttw2XQqieGr2WkPYlFnZ3M4ZsXGx_CFjlEO9mza2gqMEosHWLofB8_fR6RnFE_ZUqIQlgECv7RWUqrZYA2rzT4tsJUxGTtUuxjoLYf39G8ePO-_lFeFgo-XU2z7nCfAKRKoOksZzmty6_dtAnH5Z85nOt/w400-h225/20220520_144327.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A estação europeia com maior movimento de passageiros</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A
Gare de Montparnasse também esconde segredos. Ali, atrás do balcão de uma
pequena loja de doces e brinquedos de lata, trabalhou e sonhou Georges Meliès.
Quem sabe se não foram os grandes comboios resfolegantes que o inspiraram, na
criação fantástica dos primeiros filmes de ficção científica que contam viagens
à Lua e ao Sol? Já pouco resta dessa época. A Gare de Montparnasse é a mais
moderna das gares de Paris.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Quanto
à Gare de St. Lazare, influenciou seguramente Claude Monet, que a pintou vezes
sem conta, tentando apanhar a cor e a luz, sempre mutável, quando os comboios
entravam e espalhavam o seu fumo sob os telhados de vidro.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYjE3Rr7UFZL_ZAv-2B0GUHXfeR6WLA3P3zdBzDVJhuHAT4APztMTB0an1_joOq1_--ykBcFrLv9l8yxkfJdGyw2MuQDKpWKrjWQF9EuYtgz9ys0X5Jou4lcWNiqx5DUBgKji26tx-qFo4chhAegOjZ9wAuaP8YjY16MiMIx6GDp2ZY25hUpjv5tt/s1267/1267px-Claude_Monet_-_The_Gare_Saint-Lazare,_Arrival_of_a_Train.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1024" data-original-width="1267" height="324" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLYjE3Rr7UFZL_ZAv-2B0GUHXfeR6WLA3P3zdBzDVJhuHAT4APztMTB0an1_joOq1_--ykBcFrLv9l8yxkfJdGyw2MuQDKpWKrjWQF9EuYtgz9ys0X5Jou4lcWNiqx5DUBgKji26tx-qFo4chhAegOjZ9wAuaP8YjY16MiMIx6GDp2ZY25hUpjv5tt/w400-h324/1267px-Claude_Monet_-_The_Gare_Saint-Lazare,_Arrival_of_a_Train.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A chegada de um comboio à Gare de San Lazare, Claude Monet</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br />
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A
Gare de l’Est, uma das mais antigas de Paris, conta histórias tristes, de
deportações e partidas dolorosas. Ainda hoje guarda as memórias dos soldados
que dali partiram para a frente de batalha, na 1.ª Guerra Mundial, assim como
dos muitos franceses que ali foram embarcados para o leste, durante a 2.ª
Guerra Mundial: muitos trabalhadores forçados e tantos outros levados para os
campos de concentração do Leste, dos quais poucos regressaram. Prefiro olhá-la
como o local de partida desse ícone das viagens ferroviárias, o Expresso do
Oriente!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdv9UxE1-VTHshaGqzyV_w-setzyoA7UvUqOt9SG36CSH-Qpnp7Gi0pIVsPMWABVaJmw1rtEE-9_0IJOakG7HGkYD6_yEi2WgHj8eZJJqrgBQvdw2DMDpUOzLoNKJo8B6Cp_vM4L92M8wtJ044qIsxQ4RN73upCsR9Fc4KF6DX80MRBhd9HiLNUAE/s3264/20220520_152532.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1836" data-original-width="3264" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkdv9UxE1-VTHshaGqzyV_w-setzyoA7UvUqOt9SG36CSH-Qpnp7Gi0pIVsPMWABVaJmw1rtEE-9_0IJOakG7HGkYD6_yEi2WgHj8eZJJqrgBQvdw2DMDpUOzLoNKJo8B6Cp_vM4L92M8wtJ044qIsxQ4RN73upCsR9Fc4KF6DX80MRBhd9HiLNUAE/w400-h225/20220520_152532.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Memoriais dolorosos na Gare de l'Est</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Das
grandes estações de caminhos de ferro de Paris, uma foi inativada. É a Gare du
Quai d’Orsay, transformada num museu magnífico, onde se reuniram as obras dos artistas
franceses da segunda métade do século XIX e início do século XX. Com a sua bela
fachada virada para o rio Sena, recheada com as obras artísticas da época de
ouro dos comboios a vapor, a Gare du Quai d’Orsay continua a ser um monumento
de exaltação de uma época única da história europeia: a era industrial.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffXOBTJjprrnK1zDS_crwdlE394lt3KisawBxgt1v34y_6zXUpu4yqS7EwUC8l-SVYWCzV9Ip68SWurg0Ly9KGX-yZ3wSPwcXF-Dwe_0q5HuoXPMgb5enzViLWZQXPNXLNVLHBNx-sQOPZ1Da6YV_qC-2Xf-y-kNRvQGiNTXr_ffBwoQx5L2WtO_b/s4000/20220521_114516.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiffXOBTJjprrnK1zDS_crwdlE394lt3KisawBxgt1v34y_6zXUpu4yqS7EwUC8l-SVYWCzV9Ip68SWurg0Ly9KGX-yZ3wSPwcXF-Dwe_0q5HuoXPMgb5enzViLWZQXPNXLNVLHBNx-sQOPZ1Da6YV_qC-2Xf-y-kNRvQGiNTXr_ffBwoQx5L2WtO_b/w400-h225/20220521_114516.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A antiga Gare du Quai d'Orsay, da linha Paris-Orleans, hoje transformada num museu</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-25262658422299374472022-04-25T12:32:00.002+01:002022-04-26T23:53:11.677+01:00Estrasburgo, capital da Europa<p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"> </span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVUnUsL51gWjwsHbniDpL5s3MFUifpaYTDHzytrf0UXt0bVSNqeu7bPeOhEKax3FVbxFXDwG5c9r5ERY_a7XMmy1tBUJeB87dvfn74WFnmf9MWkFzyOGPUE0WFwClLOlRwz7nW6-LVnB89U3FNYEkcyLYd25G_LrOysCrJw6jqnf5N7mgKHjYBDawn/s4000/20211202_094722.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiVUnUsL51gWjwsHbniDpL5s3MFUifpaYTDHzytrf0UXt0bVSNqeu7bPeOhEKax3FVbxFXDwG5c9r5ERY_a7XMmy1tBUJeB87dvfn74WFnmf9MWkFzyOGPUE0WFwClLOlRwz7nW6-LVnB89U3FNYEkcyLYd25G_LrOysCrJw6jqnf5N7mgKHjYBDawn/w400-h225/20211202_094722.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A encantadora Strasbourg</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Quando pensamos em Estrasburgo, possivelmente pensamos no Conselho da Europa, ou no Parlamento Europeu. Estrasburgo é muito mais do que isso, mas essa posição de capital da Europa assenta-lhe às mil maravilhas.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Provavelmente, a Alsácia é das regiões da Europa com uma história e uma cultura mais "mestiçada". Fundada pelos romanos como um acampamento militar, é com o estabelecimento das tribos germânicas que inundam o império que a cidade se desenvolve e evolui. Foi integrada no Sacro Império Romano Germânico, depois conquistada por Luis XIV, até passar para as mãos prussianas no século XIX. Depois, é o que sabemos: outra vez francesa depois da 1.ª Guerra Mundial, outra vez alemã durante a 2.ª Guerra Mundial... A cada alteração de nacionalidade, têm de se mudar a língua, a escola, a forma de organização, os divertimentos, até o nome! No fim do percurso, resta uma cidade francesa com tradições germânicas.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4inp4Pb5-ISPmIRu1mMoA2ogDQG4DUQ3UdBQc5J5J6PLLQ4BF82GPEEPLwsT_jT8g7OrOlNKyMOpeSt6YG2dK2u0LvX1ZrBNH55z43zePS3X_7o7my78ervd3OaeKIlpkJIp7ojAPkD_OKgizoyRLtqS2tzFnACdYWH0-d5wwDlJAtWOqmJ199ft-/s4000/20211202_104139.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4inp4Pb5-ISPmIRu1mMoA2ogDQG4DUQ3UdBQc5J5J6PLLQ4BF82GPEEPLwsT_jT8g7OrOlNKyMOpeSt6YG2dK2u0LvX1ZrBNH55z43zePS3X_7o7my78ervd3OaeKIlpkJIp7ojAPkD_OKgizoyRLtqS2tzFnACdYWH0-d5wwDlJAtWOqmJ199ft-/w225-h400/20211202_104139.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Gutenberg, na sua praça</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSSAdkD8PY58IV1dRnMET0lpkTsjdxV4d8ARXFE2jPvlQxsdfk2KKAs6K-1RHGXhgah1fFjVdC0wq__fx-2sNSyr2HGHPAPmK29TlpOHHJPRIW7gqSAezqQwMKrR4b4MesEp3o0g_nNtO3NOZY1wYe6kmsWXnSAWZ8hgUA3hdduSaPtFtdPa_Vz_l/s4000/20211202_102351.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcSSAdkD8PY58IV1dRnMET0lpkTsjdxV4d8ARXFE2jPvlQxsdfk2KKAs6K-1RHGXhgah1fFjVdC0wq__fx-2sNSyr2HGHPAPmK29TlpOHHJPRIW7gqSAezqQwMKrR4b4MesEp3o0g_nNtO3NOZY1wYe6kmsWXnSAWZ8hgUA3hdduSaPtFtdPa_Vz_l/w400-h225/20211202_102351.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Belas casas ao longo dos canais</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Ainda hoje, estas múltiplas heranças são visíveis. Por exemplo, em todo o centro histórico as ruas e praças têm um nome em francês e outro em alemão. Não admira que o canal de televisão franco-alemão ARTE aqui tenha a sua sede. Os estrasburgueses são naturalmente bilingues. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnX-OU8DoE8Gh4m9Q7qP-D19cbtD_SvpuP1IzfGJZzsj96W0XkCQycoJRuUL7jI72EpCt05zfARL8AmsLyhIo0c__xwWGeRGcE5zQlWeq43OJcY2jHXKQB23xOWMzsMX-RueQy_qU0kmv2Ox9tASB0ZwyxaPG-Eu0AgGrF_2bimCrCnlXHWdqM0sS/s4000/20211202_101111.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKnX-OU8DoE8Gh4m9Q7qP-D19cbtD_SvpuP1IzfGJZzsj96W0XkCQycoJRuUL7jI72EpCt05zfARL8AmsLyhIo0c__xwWGeRGcE5zQlWeq43OJcY2jHXKQB23xOWMzsMX-RueQy_qU0kmv2Ox9tASB0ZwyxaPG-Eu0AgGrF_2bimCrCnlXHWdqM0sS/w225-h400/20211202_101111.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Toponímia em duas línguas...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Estas transições não se fizeram sem tensões e resistências. Um bom exemplo é Hansi, um desenhador e ilustrador, adepto nostálgico da cultura francesa no início do século XX. Nas suas obras infantis, criou um imaginário baseado nas tradições francesas, do vestuário à gastronomia. Os seus desenhos construiram a imagem de uma Alsácia já inexistente, e perduram até hoje. Preso e tratado como um traidor pelos alemães, Hansi reviveu como um herói da resistência francesa. Hoje, as suas figuras e desenhos aparecem em pacotes de bolachas e latas de souvenirs. Em Colmar, a sua cidade natal, tem um pequeno museu, que recria os cenários bucólicos da sua obra.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2oDxszzUtyWumcaavloLO2SuBjANmVHDi0jERY_yh4Pr8LHTe51pUCZY1t2qfLL0micE7u_TE53J7fV3RbRAJZFdh8UpZQoYVU5a7waj8TAMb1q0yTatAzMAy8juUvSVZHpz1Js33QEsLa4AdyeyYBELGz8ZexLERPG1cXdpLDG8j813dcFTntaa/s3550/20211203_144831.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3550" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd2oDxszzUtyWumcaavloLO2SuBjANmVHDi0jERY_yh4Pr8LHTe51pUCZY1t2qfLL0micE7u_TE53J7fV3RbRAJZFdh8UpZQoYVU5a7waj8TAMb1q0yTatAzMAy8juUvSVZHpz1Js33QEsLa4AdyeyYBELGz8ZexLERPG1cXdpLDG8j813dcFTntaa/w254-h400/20211203_144831.jpg" width="254" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Cartaz na entrada do Museu Hansi</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A cidade cresceu na margem do rio Reno, a eterna fronteira entre o espaço germânico e o latino, e do seu afluente, o rio Ill. A água é omnipresente. Os canais cruzam a cidade antiga, deixando entrever bonitos recantos, onde as casas de enxaimel bordejam os canais. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIoYWoy06jY0uzG0ZvxaLtAw50h4Z10_uAzSJlqXYmYIN32nvoDA1EAP7gY-mweZS6AmVGrmp0DF8eKEammwu0RpvKZU3UenoGSOqwPR_twJPvBVlYXiTkCUQEPta1KQ33D2W6yhUXpNkICHY2BnfZhl2hiX7eZ1mjs-1qNS_aCouP800Hh1oUgQg/s4000/20211202_095045.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRIoYWoy06jY0uzG0ZvxaLtAw50h4Z10_uAzSJlqXYmYIN32nvoDA1EAP7gY-mweZS6AmVGrmp0DF8eKEammwu0RpvKZU3UenoGSOqwPR_twJPvBVlYXiTkCUQEPta1KQ33D2W6yhUXpNkICHY2BnfZhl2hiX7eZ1mjs-1qNS_aCouP800Hh1oUgQg/w400-h225/20211202_095045.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Canais e recantos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTrhdPXF130a3v8m8WE2iXJeDKleUdKQ-2ssGlD3IsUxDMiUZI0eG8SbG9IXImdrKzE7LpLVhciyHE5s0-5086EECWoWldVj7fePRsBD1QibwjpVjQAsNQ4wz9hyRAltoHe0mnYc1fUsdnuoMs37Mb9MqvWIh18CooQ34e2jZH4vqXmhMqbHIGu_C/s4000/20211202_095130.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgsTrhdPXF130a3v8m8WE2iXJeDKleUdKQ-2ssGlD3IsUxDMiUZI0eG8SbG9IXImdrKzE7LpLVhciyHE5s0-5086EECWoWldVj7fePRsBD1QibwjpVjQAsNQ4wz9hyRAltoHe0mnYc1fUsdnuoMs37Mb9MqvWIh18CooQ34e2jZH4vqXmhMqbHIGu_C/w400-h225/20211202_095130.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma casa entre canais</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghD_-puqQsALRnSwNl7hQOciegIM16xgMxp6nv6dIJPpK8PkTb2Yvkv0FP9iwIcwwc9M2HOqLkoPb_7hqzvz0ETTXmmtLbZgGNDnjn2G9AsqaCk9wFGSwEE2QgCiY9Ws_03MDgN-xgXaQrQkIL2zV1Y3d1YT3CMh0fK5Zk1_hSPHwl00QBEN2z3LU1/s4000/20211202_095715.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghD_-puqQsALRnSwNl7hQOciegIM16xgMxp6nv6dIJPpK8PkTb2Yvkv0FP9iwIcwwc9M2HOqLkoPb_7hqzvz0ETTXmmtLbZgGNDnjn2G9AsqaCk9wFGSwEE2QgCiY9Ws_03MDgN-xgXaQrQkIL2zV1Y3d1YT3CMh0fK5Zk1_hSPHwl00QBEN2z3LU1/w400-h225/20211202_095715.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As casas de enxaimel bordejam os canais</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O espaço é cruzado por inúmeras pontes, algumas das quais têm eclusas que ainda hoje abrem e fecham para a passagem dos barcos. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty6KbDJoYNjiXdXe64zxPO2kgtf234s9rqXQHRFaWA-2UWuiC7mpeNWvrZmdyIKHhjY9KYq0EYD-oYgUwUsZY_VD512u2Gpt49sAGHwgg7_dZH3WJQ8asCg19AC6N7s08F8PsDjAvByQqW3LpXtYCi5e8Mq4R0_g5ClLqK1pEdK2uZmlDs8wbpY8_/s4000/20211202_093956.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgty6KbDJoYNjiXdXe64zxPO2kgtf234s9rqXQHRFaWA-2UWuiC7mpeNWvrZmdyIKHhjY9KYq0EYD-oYgUwUsZY_VD512u2Gpt49sAGHwgg7_dZH3WJQ8asCg19AC6N7s08F8PsDjAvByQqW3LpXtYCi5e8Mq4R0_g5ClLqK1pEdK2uZmlDs8wbpY8_/w400-h225/20211202_093956.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pontes e eclusas...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCO-QcrPFiTmokNwEH2I-_XcdFDRRHwWg93AgbXIckGWkwkE7cFYtLImiCNlK4QbVMa8e3bG8zSUrAsOEV5Nh_NVHydfRAk23hhcggYv2mtRBa3KtkUkrwo3NwpeJd0shGZZQMNIgIQcheAutYHrIYy82b31xwJxd6XJMHBuqjn-oGycGUPbSDxLt/s4000/20211202_101704.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgcCO-QcrPFiTmokNwEH2I-_XcdFDRRHwWg93AgbXIckGWkwkE7cFYtLImiCNlK4QbVMa8e3bG8zSUrAsOEV5Nh_NVHydfRAk23hhcggYv2mtRBa3KtkUkrwo3NwpeJd0shGZZQMNIgIQcheAutYHrIYy82b31xwJxd6XJMHBuqjn-oGycGUPbSDxLt/w400-h225/20211202_101704.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">As antigas fortificações foram sofrendo acrescentos e destruições, conforme a evolução histórica. Restam algumas torres, ainda imponentes, junto das Pontes Cobertas e da Barragem Vauban, mandada erguer por Luis XIV para garantir a defesa da cidade, como um bloqueio do canal de navegação.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpljlXIwrvKR0h6boJ29LIPRxOPwcZwwpWEOFEg4AT-tkoaensqlZZvIRx_KKUos8Lm2YbCIG3TeonLM3AAf2IR0WOy2nKV77WbvJ7xnRvFMlToxOl5mcGOe5qPX0xRJE-R_sZSI3GyiQ2L-P0fmNkRpzv0tUJTsp_JRAXH6npxR2ufrJxO6Ttjwx/s4000/20211202_133430.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqpljlXIwrvKR0h6boJ29LIPRxOPwcZwwpWEOFEg4AT-tkoaensqlZZvIRx_KKUos8Lm2YbCIG3TeonLM3AAf2IR0WOy2nKV77WbvJ7xnRvFMlToxOl5mcGOe5qPX0xRJE-R_sZSI3GyiQ2L-P0fmNkRpzv0tUJTsp_JRAXH6npxR2ufrJxO6Ttjwx/w400-h225/20211202_133430.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As torres que restam das velhas fortificações</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb8Vs5s88EZU3Mk7bR0BwfxplmC6l208DKil5j7jFnCENyvURF0xjfUSCeDN7lZiGQd6Xxok6Px1YKqlmvL2j7Q9dyhw4qTiv_OFvbE4ndNuMa97IU2y9dLJxs4KeDjmt15GQ1IpSrTggM_6DCPD0ZnKInWm0aStCBBDT22ffO_oMz4XvslEG5iBLE/s4000/20211202_094549.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb8Vs5s88EZU3Mk7bR0BwfxplmC6l208DKil5j7jFnCENyvURF0xjfUSCeDN7lZiGQd6Xxok6Px1YKqlmvL2j7Q9dyhw4qTiv_OFvbE4ndNuMa97IU2y9dLJxs4KeDjmt15GQ1IpSrTggM_6DCPD0ZnKInWm0aStCBBDT22ffO_oMz4XvslEG5iBLE/w400-h225/20211202_094549.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A barragem Vauban</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A zona mais interessante e pitoresca é a Petite France, antigamente um conjunto de casas e ruas pobres e mal afamadas, que bordejam o canal de navegação do Ill. Aí se situavam armazéns de cereais e de bebidas, mas também habitações pobres, de estrutura em madeira, que hoje, restauradas, fazem as delícias dos turistas.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JUPXznJN63iha3o2JTKXaFOoMSJhq9Yu-1-qA3wYURGYLMY0K284ya8_m07TrT1hNyBtd-2JfaFJAdAXgDTIGAm5eLbRLtS1eVAyuCttM7UM1wgps37yOre5kNGU3pbamFp1X_57G3zHyHaYXCr0m00vXURzCGpj_DpcxmeBIWtsvXWQUyhp683P/s3047/20211202_173213.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3047" data-original-width="2191" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4JUPXznJN63iha3o2JTKXaFOoMSJhq9Yu-1-qA3wYURGYLMY0K284ya8_m07TrT1hNyBtd-2JfaFJAdAXgDTIGAm5eLbRLtS1eVAyuCttM7UM1wgps37yOre5kNGU3pbamFp1X_57G3zHyHaYXCr0m00vXURzCGpj_DpcxmeBIWtsvXWQUyhp683P/w288-h400/20211202_173213.jpg" width="288" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A entrada na Petite France</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDLEVg7cVvjFHUMyHkIyQBeIwVhiBbnIkIzamct4zasIK6q1FLo0luAu4XWqOc0EAiz4A6TBDQrM1e1RELtwMOwvvwzyddwf78XBJosHS80_xaGX6lSZGQL2LV1rfQBIWnzFppEhR1BiUjf2LZhEQJOa5YHeXyen6Y9gou5xGnWWkFp_RGwoJlO-WY/s4000/20211202_100108.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiDLEVg7cVvjFHUMyHkIyQBeIwVhiBbnIkIzamct4zasIK6q1FLo0luAu4XWqOc0EAiz4A6TBDQrM1e1RELtwMOwvvwzyddwf78XBJosHS80_xaGX6lSZGQL2LV1rfQBIWnzFppEhR1BiUjf2LZhEQJOa5YHeXyen6Y9gou5xGnWWkFp_RGwoJlO-WY/w225-h400/20211202_100108.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O velho armazém de cereais</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A origem do nome "Petite France" é pitoresca. Aparentemente, advém da criação naquele local de um hospital para acolher os soldados do rei de França que tinham cercado Nápoles e daí tinham trazido uma nova doença chamada "sífilis", a apartir daí apelidada de "mal dos franceses". O nome foi ficando e o local do hospital já se chamava Petite France no século XVII.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSq0GVfPlh9JXKCaSLD87848lwOXrYl2KvCk5A88_Ve_KAJGzY_P_Spq3sbEWXURK68ne3O_1viiz3-rme2hQmBV0namTXXUJsRg3vYisWRRe8giA-qTpGmUvz9X7CURrviXL0i99zptW9mSBqlQDgDqrwt9_eJI0DNPshMgb3bUv-bs0Knq_yvImE/s4000/20211202_124537.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgSq0GVfPlh9JXKCaSLD87848lwOXrYl2KvCk5A88_Ve_KAJGzY_P_Spq3sbEWXURK68ne3O_1viiz3-rme2hQmBV0namTXXUJsRg3vYisWRRe8giA-qTpGmUvz9X7CURrviXL0i99zptW9mSBqlQDgDqrwt9_eJI0DNPshMgb3bUv-bs0Knq_yvImE/w400-h225/20211202_124537.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O antigo hospital, agora transformado num restaurante</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No centro histórico de Estrasburgo, todas as ruas e todos os olhares confluem para a catedral de Notre-Dame-de-Strasburg. A obra de construção iniciou-se em 1015 e há ainda traços dessa igreja românica, particularmente no altar-mor. Depois de um incêndio, a construção é retomada, agora já no estilo gótico. Quando a sua única torre é completada, já no século XV, os seus vertiginosos 142 metros transformam a catedral no edifício mais alto do mundo, durante quatro séculos!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKJIoDJw6KUCPkESsjsnCkywREU5GehnRBppe3O-7ILpSNHU9_FIGWQjlKTdLXTvb5sBGvmdi_-y0bOBvwlLqmhU8eEFhajIj6sUWaq9Oi3pCaM4DABpbm7Pk4fh5IcIyPMtpSSgxEMf4Tt5GejRyEJK70UvbR2YGNr_cBqUWnsgHR2U1c0PnN299/s4000/20211202_104533.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJKJIoDJw6KUCPkESsjsnCkywREU5GehnRBppe3O-7ILpSNHU9_FIGWQjlKTdLXTvb5sBGvmdi_-y0bOBvwlLqmhU8eEFhajIj6sUWaq9Oi3pCaM4DABpbm7Pk4fh5IcIyPMtpSSgxEMf4Tt5GejRyEJK70UvbR2YGNr_cBqUWnsgHR2U1c0PnN299/w225-h400/20211202_104533.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">A catedral de Strasbourg, difícil de fotografar por entre as ruas estreitas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Lu5UDB5QL0R4vEqdNjkvHt-aZk618CKpz2RQuU4G8Br9sjRjy-acDpTeXYZb6SgXL_BosDGaMaZW8fOvZf0PsnhqPr83jRKICYcXib1av7HoGqw2elXKMfV837l__97ZJ6U0GbnrVYZ8F28tdqGzhNv5ThWkhWXMTHc45ylFRkRndKgcZx6gfDyq/s3547/20211202_104858.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3547" data-original-width="2212" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1Lu5UDB5QL0R4vEqdNjkvHt-aZk618CKpz2RQuU4G8Br9sjRjy-acDpTeXYZb6SgXL_BosDGaMaZW8fOvZf0PsnhqPr83jRKICYcXib1av7HoGqw2elXKMfV837l__97ZJ6U0GbnrVYZ8F28tdqGzhNv5ThWkhWXMTHc45ylFRkRndKgcZx6gfDyq/s320/20211202_104858.jpg" width="200" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas é no interior que se escondem os mais belos tesouros, como o púlpito do século XV ou as magníficas tapeçarias do século XVII. O orgão data do século XIV. Quando visitei a catedral, um enorme presépio ocupava toda a nave do lado direito. Havia tantos pormenores a atrair os nossos olhares que se torna difícil uma reportagem...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlAlfcl681r5YRrWhM80dQKW07jSK724Af5gpBGpfNAidH26_M5z_rrN1DqNcWeNyRx9zoIivoUdvKOS9nEf6gknvfBbZY9vw3-LPwNBy7vJhp9ShlRRv3UVhKKydVoT05ZQZSQs45E9QHsOhQwONALGdO7HPzPiOhBkPfIgpXnmeC_kw3ZI8TwQzq/s3624/20211202_110027.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3624" data-original-width="2234" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjlAlfcl681r5YRrWhM80dQKW07jSK724Af5gpBGpfNAidH26_M5z_rrN1DqNcWeNyRx9zoIivoUdvKOS9nEf6gknvfBbZY9vw3-LPwNBy7vJhp9ShlRRv3UVhKKydVoT05ZQZSQs45E9QHsOhQwONALGdO7HPzPiOhBkPfIgpXnmeC_kw3ZI8TwQzq/w246-h400/20211202_110027.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O púlpito... as tapeçarias...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Todos os dias, às 12h 30m, uma pequena multidão aglomera-se ao fundo da igreja, do lado direito, para assistir ao espetáculo dos autómatos no grande relógio astronómico, que encenam a passagem dos estádios da vida, frente à imagem da morte. É interessante, é claro, mas confesso que o meu olhar se deixou atrair e encantar pelo Pilar dos Anjos, construído em frente ao relógio astronómico. Uma pequena maravilha!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszS0oXG91TdiMd5fF11qKH14wh3ImvBMwQa0pMRF7HfDwRbhGfFWj31jwjn1nQe6U3UKA4OWrYGRK9rAg2KRWrHKU-96Rpzx9C7AGUsWLdBk_CQu-UA4k4eTMMP0eQACPhySNTHm4N1HY79-U0TPVmRsqtwqwnRigyEzHLPXWOKbxwwpeHCPRveg6/s4000/20211202_110903.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiszS0oXG91TdiMd5fF11qKH14wh3ImvBMwQa0pMRF7HfDwRbhGfFWj31jwjn1nQe6U3UKA4OWrYGRK9rAg2KRWrHKU-96Rpzx9C7AGUsWLdBk_CQu-UA4k4eTMMP0eQACPhySNTHm4N1HY79-U0TPVmRsqtwqwnRigyEzHLPXWOKbxwwpeHCPRveg6/w225-h400/20211202_110903.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O relógio astronómico da catedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLkP9MR9ghf-I1UfdG4cJv8rxCo5BAMionPXfpxBGP4AtAMf47OXGTEHm82NY4qINQKmFKfUf6ThfCdco6UD6oXTOtucvCIRQ2-66fxgOMpEvWth8jKuEq1Kcf2C_9JazZq79TikI2y2KxlOkPrDn6RKKGq4rFViWx3o8KTS11M-wB76dUSjkJr8h/s4000/20211202_110916.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNLkP9MR9ghf-I1UfdG4cJv8rxCo5BAMionPXfpxBGP4AtAMf47OXGTEHm82NY4qINQKmFKfUf6ThfCdco6UD6oXTOtucvCIRQ2-66fxgOMpEvWth8jKuEq1Kcf2C_9JazZq79TikI2y2KxlOkPrDn6RKKGq4rFViWx3o8KTS11M-wB76dUSjkJr8h/w225-h400/20211202_110916.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Pilar dos Anjos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A história da catedral é atribulada; não podia ser de outra forma, assitiu a dez séculos de conflitos e mudanças do seu lugar privilegiado, no centro da Europa. A minha história preferida remonta à Revolução Francesa: condenada à demolição pelos chefes revolucionários, foi salva pela ideia, no mínimo original, de coroar o pináculoda torre com um enorme barrete frígio. Assim, o símbolo revolucionário salvou a catedral da destruição.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigb5KXVScf_IzilIo9ZQEuEVKpwlYzwWYZ9l_FonUcrBwXT0dMg3iP_pwIuf3iTJsJzG-h4FjyH1njpG7Mhh0oLal_pz1J_mG6CrUMx0P75CtmPq59sXWuT90ruansAjg8uhSYUUDwC54zvarhyedLRDx8EC8YXvt5iKkEMC6e5FfyJkDh1WSZaxry/s4000/20211202_105447.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEigb5KXVScf_IzilIo9ZQEuEVKpwlYzwWYZ9l_FonUcrBwXT0dMg3iP_pwIuf3iTJsJzG-h4FjyH1njpG7Mhh0oLal_pz1J_mG6CrUMx0P75CtmPq59sXWuT90ruansAjg8uhSYUUDwC54zvarhyedLRDx8EC8YXvt5iKkEMC6e5FfyJkDh1WSZaxry/w225-h400/20211202_105447.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O guardião da catedral?<br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Como todas as cidades antigas, Estrasburgo é para percorrer a pé, explorar os recantos, sentar numa esplanada junto ao rio, ou saborear os pratos típicos alsacianos num dos velhos restaurantes do centro, repletos de cartazes e desenhos que nos fazem revisitar a história da região.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJQuNo6cyRPxRL4BYDpyEm9XNdIvF4Fy7AMi31Z12boIkl3Ohi5pxIEZfGVL8VnEJXDpeU9NmkITiZC9SvQ6XyJSnjOXGjIaiF5uS1MvuZRM5nudP_n_3FJqewJTo7cUHp6k90STu-1Z06hTvHOAc8XXSLuptiMj3JYZmYTARX4r_igX9aKjA5hHy/s4000/20211202_123825.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimJQuNo6cyRPxRL4BYDpyEm9XNdIvF4Fy7AMi31Z12boIkl3Ohi5pxIEZfGVL8VnEJXDpeU9NmkITiZC9SvQ6XyJSnjOXGjIaiF5uS1MvuZRM5nudP_n_3FJqewJTo7cUHp6k90STu-1Z06hTvHOAc8XXSLuptiMj3JYZmYTARX4r_igX9aKjA5hHy/w225-h400/20211202_123825.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O restaurante <i>Au Vieux Strasbourg</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Todavia, a rede de canais convida a um passeio de barco. Partem a todas as horas do cais, junto da catedral, ou das Pontes Cobertas. É um belo passeio, que percorre a zona histórica, antiga, passando pelas pequenas eclusas dos canais. Passa também pela imponente Strasburg alemã dos finais do século XIX, cheia de edifícios que pretendiam ser uma montra da grandeza prussiana. Um dos edifícios mais interessantes da época de domínio prussiano, embora não seja visível do barco, é a estação de caminhos de ferro. Tem uma fachada clássica e sisuda, suavizada por uma instalação recente, em vidro, construída para preservar o conjunto e que lhe confere um ar um pouco irreal, de bola de sabão.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyfuJvXko-eev3eIjcOs8lIdQj_O1cr6OPABi1FstIzCKU5454RA4Pchs8uf4veYZpQxpqyQR-gpwQ6hQec-DsHVdD5NJWdTdg_ntlquWu_3cm7eZsxkpjFgZv86wlSZbYxzHAL9tWHOT8dSxbC7CGJ6BsW81YFUoCn-pvfkoDcws4E3aEwmcLnqe/s4000/20211202_213525.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1778" data-original-width="4000" height="178" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgyfuJvXko-eev3eIjcOs8lIdQj_O1cr6OPABi1FstIzCKU5454RA4Pchs8uf4veYZpQxpqyQR-gpwQ6hQec-DsHVdD5NJWdTdg_ntlquWu_3cm7eZsxkpjFgZv86wlSZbYxzHAL9tWHOT8dSxbC7CGJ6BsW81YFUoCn-pvfkoDcws4E3aEwmcLnqe/w400-h178/20211202_213525.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A estação ferroviária de Estrasburgo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O barco termina o passeio na nova zona europeia, onde se situam as instituições da União Europeia, como o Parlamento Europeu. Nada mais apropriado para tentar compreender o percurso e o espírito desta cidade, para o bem e para o mal situada no coração da Europa.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeVz-unNKC2c_vl_qB0kJOR-GIL17Z7xFF55NyqcDL5d6sAGMqwDkyn3_4_7tCHURdx7DMYaf59IFpnv3QYXvyhGsrbO_Em4d7uiMo3u7qToa4nB5bGvBIFO5KqFwcBjsbid2wbjeEttoSbJ4FdY2ufQe5PJe4mNL5Mfz3vgN5ZlTw97E1bJPx2Rt/s4000/20211202_135836.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQeVz-unNKC2c_vl_qB0kJOR-GIL17Z7xFF55NyqcDL5d6sAGMqwDkyn3_4_7tCHURdx7DMYaf59IFpnv3QYXvyhGsrbO_Em4d7uiMo3u7qToa4nB5bGvBIFO5KqFwcBjsbid2wbjeEttoSbJ4FdY2ufQe5PJe4mNL5Mfz3vgN5ZlTw97E1bJPx2Rt/w400-h225/20211202_135836.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As instituições europeias, vistas do barco</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBaeiy5EYWz2wto0hruh8JJz0aYPU-x4twozQUbA7veTVO7RfobvHbTdGrOS8LSrbssbULDKXgX53D3nTwmN5xDdRaunD44y1Ct-b33BeQ6KszLM-U-Lgesvmxx1WYsQ8-R9p2eehDQXRFj3aGUshjSoSciLEh4EWpf3gvLwoBuVZhI-_3k7guxe8y/s4000/20211202_140051.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiBaeiy5EYWz2wto0hruh8JJz0aYPU-x4twozQUbA7veTVO7RfobvHbTdGrOS8LSrbssbULDKXgX53D3nTwmN5xDdRaunD44y1Ct-b33BeQ6KszLM-U-Lgesvmxx1WYsQ8-R9p2eehDQXRFj3aGUshjSoSciLEh4EWpf3gvLwoBuVZhI-_3k7guxe8y/w400-h225/20211202_140051.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-12965765408177335672022-03-12T19:23:00.000+00:002022-03-12T19:23:57.559+00:00De mota pelas serras de Almanzor - As estradas encantadas de Guadarrama<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi7xL9yjAzd5gsf-3DUQzqDYLi9PN0uIJTti38PQoRdqOt8GWBl0xoMf354jgDfIVvqyDWV_YtGORr9TtM0oNzBP1j1wCL0xZwl-_s2cpp-0ZrJR6vxqeEbV6WrFB9dl8oz0zOCq-oH7cbC6zqPy6tpnscSQOht8PHdAmUNd_K7kIpiAKOIhwzrbNGE=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi7xL9yjAzd5gsf-3DUQzqDYLi9PN0uIJTti38PQoRdqOt8GWBl0xoMf354jgDfIVvqyDWV_YtGORr9TtM0oNzBP1j1wCL0xZwl-_s2cpp-0ZrJR6vxqeEbV6WrFB9dl8oz0zOCq-oH7cbC6zqPy6tpnscSQOht8PHdAmUNd_K7kIpiAKOIhwzrbNGE=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Ermida de Nossa Senhora de Las Vegas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /> <span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A saída de Segóvia faz-se por uma planicie dourada, onde nos aparece uma ermida românica com o nome inesperado de Nossa Senhora de las Vegas. Construída sobre um mausoléu anterior, paleo-cristão, sobressai na planície de que toma o nome, elegante como uma jóia rara.</span><div><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgydn48N9k__eK5in0v9ygKbLCt-sB1Hrjox4VDWqTfhWpzmYz2XKCZ5gOK-38wS-qTFPZQ66CUH9vYA4VJCB8OHuIDTQ_nWuoxFhIXliBdHCxR91D70Ibxb0Jt5aXji9qrdsHvB81wyRXjwOIWCRdBZ2vMqiBRATbDI-hJv2KrWfWxtwAcqUNwgQwK=s2681" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2681" data-original-width="1775" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgydn48N9k__eK5in0v9ygKbLCt-sB1Hrjox4VDWqTfhWpzmYz2XKCZ5gOK-38wS-qTFPZQ66CUH9vYA4VJCB8OHuIDTQ_nWuoxFhIXliBdHCxR91D70Ibxb0Jt5aXji9qrdsHvB81wyRXjwOIWCRdBZ2vMqiBRATbDI-hJv2KrWfWxtwAcqUNwgQwK=w265-h400" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada da ermida</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas o nosso objetivo para o dia é a Serra de Guadarrama. É um dos paraísos dos motociclistas, mas também pode ser um inferno. É um extenso maciço montanhoso, com estradas maravilhosas, mas também com zonas inóspitas e pouco acessíveis. Algumas apenas aparecem nos mapas como estradas rurais, outras nem isso. Em todo o caso, o calor aperta e apetece-nos subir para a montanha e apanhar um ar um pouco mais fresco.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiPY9jctpH7pkR7WAFHwBl5OSt59qqMYxIP_heKbvxUOR2E0ZMDNInamT_g_itVX2B1UKrQjQ25HDsJ3N6m5-Xvo74VwPLDiWcKKhqqbgpefcgPcBvYVB76VhII5Yp-gK4ru90iX6PI88ofNgBS9-pZsfkiFtc530QaKaV0SmQY-LrxulRv_aqFO4H7=w400-h225" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No Parque Natural da Serra de Guadarrama</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Começamos a subir para a serra de Guadarrama. Primeira etapa, a pequena cidade de Pedraza, já acima dos mil metros de altitude, em pleno Parque Natural da Serra de Guadarrama. Hoje, é um local eminentemente turístico, mas tem muita história e muita alma. Tem uma bela entrada muralhada, um castelo e uma Plaza Mayor surpreendente: de formato um pouco irregular, está rodeada de casas escudadas, assim como as duas ruas principais. Parece-nos que poderia ser um refúgio de verão para as famílias nobres da região, nos tempos medievais. Bem preservada, conserva uma dignidade altiva, que nos dá vontade de regressar, talvez para a "Festa das Luzes"...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTsHcAksgkHmO-9BLPH3SjM13xpcoffE4jB0m89ZqXIFqrac2P4WmDwxkeJMLYtFGaL4QnZ1QIXssNnNG7dYLNuYvVHIz-2kw9hjA9j9bR3Yk6mry0h8mSOMR25AOR6xxb2lAxMOhCKcp3IZH-VT_A28jgT2QyAQJ6Fvsv540JPQivMH_Y5pxZrA64=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTsHcAksgkHmO-9BLPH3SjM13xpcoffE4jB0m89ZqXIFqrac2P4WmDwxkeJMLYtFGaL4QnZ1QIXssNnNG7dYLNuYvVHIz-2kw9hjA9j9bR3Yk6mry0h8mSOMR25AOR6xxb2lAxMOhCKcp3IZH-VT_A28jgT2QyAQJ6Fvsv540JPQivMH_Y5pxZrA64=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Castelo de Pedraza</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkD4d5I4jQ7hHk5F3api64PoSGI6HRERZUcrI5YxXnXZzPlz0nsI8PQDk1ZglZuTmd9YUgZ5cPbuQ7X-V7-6FG-Sn6xqxSjqq3OVtGWw6kJcb3MMix-L9ctbMWtaY9h8Jk2EwUdFUM5b1M3i5dXCtOJlZVh9TybFfXOj5kYCxffjUUjC_oLM2pfTDo=s3861" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2171" data-original-width="3861" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhkD4d5I4jQ7hHk5F3api64PoSGI6HRERZUcrI5YxXnXZzPlz0nsI8PQDk1ZglZuTmd9YUgZ5cPbuQ7X-V7-6FG-Sn6xqxSjqq3OVtGWw6kJcb3MMix-L9ctbMWtaY9h8Jk2EwUdFUM5b1M3i5dXCtOJlZVh9TybFfXOj5kYCxffjUUjC_oLM2pfTDo=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Na Plaza Mayor de Pedraza</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4ip49OYGccHnACiHJBiUi4595gERUyxuMgxjWlyHI7jo-_WZsBE0cG0vP-QgT7oEitS_IRScRo5C3I5lbVW_S3kz02SyM3Sg1n-xhkAvSW2VSNqVFxvYXfMQvDxY-Zawgdhrz_T2IWsyYKUv2rLr4l6PD2_WB2feJe8JJ1FPZX5-6lwuTMXN2VXSC=s3601" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3601" data-original-width="2249" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg4ip49OYGccHnACiHJBiUi4595gERUyxuMgxjWlyHI7jo-_WZsBE0cG0vP-QgT7oEitS_IRScRo5C3I5lbVW_S3kz02SyM3Sg1n-xhkAvSW2VSNqVFxvYXfMQvDxY-Zawgdhrz_T2IWsyYKUv2rLr4l6PD2_WB2feJe8JJ1FPZX5-6lwuTMXN2VXSC=w250-h400" width="250" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A entrada nas muralhas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A paragem seguinte é em Sepúlveda. Trepamos até à igreja da Senhora da Peña, para ver as vistas sobre a região. Daí, avistam-se bem os <i>canyons</i> do rio Duratón, que se prolongam por vários quilómetros. Mesmo de longe, são impressionantes! De Riaza, só ficámos com uma impressão passageira das galerias porticadas da Plaza Mayor, onde parámos para beber água.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgklutks9aSRVL4hVwQ_dIAQUEs2Eis7aqwLT9J09RAnJJ9MIj4Lra0IbSVfmeKH5SqIHDyhn5V_xOZgEcvDrrI3AmOWxnUQ6KO5lJz6YqRIN0P4kr5q3zBChfBCAsjTrSiYEyfcIkWrCsv1oxVudeb5mr5RuIBybjFZE4hn14jxMeLrbZsZXnStF8Y=s3461" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3461" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgklutks9aSRVL4hVwQ_dIAQUEs2Eis7aqwLT9J09RAnJJ9MIj4Lra0IbSVfmeKH5SqIHDyhn5V_xOZgEcvDrrI3AmOWxnUQ6KO5lJz6YqRIN0P4kr5q3zBChfBCAsjTrSiYEyfcIkWrCsv1oxVudeb5mr5RuIBybjFZE4hn14jxMeLrbZsZXnStF8Y=w260-h400" width="260" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Sepúlveda...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhf6Gf31ZMvY8PKJcQCNQ-52wnVFpQN-3SNKkCp7yLVHkPcIVJtkeW22UfCZ_T60iobsRLZa3K1M6D_yNDaulSsdmovgVStNy5DYZUSD_2Kl2HOfqyR3Mzkz8jx4K9e-EuTPMIGaAdHM2WIwpm5nb0OYjqt4QR1JXlBx5gRrRWe4KBfAh5bArmg-65h=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhf6Gf31ZMvY8PKJcQCNQ-52wnVFpQN-3SNKkCp7yLVHkPcIVJtkeW22UfCZ_T60iobsRLZa3K1M6D_yNDaulSsdmovgVStNy5DYZUSD_2Kl2HOfqyR3Mzkz8jx4K9e-EuTPMIGaAdHM2WIwpm5nb0OYjqt4QR1JXlBx5gRrRWe4KBfAh5bArmg-65h=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">... e Riaza</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Viramos para Rio Frio de Riaza e começamos a subir para o maciço do <i>Pico del Lobo Cebollera</i>. Na barragem do Rio Frio ainda se encontra gente, principalmente pescadores. Daí para cima, na direção do <i>Puerto de la Quesera</i>, não se vê vivalma. Somos só nós e a mota. De vez em quando, um ou dois madeireiros, que nos olham com estranheza. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3qbjP492PpKKqZQZNRLZVdPQDhYGBKRFUHQ-4gnPCWz5fAHBXC4ISX13WmRn5JtEbWH1_41K4Uom0OWyjD_9TO9_1alp2Rz5C8R_9HWqDlczoZU8T8wKcC9fyuTJJZO6OTC9Rs4CVtkBemks2xQbid_U8k0XeTirMyDamBjsQiht-YHWvYNpztG_q=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3qbjP492PpKKqZQZNRLZVdPQDhYGBKRFUHQ-4gnPCWz5fAHBXC4ISX13WmRn5JtEbWH1_41K4Uom0OWyjD_9TO9_1alp2Rz5C8R_9HWqDlczoZU8T8wKcC9fyuTJJZO6OTC9Rs4CVtkBemks2xQbid_U8k0XeTirMyDamBjsQiht-YHWvYNpztG_q=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No Puerto de la Quesera</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tinhamos feito um roteiro e procurámos segui-lo mas, como tantas vezes acontece, a certo ponto do percurso um pequeno engano leva-nos a enfrentar as maiores surpresas e os maiores desafios. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Depois do pico, a estrada muda de referência e de aspeto. Os arbustos e o mato invadem a estrada, que se torna cada vez mais estreita, até se transformar num troço de terra batida. Há uma estrada alcatroada que corre ao longo do rio de las Veguillas e seguimos por ela, atravessando uma paisagem fantástica, onde os penhascos de las Veguillas se assemelham a velhos castelos e muralhas em ruínas. De barranco em barranco, no meio daquela paisagem surreal, chegamos ao vale. Objetivamente, estavamos afastados da nossa rota. Realinhámos pela estrada GU194, um caminho rural, com aviso de perigos diversos, como aluimentos de terras, o que me deixou muito tranquila, como se pode calcular. Coloco aqui a referência da estrada porque, apesar do aspeto pouco tranquilizador, a estrada conduz a uma passagem icónica e desafiadora, a Muralla China.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMNCkfWcqxVp6SpDVqUmwac3XAROZrkHn9Tw0XMqYF_oQdN6lf3JedZ-4riPzcZEoYx6m_Qmz49FYIUxivq2_ORw2yDJUD6uw-F9k7i5m0zlfTjcSHTls7griATQ4T2U1ZiE0fkHjUI-dCpAOUrYN3G5t-K_Gnw_6owXiQbAmFfYOibqEtWhyz0Nev=s646" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="484" data-original-width="646" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjMNCkfWcqxVp6SpDVqUmwac3XAROZrkHn9Tw0XMqYF_oQdN6lf3JedZ-4riPzcZEoYx6m_Qmz49FYIUxivq2_ORw2yDJUD6uw-F9k7i5m0zlfTjcSHTls7griATQ4T2U1ZiE0fkHjUI-dCpAOUrYN3G5t-K_Gnw_6owXiQbAmFfYOibqEtWhyz0Nev=w400-h300" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O difícil troço da Muralla China</span><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Foto tirada do site</span> <a href="https://santymozos.wordpress.com/tag/muralla-china/">https://santymozos.wordpress.com/tag/muralla-china/</a><p class="MsoNormal"><o:p></o:p></p></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A Muralla China ou, como alguns também a chamam, a Tortura China, é uma estrada que faz a passagem do rio Jaramillo. A descida para o rio, assim como a subida, do lado oposto, apresenta um declive acentuadíssimo, com curvas apertadas e rampas com um desnível que chega a atingir os 19%. Para permitir a passagem dos automóveis, ou máquinas agrícolas, em épocas de chuva e gelo, a estrada não é de alcatrão, mas sim de cimento arranhado; este piso garante uma maior adesão dos pneus mas faz um barulho que, associado à própria dificuldade da estrada, dá cabo do sistema nervoso. Confesso que achei várias vezes que a mota se ía desfazer em bocadinhos. Mas lá vencemos a Muralha China! Já fizemos estradas e passos de montanha icónicos mas, para mim, este foi o mais desafiador! A preocupação fez-me esquecer as fotos e por isso, ao contrário do que costumo fazer neste blogue, a fotografia que aqui incluí foi retirada da internet e coloco-a com os respetivos créditos.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZy1kNSXwwM9TN0dgZVgzA6SBwcJLlQn5VlhUtTE6gX0YOdXDieCHM2J2pqYqKAc3XSjcawYCGQLfCvLjkUSfZBy_garfUNN0B_HiRjnRyNWPwAuXOh2PvinTE9Oev51psGhjd-pL9MNXZk0i-VMU6XnJbdcQ34EkOe2W2JgBfkgwmmlyoLxQN6O8d=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhZy1kNSXwwM9TN0dgZVgzA6SBwcJLlQn5VlhUtTE6gX0YOdXDieCHM2J2pqYqKAc3XSjcawYCGQLfCvLjkUSfZBy_garfUNN0B_HiRjnRyNWPwAuXOh2PvinTE9Oev51psGhjd-pL9MNXZk0i-VMU6XnJbdcQ34EkOe2W2JgBfkgwmmlyoLxQN6O8d=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Montejo de la Sierra</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Vencido o rio Jaramillo e chegados ao Mirador de Corralejo, tudo começou a melhorar. Rolamos por entre altos bosques de pinheiros, pelo meio da Reserva da Biosfera de Montejo de la Sierra. A chegada a Buitrago del Lozoya pareceu-nos uma conquista e festejámos com um bom almoço e umas belas <i>cañas.</i></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O almoço em Buitrago e o calor tornam-nos preguiçosos. Ao lado das muralhas do castelo, o rio Lozoya espraia-se numa albufeira. As margens pedregosas, mas com sombra, convidam ao descanso. E ali ficamos, com os pés na água, à espera que o calor passe, para grande animação de alguns lagostins do rio que vêm confraternizar connosco.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdlkfT7wbHMH-b4TahQr3tp4aCKAsOY7Yq5BAvLsWhE1FGrd_dZXb2xmU6Ldc9xOii3HtnhKK648-aOT9G841v1KEu9BXT5PDbELCZDMWFB96HShWgMs0W_FjaPnkl_tY2e40fSbzRLWqH1IwY7ycsYSPMgOFtmwBWESCZl7ceUvqoxOfjXkoKGCFH=s3802" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2182" data-original-width="3802" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhdlkfT7wbHMH-b4TahQr3tp4aCKAsOY7Yq5BAvLsWhE1FGrd_dZXb2xmU6Ldc9xOii3HtnhKK648-aOT9G841v1KEu9BXT5PDbELCZDMWFB96HShWgMs0W_FjaPnkl_tY2e40fSbzRLWqH1IwY7ycsYSPMgOFtmwBWESCZl7ceUvqoxOfjXkoKGCFH=w400-h230" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O rio Lozoya</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjoiQyFg07QIenJ_Gyf9upT0pLr5WxJMVRF7l0wXTJTGeNaekoUdxcMCtImUzZQRu9puA_puYKS3NYnILhwxIT1TsDjUOL4KvuB18S9f_XUAs48VD3A2oD-kIOGn-vDuEBpbRyhjznQTUOmpM8-mAYzpU28S-IExy04R9MUvz9HZaHb8-HKp9ryGMuk=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjoiQyFg07QIenJ_Gyf9upT0pLr5WxJMVRF7l0wXTJTGeNaekoUdxcMCtImUzZQRu9puA_puYKS3NYnILhwxIT1TsDjUOL4KvuB18S9f_XUAs48VD3A2oD-kIOGn-vDuEBpbRyhjznQTUOmpM8-mAYzpU28S-IExy04R9MUvz9HZaHb8-HKp9ryGMuk=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A albufeira do rio Lozoya</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A última jornada do dia leva-nos ainda à travessia do Puerto de Navafria (M637 e SG612). Foram quilómetros de bosques magníficos, de altos pinheiros de troncos esguios, numa paisagem encantada. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No dia seguinte, fizemos as nossas despedidas da Serra de Guadarrama. A primeira paragem foi no Palácio Real da Granja de Santo Ildefonso, que o rei Filipe V mandou construir para ser o "seu" Versalhes... Ter uma imitação do Palácio de Versalhes tornou-se uma espécie de obsessão dos reis absolutistas por esta Europa fora...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkzdtjFrjDST7rRlE-nI0qWur0JKJcCkj6oyWnTUGyiO_Fd9XOW8lY-WxsbviX2GquVYNDz89FmRf3cGMzSh997zLI6rUR6av75s7dChboTxTfvmDov0nwxNo9IltXA6U_g9RzsiZ37-BL-eiflpRF7pxDbmXLI9sSUgo0gDUpKS3nHtdvyMwZH0cJ=s3908" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3908" data-original-width="2198" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgkzdtjFrjDST7rRlE-nI0qWur0JKJcCkj6oyWnTUGyiO_Fd9XOW8lY-WxsbviX2GquVYNDz89FmRf3cGMzSh997zLI6rUR6av75s7dChboTxTfvmDov0nwxNo9IltXA6U_g9RzsiZ37-BL-eiflpRF7pxDbmXLI9sSUgo0gDUpKS3nHtdvyMwZH0cJ=w225-h400" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Palácio Real da Granja de Santo Ildefonso</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Depois, o dia foi passado a rodar pelas estradas da Serra de Guadarrama, estradas lindas, bem lançadas, com bom piso, no meio de bosques e prados. A estrada M601, que passa pelo alto de Navacerrada, é das mais icónicas. É uma bela estrada de montanha, que passa ao lado de alguns dos picos mais altos da serra, como o Pico de Peñalara. Roda-se bem, estas estradas não têm comparação com as do outro lado da serra, o lado pobre, o lado inóspito. O lado desafiador.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A última paragem é no Puerto de la Cruz Verde, no Mirador de Angel Nieto. Aí se presta homenagem aos motociclistas que cruzam as estradas da Serra de Guadarrama, através do nome de um grande corredor, Angel Nieto, vencedor de 13 prémios em provas de motociclismo... Ou de 12+1, como ele próprio, supersticioso, gostava de dizer.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia5k3sIFubAW2at0NMi1m_7iHFKUEDpRXr_Cq6fSctwf6jnbwFrBlzAwE2MfEVodK-kcjRmka8GY5QjFxlmj7GQvXTcZxHDYj9JMik7mZvLSBFk1MAkBQ28l91tRkyRq_4yA-a2cx649MziHWNi-Qtgfq4t5VK_fiRwlmO_ziYDtW2eqDZFlUV1XAM=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEia5k3sIFubAW2at0NMi1m_7iHFKUEDpRXr_Cq6fSctwf6jnbwFrBlzAwE2MfEVodK-kcjRmka8GY5QjFxlmj7GQvXTcZxHDYj9JMik7mZvLSBFk1MAkBQ28l91tRkyRq_4yA-a2cx649MziHWNi-Qtgfq4t5VK_fiRwlmO_ziYDtW2eqDZFlUV1XAM=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No Mirador Angel Nieto...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiH_kCCndIL6mJyZIfU-E1v7G4JY82OB05xIg6_EmxVDdJMSUMw3_AlyXdSdO0UH8AdCTLzeRSgdlk05ucxNOEenU5Sg8Q3Fh6VhgoniJER4TG2pTUxYFCHQwxQmeuhIXeJfnFjPvdgHwhcJAa-3VWzinZT5dYGJHhvfVu5tpKu62V_aDR6wdSQx3A=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgiH_kCCndIL6mJyZIfU-E1v7G4JY82OB05xIg6_EmxVDdJMSUMw3_AlyXdSdO0UH8AdCTLzeRSgdlk05ucxNOEenU5Sg8Q3Fh6VhgoniJER4TG2pTUxYFCHQwxQmeuhIXeJfnFjPvdgHwhcJAa-3VWzinZT5dYGJHhvfVu5tpKu62V_aDR6wdSQx3A=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">... a homenagem aos motociclistas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Voltamos a subir para a mota e viramos as costas a estas estradas encantadas. A próxima paragem é a nossa casa.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><i><br /></i></p><p> </p></div>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-3360290776725510842022-02-13T17:39:00.000+00:002022-02-13T17:39:43.075+00:00De mota pelas serras de Almanzor - Valle de los Caídos e Segóvia<p style="text-align: justify;"> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCRBoFsE6hkSsuaa7phHRiAK9s9165r5xtirzrffH2cgM9fYU4Y0dBuq4-gw2WBsQ3MvbHiwsuby0MFF7N97GADtIxatdrkkpAFhpo4WNLSZ6YDMcwtd8LujWGABSfV__himnPOQAro7-5H8dMiQoKXInE1yk24KfNSPZqBrhwSb9W0W7C9J076vye=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgCRBoFsE6hkSsuaa7phHRiAK9s9165r5xtirzrffH2cgM9fYU4Y0dBuq4-gw2WBsQ3MvbHiwsuby0MFF7N97GADtIxatdrkkpAFhpo4WNLSZ6YDMcwtd8LujWGABSfV__himnPOQAro7-5H8dMiQoKXInE1yk24KfNSPZqBrhwSb9W0W7C9J076vye=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O aqueduto romano de Segóvia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Começamos o dia com a paragem junto ao El Escorial, o grandioso palácio mandado construir por Filipe II. Rodeamos o enorme quadrilátero, de decoração austera e despojada. Tínhamos já decidido não o visitar. Ambos o tinhamos já visitado e não queríamos perder ali tanto tempo. Em viagem, há que fazer opções!...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGgvSecBgTN37tilG78CXFFZpkRZ2SMCVEXazC7FLLRClQ4gcfVc28PtnuPvBU-hFb9YuGUbwGU3t7mochEZQDoIWZR7B6Hd-FTwvC0BtecYx_fsm0FWg2K6hExhvqflo4RUBVkVlJZesh7Esvf_Pf4n1oyoGQh_lKZ9wmrSP2sAS2cx8QHbPTYy3-=s3697" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2040" data-original-width="3697" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgGgvSecBgTN37tilG78CXFFZpkRZ2SMCVEXazC7FLLRClQ4gcfVc28PtnuPvBU-hFb9YuGUbwGU3t7mochEZQDoIWZR7B6Hd-FTwvC0BtecYx_fsm0FWg2K6hExhvqflo4RUBVkVlJZesh7Esvf_Pf4n1oyoGQh_lKZ9wmrSP2sAS2cx8QHbPTYy3-=w400-h221" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">El Escorial, um palácio austero</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Continuamos pelo Vale dos Caídos, o grande monumento mandado construir pelo General Franco em memória dos soldados nacionalistas que perderam a vida na Guerra Civil de Espanha. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQDftV20DeBGcDIUI0WZVeJkfUBDavjoJkNxNBW5Cp98howY0LDTlPbRVDAdUegUqxpNF_Uj39BBUrPJekC9sG7gaHa9qKgD8feUs8zbw28y-st7cvSQxZZ3klSuZe0gTcOJt5TSXif4D2pgJfXdGDodR_Gudl5YOLdPKk11qZZ7Ox1EqVVbXFsf3U=s3847" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3847" data-original-width="2164" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhQDftV20DeBGcDIUI0WZVeJkfUBDavjoJkNxNBW5Cp98howY0LDTlPbRVDAdUegUqxpNF_Uj39BBUrPJekC9sG7gaHa9qKgD8feUs8zbw28y-st7cvSQxZZ3klSuZe0gTcOJt5TSXif4D2pgJfXdGDodR_Gudl5YOLdPKk11qZZ7Ox1EqVVbXFsf3U=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada da abadia escavada na rocha</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRRfIuoh8gmKhQMSHM23lnsvZur9zBTWzlUeaKG3YEhPNOFqm0eRjEBWKk2cCUuXxnQQw1GjVM9S82GMqn3yteKyYXcHBo622YB0qjZlZ0OLuEEvPVuhzBAr6DTTB9tZI_b_6-xufuRKpKVtw9oF2NIag3au4S-rtZMv4aTQ2J3mVoJQKvqBcHYCPt=s3896" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2057" data-original-width="3896" height="211" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiRRfIuoh8gmKhQMSHM23lnsvZur9zBTWzlUeaKG3YEhPNOFqm0eRjEBWKk2cCUuXxnQQw1GjVM9S82GMqn3yteKyYXcHBo622YB0qjZlZ0OLuEEvPVuhzBAr6DTTB9tZI_b_6-xufuRKpKVtw9oF2NIag3au4S-rtZMv4aTQ2J3mVoJQKvqBcHYCPt=w400-h211" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A grande esplanada fronteira à abadia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Ambos já ali tinhamos estado também, mas eu estava curiosa àcerca do estado do monumento, fechado na sequência da polémica sobre a localização do túmulo de Franco. Agora reabriu. O funicular está encerrado, pelo que não se pode subir à Santa Cruz.Todas as zonas de apoio ao visitante, à exceção das casas de banho, estão fechadas. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNKbyHjVSAF6tfG8ljpssLNgo9BByJZ0KIMGwoV2ODxcLVyoyfr916wkLV4bs5qU2IA6u5Y7JUAuupirh6-a9Al0l2kRI0d9FClivluCy5gVOlSI_ydVmfzd0P3gk-_f9IfKTtuIBQZFLzJcPQhNeROE_SCq_RytaUvNwM7QNpUNc3DyzSjvnhfvYH=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhNKbyHjVSAF6tfG8ljpssLNgo9BByJZ0KIMGwoV2ODxcLVyoyfr916wkLV4bs5qU2IA6u5Y7JUAuupirh6-a9Al0l2kRI0d9FClivluCy5gVOlSI_ydVmfzd0P3gk-_f9IfKTtuIBQZFLzJcPQhNeROE_SCq_RytaUvNwM7QNpUNc3DyzSjvnhfvYH=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O funicular está encerrado</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Há um ar geral de abandono. Todavia, os turistas continuam a ser muitos. A basílica, com os seus 265 metros de comprimento escavados na rocha, os seus enormes arcanjos armados e as figuras de encapuçados sem rosto que flanqueiam a nave, continuam a ser impressionantes. O túmulo de Franco foi removido, mas a placa de inauguração da basílica, datada de 1959, continua afixada na parede, fazendo a apologia do ditador e do significado do monumento! E o túmulo de José António Primo de Rivera, o antecessor de Franco, o criador da Falange, continua no altar-mor, coberto de flores frescas...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpBHi3tV8uo5stVGV-Ndo_Qwt-u7KIyE5dPzSjmsSA_pHJ59ouNuLBQwN2r1sNk9gg9nVcfY7UZCIZkF4BkigfzlEPEEQXQaHrmDE0Q5yO2xgtga_Bc_jquBRZfVJ4IqWRI5YVgCs3wliE0_6Ffos65g8Hs1S5P6mGX5syS2FZtwmaZW_7kt14LVok=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgpBHi3tV8uo5stVGV-Ndo_Qwt-u7KIyE5dPzSjmsSA_pHJ59ouNuLBQwN2r1sNk9gg9nVcfY7UZCIZkF4BkigfzlEPEEQXQaHrmDE0Q5yO2xgtga_Bc_jquBRZfVJ4IqWRI5YVgCs3wliE0_6Ffos65g8Hs1S5P6mGX5syS2FZtwmaZW_7kt14LVok=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Sobre a abadia, a Santa Cruz</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Rumamos a Segóvia. Tinhamos decidido entrar em Segóvia pelo lado ocidental, para ter a perspetiva do Alcazar que só daí se pode obter. Para isso, tivemos de passar pelo parque do Palácio Real de Rio Frio e pagar uma portagem! Mas valeu a pena. O Alcazar de Segóvia avista-se no alto do penhasco como um castelo encantado, sem dúvida um dos mais bonitos de Espanha.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBNdDvoIpVemj2_HU_wzXqvM1znyVuJ3y23xgBAj10GpvlG5dwd8pUqvhS4EqYwkDOdY_DwWyUbwk63EvrwWTmb8011xLF4ltCUcwla81INU3CQaZvEUCXj6qwqIdFFUntLsXwsaT6YquejHTO5vjXNFPihSh_nKFqDut1NhNAxRerqLQ2UY9F2UNJ=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgBNdDvoIpVemj2_HU_wzXqvM1znyVuJ3y23xgBAj10GpvlG5dwd8pUqvhS4EqYwkDOdY_DwWyUbwk63EvrwWTmb8011xLF4ltCUcwla81INU3CQaZvEUCXj6qwqIdFFUntLsXwsaT6YquejHTO5vjXNFPihSh_nKFqDut1NhNAxRerqLQ2UY9F2UNJ=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Alcazar de Segóvia, visto do lado ocidental</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Segóvia é uma cidade magnífica, com muitos séculos de História e de animação. Organiza-se de uma forma alongada, entre o penhasco do Alcazar e o Aqueduto Romano, que cruza o vale adjacente. Pelo meio, um conjunto de ruas estreitas, semeadas de igrejas mas também de muitas referências ligadas à comunidade judaica, antes da sua expulsão. Velhas casas, entre becos e balcões, carregadas de histórias pungentes. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgghaEqAgp1OrqANc324Ibj5ILDPLRvO7CilnjcLHuIpdG6Ch9dTgJR3VpZSV66HJbpnMRagLU6b-2_AmApNAui5t6bL6qrxjQBXRZZnKL5_Ih7l0tUum7D2aGXsqRSiPz8gBmHdAlHJ70SRAGzYEj4LZ_FDYSCiCcQQTQi-96kCEDmLSXaPumChF29=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgghaEqAgp1OrqANc324Ibj5ILDPLRvO7CilnjcLHuIpdG6Ch9dTgJR3VpZSV66HJbpnMRagLU6b-2_AmApNAui5t6bL6qrxjQBXRZZnKL5_Ih7l0tUum7D2aGXsqRSiPz8gBmHdAlHJ70SRAGzYEj4LZ_FDYSCiCcQQTQi-96kCEDmLSXaPumChF29=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A zona antiga da cidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBRcv3t1kzO0mP6xtzNdHF-Mofss044NwtIaGmqAOQIoUmVOl-0uAp9vwqc5EUz1OU6FEbH5u9si67z64J9UkLb24E2PmTEs3r9UQvrdt9LFS7shacrFAwj3oQoKUjFbGURAsIYqrtageUv-gBnBTcwQu3bU1EsYuxIpm95emOK1BVqr1pbl6IxUWK=s2664" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2664" data-original-width="2038" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjBRcv3t1kzO0mP6xtzNdHF-Mofss044NwtIaGmqAOQIoUmVOl-0uAp9vwqc5EUz1OU6FEbH5u9si67z64J9UkLb24E2PmTEs3r9UQvrdt9LFS7shacrFAwj3oQoKUjFbGURAsIYqrtageUv-gBnBTcwQu3bU1EsYuxIpm95emOK1BVqr1pbl6IxUWK=w306-h400" width="306" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O largo da catedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6BzpaFjj4rZNcTj1tkw9OxOyNw6Nw5CD7OdVmNqGmReWbKYGaVQYd5TJZfDRuBSKZSq0FuZ_TCqs1m72rQ5rFh93ztCTUgP7hg9BQp0Lf9_kGYZ1xk4mgbo8xeiKZ85GUb4Rav1TqcQDjUYhICbcwK_sVCRd2HKstQNRCCXjISS9rDFrwaO5Nt3vA=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg6BzpaFjj4rZNcTj1tkw9OxOyNw6Nw5CD7OdVmNqGmReWbKYGaVQYd5TJZfDRuBSKZSq0FuZ_TCqs1m72rQ5rFh93ztCTUgP7hg9BQp0Lf9_kGYZ1xk4mgbo8xeiKZ85GUb4Rav1TqcQDjUYhICbcwK_sVCRd2HKstQNRCCXjISS9rDFrwaO5Nt3vA=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Caminho dos Suspiros...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O rei da zona alta da cidade é o Alcazar. Construído entre os séculos XII e XV, entre as preocupações militares da Reconquista e a riqueza da corte castelhana, reflete a alma desses séculos de grandes mudanças. É uma fortaleza e, ao mesmo tempo, um castelo de conto de fadas. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkU3fGMziDrt_geKd3YVtzp5s4FUdxufkVoAprKTIkmOTk7X90g_-mopaHQTiPofun4anlMhNivihnoMPTy8YU5aAzP9a4PAA3AVtVXc3r62h2lNfcQElnXCXD98EFyerxqujBgszDqJ3l8_Zw7WtfniIrSZkoFSLvPC1IUQYtWdZS19ujvx0nqUa3=s3972" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2193" data-original-width="3972" height="221" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjkU3fGMziDrt_geKd3YVtzp5s4FUdxufkVoAprKTIkmOTk7X90g_-mopaHQTiPofun4anlMhNivihnoMPTy8YU5aAzP9a4PAA3AVtVXc3r62h2lNfcQElnXCXD98EFyerxqujBgszDqJ3l8_Zw7WtfniIrSZkoFSLvPC1IUQYtWdZS19ujvx0nqUa3=w400-h221" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Alcazar de Segóvia, visto do lado da cidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O Alcazar está muito ligado a Isabel de Castela, que aí viveu e casou com Fernando de Aragão. As salas deste período estão decoradas com grande beleza. No entanto, os pináculos afilados das torres, que lhe dão um aspeto tão característico, são do reinado de Filipe II.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYPIYSZIMK9VKHfxvKc1wuMrpSLfAr_ntVDwjWbQ2RBaQtM-orAUMJN9YZzLoZX3b_lXQYcR5XrLAdhVnLZcjWv4cA3sMhmRLlKQf5L60Vv0TLi5D4T8kIujEENqyhBiWmTZ9tGngSPhaXcAI-Lf5mMEisB6xgWUDHOVAkPiUAvQc5qlBwrk6k7Me0=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjYPIYSZIMK9VKHfxvKc1wuMrpSLfAr_ntVDwjWbQ2RBaQtM-orAUMJN9YZzLoZX3b_lXQYcR5XrLAdhVnLZcjWv4cA3sMhmRLlKQf5L60Vv0TLi5D4T8kIujEENqyhBiWmTZ9tGngSPhaXcAI-Lf5mMEisB6xgWUDHOVAkPiUAvQc5qlBwrk6k7Me0=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pormenor dos candeeiros fronteiros ao Alcazar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQDvTtMoCtgoSTtdkUn0zWH4TCsdi9UXtiWZMSzUMi2-t3QbKLYOW6UFE_wAu1VBAwBACk34uXoHw-5MSkPBUG-qH6byf4Tr14AJN4qHTPKpI02H4JHD8qT6va1PQAc5uL2r0wBdrWVI5YFxNl9eHYEGCiBUMUIjKVQQeRxPsLZphCJTYe1UYRrI0v=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjQDvTtMoCtgoSTtdkUn0zWH4TCsdi9UXtiWZMSzUMi2-t3QbKLYOW6UFE_wAu1VBAwBACk34uXoHw-5MSkPBUG-qH6byf4Tr14AJN4qHTPKpI02H4JHD8qT6va1PQAc5uL2r0wBdrWVI5YFxNl9eHYEGCiBUMUIjKVQQeRxPsLZphCJTYe1UYRrI0v=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Mais um belo candeeiro, no largo do Alcazar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A zona comercial de Segóvia é mais moderna e muito animada. A maioria das ruas são pedonais e podemos observar à vontade as casas que a rodeiam, como a belíssima Igreja de San Martin, ou a Casa dos Diamantes, que rivaliza com a nossa Casa dos Bicos. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitoWeIky1z5mjSo2dd3g5CshHzddx02KQpPfhKv7R2oRz0UbVHPHt1PyLsSnJr3R8nY4A5vWcn09msoVfl05K9hgYm5l5gt_0aY1pYL8T1WBCTunhMTGwrcasPEesT1IlbPLp_m9PNtJwjjeFVo1xKT7vCM2HI4T9j2kFZOkr2eOFNBIs1p9OygHrZ=s3333" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3333" data-original-width="2234" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEitoWeIky1z5mjSo2dd3g5CshHzddx02KQpPfhKv7R2oRz0UbVHPHt1PyLsSnJr3R8nY4A5vWcn09msoVfl05K9hgYm5l5gt_0aY1pYL8T1WBCTunhMTGwrcasPEesT1IlbPLp_m9PNtJwjjeFVo1xKT7vCM2HI4T9j2kFZOkr2eOFNBIs1p9OygHrZ=w268-h400" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Zona pedonal</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4LB4bfvg0wUB3kWSivYAadtnpyq7S4xXLiEnvsEPMY9q5bX4uGHQmLZO1vjWez_DOuGqKCR56JyPic0le9WiuyDgS2ZYK3GEY4fX_-NI0c_GIwo9K0aYDJsIr5IEktM94kGEBLSTxR_aTNoF5vG1fP1SGWOL6IDyNqo_uqSuoqZUgnra6l_AcXVQU=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi4LB4bfvg0wUB3kWSivYAadtnpyq7S4xXLiEnvsEPMY9q5bX4uGHQmLZO1vjWez_DOuGqKCR56JyPic0le9WiuyDgS2ZYK3GEY4fX_-NI0c_GIwo9K0aYDJsIr5IEktM94kGEBLSTxR_aTNoF5vG1fP1SGWOL6IDyNqo_uqSuoqZUgnra6l_AcXVQU=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Igreja de San Martin</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJCXqp6Vo2pdpR5zrmxMe5HkmOc2PtHpP35nuOqUL3uPHiRv6Mj_Kv3Hq4gG2B6k9gm7j5yCcHC77plG-YL2f0TtZ-2hkaAoJpCFDQAh2iUpjgcigK7-Fri6xyB_ZHY6y-1Bv_a9zsq9hoDkmTNwbdemnhfv67arzDR6qzlnMIM6Q2CgL-3SvuixEz=s3752" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2149" data-original-width="3752" height="229" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjJCXqp6Vo2pdpR5zrmxMe5HkmOc2PtHpP35nuOqUL3uPHiRv6Mj_Kv3Hq4gG2B6k9gm7j5yCcHC77plG-YL2f0TtZ-2hkaAoJpCFDQAh2iUpjgcigK7-Fri6xyB_ZHY6y-1Bv_a9zsq9hoDkmTNwbdemnhfv67arzDR6qzlnMIM6Q2CgL-3SvuixEz=w400-h229" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Casa de los Diamantes</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas a zona mais animada é a que rodeia o velho Aqueduto. Mesmo que já o tivessemos visto centenas de vezes em fotografias, a sua imponência surpreende sempre. É uma obra de engenharia admirável. Dois mil anos depois, ali se mantém, com as suas fileiras de arcos elegantes e ainda eficientes no eterno trabalho de levar à cidade a água oriunda da Serra de Guadarrama. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIquChYoNuGvz9RLE-ZDA8yoDXFmpfzquNR50JfkZTJ-rMqGjDGW-oUKU_GLPYpndeioc7U-SuU55pqAi2eifjZLTWEzvgFFaujsjVB-8JZiRblxuKNnhBGYEKy5O0S8O1JAt0xLvkcVUSMx3WQ1h6jpg1jyXzzxQ3-Z7l8fSrvq3hou0jP1GisvYS=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhIquChYoNuGvz9RLE-ZDA8yoDXFmpfzquNR50JfkZTJ-rMqGjDGW-oUKU_GLPYpndeioc7U-SuU55pqAi2eifjZLTWEzvgFFaujsjVB-8JZiRblxuKNnhBGYEKy5O0S8O1JAt0xLvkcVUSMx3WQ1h6jpg1jyXzzxQ3-Z7l8fSrvq3hou0jP1GisvYS=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A grande praça sob o aqueduto</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYqh6hg-3moIwPIrP8wTuxDpD40wjatNSFUCVyvwMDR-cX8CtUUuhyJxjnYML7Uhx2vzLd8Q7QFafYKFr4Dbkf3oq6doJKkUUZJv0SJq4ImRmf8MkmDagy1HXxeKmGEaYq8xm37apxan37ug_UXo5LfI2spa1cOW_Ihi-7Eim88oveCyyP77wIUSRI=s2970" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2970" data-original-width="1975" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgYqh6hg-3moIwPIrP8wTuxDpD40wjatNSFUCVyvwMDR-cX8CtUUuhyJxjnYML7Uhx2vzLd8Q7QFafYKFr4Dbkf3oq6doJKkUUZJv0SJq4ImRmf8MkmDagy1HXxeKmGEaYq8xm37apxan37ug_UXo5LfI2spa1cOW_Ihi-7Eim88oveCyyP77wIUSRI=w266-h400" width="266" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Caminho da Água continua dentro das muralhas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Na zona mais alta, podemos seguir no chão o chamado Caminho da Água, que assinala o percurso subterrâneo do aqueduto. Mas é no vale, no enorme largo sob os arcos do aqueduto, que a ligação entre o passado e o presente é mais viva. À sombra do velho monumento romano multiplicam-se as esplanadas, come-se o <i>cochinillo</i>, bebem-se cervejas ou o vinho fresco da região, descansam-se os pés moídos, namora-se, tiram-se fotografias...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhz2pnkIF_gXsqe-Uy1QkrcMKRpRv5SY4wNUyYVsnhMmu3X9hlm_MFeqFHQHD3YQBi1tiwz3d8KgGm_XmZUutPGX2baTvTTEqCzlPAEw863Lujgh_HwkMdh4gOsGAuEGvNBomxruKIF1ChVfhfsKUlXjkie_r8WjI77UdqmcOYsFFEso1g5ytHv51C7=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhz2pnkIF_gXsqe-Uy1QkrcMKRpRv5SY4wNUyYVsnhMmu3X9hlm_MFeqFHQHD3YQBi1tiwz3d8KgGm_XmZUutPGX2baTvTTEqCzlPAEw863Lujgh_HwkMdh4gOsGAuEGvNBomxruKIF1ChVfhfsKUlXjkie_r8WjI77UdqmcOYsFFEso1g5ytHv51C7=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Ao entardecer...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Decidimos logo ali que temos de voltar a Segóvia, nem que seja apenas para ir comer o <i>cochinillo </i>ao Don Jimeno, que estava fechado, logo hoje!...</span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-22038586355869575522022-01-13T17:26:00.002+00:002022-02-11T12:49:25.356+00:00De mota pelas Serras de Almanzor - Dos povoados serranos à planura de Ávila<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAhyPDpPA4KjyJcDTVfKep5ooOw1JE2Gnu_4LqLaNjmMIhmpN4f2AYkG5VonTo-yoMOM7_s1A5DiMSARUFbfa2sVuwQL1EdwcUKUDPJ8cLzaBvC_7cjSrdVo3NfypXaaG0G26bb7B1TcHGBwzmFQg9HH3VoZs9dE89DRqhuRIvrzG3EZlR4YtxCP7_=s3664" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1905" data-original-width="3664" height="208" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiAhyPDpPA4KjyJcDTVfKep5ooOw1JE2Gnu_4LqLaNjmMIhmpN4f2AYkG5VonTo-yoMOM7_s1A5DiMSARUFbfa2sVuwQL1EdwcUKUDPJ8cLzaBvC_7cjSrdVo3NfypXaaG0G26bb7B1TcHGBwzmFQg9HH3VoZs9dE89DRqhuRIvrzG3EZlR4YtxCP7_=w400-h208" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Por dentro das muralhas de Ávila</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;"> <span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Saímos de Mogarraz na direção das serranias. As estradas são magníficas, em muito bom estado, com curvas bem lançadas. Os castanheiros e os carvalhos sucedem-se em pequenos bosques, com o chão atapetado de fetos. Como avançamos acima dos mil metros, a temperatura não é muito elevada e rola-se bem. A paisagem compensa...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0rddVQNjMyX1Wdb5145JsquNrn618jPJD1CnJ0--OzXY9w4dWg04F4XIv-0uvqlf09TEzr5DXFYB9awAwUYIawAs7z87ECCeCTzm4RbNw6pv9Bhm12Y8M557R2UbFaeIYLOg7UDza8379tdrwRl3jOLXwG_k_jcpLM4KuEqGQfALB4MJ8HfYobfB5=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj0rddVQNjMyX1Wdb5145JsquNrn618jPJD1CnJ0--OzXY9w4dWg04F4XIv-0uvqlf09TEzr5DXFYB9awAwUYIawAs7z87ECCeCTzm4RbNw6pv9Bhm12Y8M557R2UbFaeIYLOg7UDza8379tdrwRl3jOLXwG_k_jcpLM4KuEqGQfALB4MJ8HfYobfB5=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um povoado na serra...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdFJ8zQfqsmYofuht9NKszl3kofguSuBeidSy3LxUMGOzA6yojj4Jqjpmk6BF1968kU0WED3bGoIYdkGKKluyL1tGyxnIra3pooq1xuKHKKiR1aLbRPmUt_oRyavSd4vEZBqtjPVBE1S9pWPKsXvfDExv78tnY0cXxYwY6kYT1XBBlIYgJ7xcKZ_zm=s3568" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3568" data-original-width="2233" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjdFJ8zQfqsmYofuht9NKszl3kofguSuBeidSy3LxUMGOzA6yojj4Jqjpmk6BF1968kU0WED3bGoIYdkGKKluyL1tGyxnIra3pooq1xuKHKKiR1aLbRPmUt_oRyavSd4vEZBqtjPVBE1S9pWPKsXvfDExv78tnY0cXxYwY6kYT1XBBlIYgJ7xcKZ_zm=w250-h400" width="250" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Porta na muralha de Miranda del Castañar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A primeira paragem é em Miranda del Castañar. Construída sobre um promontório rochoso da Sierra de Francia, mantém um ar de povoado medieval. Ruas estreitas, casas de alvenaria e madeira, dentro de uma muralha ainda imponente. Deambulamos um pouco pelas ruas que cercam o castelo. É cedo ainda, as lojas começam a abrir preguiçosamente as portas. Temos as ruas só para nós. Miranda del Castañar pertence à rede das Aldeias mais bonitas de Espanha, como outros povoados que vamos explorar nesta viagem. Merece bem a distinção.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD6FuHh1ftFMeUz34xGBpOn_cUulOBcjylY3Akvu2sfwbTDPBr4hv63opPYVTjWNHsWD0vOHJbrz_IxqJgMOx3jiMB6wtCQelZFc7ZdlJRMP2h0WvFnJgDHQM4aWUcQZQqhNO9g-NP3U7U4O6piZLcDjUVRyMTbZMLSYSYVpSrZ_uNg2CeIy8YhCIY=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiD6FuHh1ftFMeUz34xGBpOn_cUulOBcjylY3Akvu2sfwbTDPBr4hv63opPYVTjWNHsWD0vOHJbrz_IxqJgMOx3jiMB6wtCQelZFc7ZdlJRMP2h0WvFnJgDHQM4aWUcQZQqhNO9g-NP3U7U4O6piZLcDjUVRyMTbZMLSYSYVpSrZ_uNg2CeIy8YhCIY=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Rua Direita de Miranda del Castañar</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Seguimos para Béjar, situada num promontório e circundada pelo rio Tormes. Ao contrário da cidade anterior, que parece ter ficado parada no tempo, Béjar teve desenvolvimento industrial e vêem-se muitas fábricas de lanifícios nas margens do rio. Infelizmente, a zona tem um ar de abandono. Hoje, parece-me que a maior riqueza de Béjar está nas estações de esqui que animam os invernos na serra.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTxcv1wqat3xd9AYsYnJepYyHF-qEiJVE9XiDuZL6w3hz_fRTBEsxuYnBgcIWpHzvxPALLuFmxg8gNwAJQnunIz-6pCSU5JNO1OJKHzA8qkVdKd61t-CGmNHK_mxlSVnXIJn5wWp_EJH29oibAkzeH5FFxTSiI9A9FjQO1Idcng-UZDC_tAA59LKZl=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgTxcv1wqat3xd9AYsYnJepYyHF-qEiJVE9XiDuZL6w3hz_fRTBEsxuYnBgcIWpHzvxPALLuFmxg8gNwAJQnunIz-6pCSU5JNO1OJKHzA8qkVdKd61t-CGmNHK_mxlSVnXIJn5wWp_EJH29oibAkzeH5FFxTSiI9A9FjQO1Idcng-UZDC_tAA59LKZl=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Béjar, no alto da serra</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Béjar tem um centro histórico interessante, que vale a pena percorrer. No centro, destaca-se o Palácio Ducal, de traço renascentista. Anunciam aí uma "camara oscura" mas, com alguma pena, não tenho tempo para a explorar.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7RUojundaaIHOYst9BkLnXzNs1cRUXG2KzMd52mBYMt76lKW61UNnJUwXAi9Qog244Wx6O-MITx6HT42feOH5sgpYgXewL7qmx_yeYXUgmhwbgfiSkY8_dcLMuwaDdF4vjKEtlMMzsLgMZgjP4zTOrNKq9Y3IcyLCtrB20vgFqx3EGhjra5kWswTz=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEg7RUojundaaIHOYst9BkLnXzNs1cRUXG2KzMd52mBYMt76lKW61UNnJUwXAi9Qog244Wx6O-MITx6HT42feOH5sgpYgXewL7qmx_yeYXUgmhwbgfiSkY8_dcLMuwaDdF4vjKEtlMMzsLgMZgjP4zTOrNKq9Y3IcyLCtrB20vgFqx3EGhjra5kWswTz=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Palácio Ducal</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Passamos da Serra de Francia para a Serra de Béjar e Candelario. Fazem parte do mesmo maciço montanhoso, que se estende até Gredos e Guadarrama para leste, e até à nossa Serra da Estrela para oeste. O ponto mais alto é o Pico Almanzor, que ainda avistamos à nossa direita, lá ao longe, distinguindo-se atrás das montanhas que vemos em vários planos, como uma pintura.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8QxbGDPjwbMo_cmbC2KzvZk2ZnG8gLoREKM3M24mDAff5IriMTowDrclKZgKm6TfJv7roTvjS9Fd2om6RHkVRBqqBHq2iVUsEiHMRDMITwB9UvmrkIKx0KFLE5bfB98MTGmQDosCxJKlS6uGyoVR3uR5p0LqIdnpbvd49Hy6aOrZcuL3SpWD7inGf=s3244" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3244" data-original-width="2249" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEj8QxbGDPjwbMo_cmbC2KzvZk2ZnG8gLoREKM3M24mDAff5IriMTowDrclKZgKm6TfJv7roTvjS9Fd2om6RHkVRBqqBHq2iVUsEiHMRDMITwB9UvmrkIKx0KFLE5bfB98MTGmQDosCxJKlS6uGyoVR3uR5p0LqIdnpbvd49Hy6aOrZcuL3SpWD7inGf=w278-h400" width="278" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um dos célebres <i>Toros de Guisando</i>, estátuas que se pensa serem de origem celta</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Continuamos a rodar pelas belas estradas de montanha, a caminho de Barco de Ávila, que é a verdadeira porta de entrada para a Serra de Gredos. Barco de Ávila é uma cidade antiga, que atingiu algum fulgor económico e cultural na Idade Média. Muitos pontos da cidade ainda nos remetem para a vida quotidiana dessa época, como o castelo, a ponte românica, a igreja fortaleza, a torre do relógio e até a antiga mesquita, hoje transformada numa loja de queijos e enchidos... Ironias da História! </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3FDO7ax69XnSga-Iz4l3he5QFKyUd_kWxR_WcDFOr5aoVtQ8w5E0Oa06zcaRK50WUS2SMrfevyidySisZmT0v7TfwlLOa5CZpSu55Nbn68gQC3HnYaBWFjnhYeZ-ehDRtdIPyoiWsfrCD6HXjMadCcbD8LWZZNKSgfHwpHa2aovhg-H8ZPkPxOlR5=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEh3FDO7ax69XnSga-Iz4l3he5QFKyUd_kWxR_WcDFOr5aoVtQ8w5E0Oa06zcaRK50WUS2SMrfevyidySisZmT0v7TfwlLOa5CZpSu55Nbn68gQC3HnYaBWFjnhYeZ-ehDRtdIPyoiWsfrCD6HXjMadCcbD8LWZZNKSgfHwpHa2aovhg-H8ZPkPxOlR5=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O belo castelo de Barco de Ávila</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYgccXI5Ji54wrvjP3oeFHROHOUiIJBZS-aA2j-CQU-LiokGysGH1FCnhiJCyCO---oGHxuOPbVcsgARM6m9FBsRw2-QnC9HI2_hKfofG33shwIcsttCUOhM2PwguYf0TZtnM9oEn4s-SVyASb3YZwFNu_OPPL6WoDq62TWHIkCSbUqVGHf_lPfJQZ=s3916" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3916" data-original-width="2203" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiYgccXI5Ji54wrvjP3oeFHROHOUiIJBZS-aA2j-CQU-LiokGysGH1FCnhiJCyCO---oGHxuOPbVcsgARM6m9FBsRw2-QnC9HI2_hKfofG33shwIcsttCUOhM2PwguYf0TZtnM9oEn4s-SVyASb3YZwFNu_OPPL6WoDq62TWHIkCSbUqVGHf_lPfJQZ=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma loja com muito <i>pedigree</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Entramos no Parque Natural da Serra de Gredos. Passamos pelo monumento à cabra montês, símbolo do parque, em Hoyos del Epino. Também aqui se encontra o Parador mais antigo de Espanha. A estrada continua magnífica. E, no entanto... </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTCvAajn5_hYEkAD8Xsod3yLIgcHKs4zV3ffBrqcR6zEnJQWsowUm1ijIaSlqwi79xIrlgYSyzuI26K4vadu7p2O_COzWJ6CL0tK26cywgK0sRSlWqP5f3_rUfN1kJDP_ob5TV7RzwrJn7CNDsDqPHEuCvi0vbjQdd_gpBGdtkfILj1kXkCi5eP1KQ=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjTCvAajn5_hYEkAD8Xsod3yLIgcHKs4zV3ffBrqcR6zEnJQWsowUm1ijIaSlqwi79xIrlgYSyzuI26K4vadu7p2O_COzWJ6CL0tK26cywgK0sRSlWqP5f3_rUfN1kJDP_ob5TV7RzwrJn7CNDsDqPHEuCvi0vbjQdd_gpBGdtkfILj1kXkCi5eP1KQ=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Monumento à cabra montês<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A partir de um certo ponto, viramos as costas à Serra de Gredos e começamos a descer para Ávila. O ar começa a aquecer e a vegetação a escassear. A paisagem torna-se mais inóspita e reconhecemos a secura familiar da Meseta espanhola. Chegamos a Ávila.</span><p></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiO7wN-OQkk2w2e6tCzisJ7NKspVj56G5aejZDdr47AbN-e0LXusx23q5a96Mwse9weN_wErsVc9V8pg9UUUDPBohI_TiseQzQFrKtXhbxGUCjjYVpbLf5JC40rjErlamJdCyry4OdfEyx5dWLJv1pGXZ9SR0-L4yMfKBnIKQUibAIHoANibr95gidH=s3636" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3636" data-original-width="2138" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiO7wN-OQkk2w2e6tCzisJ7NKspVj56G5aejZDdr47AbN-e0LXusx23q5a96Mwse9weN_wErsVc9V8pg9UUUDPBohI_TiseQzQFrKtXhbxGUCjjYVpbLf5JC40rjErlamJdCyry4OdfEyx5dWLJv1pGXZ9SR0-L4yMfKBnIKQUibAIHoANibr95gidH=w235-h400" width="235" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Ávila, no Caminho da Língua Castelhana</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Ávila tem um tesouro extraordinário, que são as suas muralhas. Quase três quilómetros de muralhas rodeiam a cidade, pontuadas por uma imensidão de torres e umas portas impressionantes. Embora sejam do século XII / XIII, foram recontruídas no século XIX e requalificadas no século XX. Fazem-me lembrar as muralhas de Lugo que, no entanto, são quase mil anos mais velhas. Tal como em Lugo, a vida agarra-se às muralhas e encontram-se casas que fazem parte da própria muralha. É o caso da catedral.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjbZy_j5RoYMb5Xf1v8CcW5PWv8_wCobPaLtmZt38TeVGmCC72At087BsyKc4hQZP_QcQVrcg9DmciHmfBtvydQsyv1v8r-a1hRIODbD0OZ4hukrUIsxIQXY_4snZVIpz8zkeDxorbO0xz_Rsx7qg8nbUYDmWIj5HRU3FJ6CwdyHpovN1aZhTXQev_K=s3053" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3053" data-original-width="2236" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjbZy_j5RoYMb5Xf1v8CcW5PWv8_wCobPaLtmZt38TeVGmCC72At087BsyKc4hQZP_QcQVrcg9DmciHmfBtvydQsyv1v8r-a1hRIODbD0OZ4hukrUIsxIQXY_4snZVIpz8zkeDxorbO0xz_Rsx7qg8nbUYDmWIj5HRU3FJ6CwdyHpovN1aZhTXQev_K=w293-h400" width="293" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das portas monumentais de Ávila</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIgwRf1esnt4kQ0TZmjOi-EnZhkDgEZRc-mxBrX8c_QT_sDW_QIqv7ChgqjR4XQXugEs4g9cZVhW3B8fEMVMp7wriAyz61M_MwI8-xxFOmcvIfONm5nXBjpaZxJ6kqyX7McsjQf-iYd2wMLkptth1F7XK87uzUQOySE3KrI86iWkcNEQcUX-jLCZ-_=s3861" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2173" data-original-width="3861" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIgwRf1esnt4kQ0TZmjOi-EnZhkDgEZRc-mxBrX8c_QT_sDW_QIqv7ChgqjR4XQXugEs4g9cZVhW3B8fEMVMp7wriAyz61M_MwI8-xxFOmcvIfONm5nXBjpaZxJ6kqyX7McsjQf-iYd2wMLkptth1F7XK87uzUQOySE3KrI86iWkcNEQcUX-jLCZ-_=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKM-laU148boQH9LkPEwFz5RXaEL9NT_H-dXfu6AcpmeV5DSEiZFgJsZFGGkzYM8eTkjg7aobxe40re2tQqF4XScidBWlE3hvYJI-eskOGLIHFM5Duino5yV-B8cihScrcTj0NLTKisP5QPxL7SvDC-E6bRRGfHAzdKeJwF2do7v-CpPNhMwAgwigi=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhKM-laU148boQH9LkPEwFz5RXaEL9NT_H-dXfu6AcpmeV5DSEiZFgJsZFGGkzYM8eTkjg7aobxe40re2tQqF4XScidBWlE3hvYJI-eskOGLIHFM5Duino5yV-B8cihScrcTj0NLTKisP5QPxL7SvDC-E6bRRGfHAzdKeJwF2do7v-CpPNhMwAgwigi=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Quilómetros de muralhas...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A catedral de Ávila é um edifício imponente. Foi construída no século XII, o século da Reconquista desta região aos mouros, num mármore rosa e branco, muito bonito e original. Impressionaram-me os dois "homens de musgo" que flanqueiam o pórtico da entrada. Como aparecem ali umas figuras tão pagãs? Segundo parece, surgem em homenagem aos cristãos que, na cidade vizinha de Béjar, se camuflaram com musgo para enganar os mouros e levá-los a abrir as suas portas. Na verdade, a presença destas criaturas relacionadas com os bosques e cultos animistas causa estranheza, naquele local. Mas também é verdade que é através destes sincretismos que as religiões evoluem.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmPB4-Iyej4OEIufsyW-OxidnngJaczSl13AZ2r3h3k2XKLOuuNXD1Jiat4cmpuTn4pWNTNY4ycXhc-4B67KCN3T2Yxj8z-lOYf7TBGaGN_kFVq7kny-F8NV4t4JkwAcVN-ipgUHJu-QmqUojefTGVobsCRlWVoWX8oAiJ6tZivjKic3P64MaqZHxH=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjmPB4-Iyej4OEIufsyW-OxidnngJaczSl13AZ2r3h3k2XKLOuuNXD1Jiat4cmpuTn4pWNTNY4ycXhc-4B67KCN3T2Yxj8z-lOYf7TBGaGN_kFVq7kny-F8NV4t4JkwAcVN-ipgUHJu-QmqUojefTGVobsCRlWVoWX8oAiJ6tZivjKic3P64MaqZHxH=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Dois homens de musgo guardam a porta da catedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBXWGVwhahiLp5v2Shoyg8R3h8JJUThaWFViLHIStIOq17XIxEukGxsGNhYcLUOYoPSeGmpziOYoCfj-effBFPKyPtiRpOJCoq1rFwyO5Bqx9wIoX5GBIiC18utMq_MJ7ILNqfe5HeLgO0LqHxgs_sADio2g6nPl6HFGMPGg5fmU1SSqJfNsJlOpYz=s3733" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2099" data-original-width="3733" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhBXWGVwhahiLp5v2Shoyg8R3h8JJUThaWFViLHIStIOq17XIxEukGxsGNhYcLUOYoPSeGmpziOYoCfj-effBFPKyPtiRpOJCoq1rFwyO5Bqx9wIoX5GBIiC18utMq_MJ7ILNqfe5HeLgO0LqHxgs_sADio2g6nPl6HFGMPGg5fmU1SSqJfNsJlOpYz=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pormenor da Visitação dos Reis Magos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjFo5vfrbAzsBtJR70-hWYNuGNfuLVsSmPLiA5yvhAqmOKAH8RFoulcUs2ZPF37hXgwY05pmcLGml5k-99loRsKAxirdD9Hkm3GCkDFUs0_KRj7-S0YK99bQpnYYNGEx6GkILAU-PebhFKLNpcNbh4hZmZWjqV0yWiPKLduKln-B4J5UKr2phGNJf50=s3708" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3708" data-original-width="2227" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjFo5vfrbAzsBtJR70-hWYNuGNfuLVsSmPLiA5yvhAqmOKAH8RFoulcUs2ZPF37hXgwY05pmcLGml5k-99loRsKAxirdD9Hkm3GCkDFUs0_KRj7-S0YK99bQpnYYNGEx6GkILAU-PebhFKLNpcNbh4hZmZWjqV0yWiPKLduKln-B4J5UKr2phGNJf50=w240-h400" width="240" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No interior da catedral</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A parte antiga de Ávila, dentro das muralhas, tem um ar austero. Sente-se o peso da influência das casas nobres e da Igreja. Algumas casas nobres e palácios têm pormenores defensivos, que fazem pensar que se destinavam mais à defesa contra bandos de fidalgos rivais do que contra os mouros!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiloWU0hHZfvs-j0cKCXeIlQ8A_ZnvtcQ_VjBpbqQnHRJ4yHuB7jl9q6BNJyXBVrCYsEFYZcP6gsdA2lvu37vC_TG_Mqv5l20BltHwg6GWUFd75eoXhnzBFInCZNg8LOqCzdq4PEOYi7A-HIP7wikgFATy-87ejn0FBueKGoZE6V5CHvSrifqQSM583=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEiloWU0hHZfvs-j0cKCXeIlQ8A_ZnvtcQ_VjBpbqQnHRJ4yHuB7jl9q6BNJyXBVrCYsEFYZcP6gsdA2lvu37vC_TG_Mqv5l20BltHwg6GWUFd75eoXhnzBFInCZNg8LOqCzdq4PEOYi7A-HIP7wikgFATy-87ejn0FBueKGoZE6V5CHvSrifqQSM583=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Frontaria de uma casa senhorial</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas a figura mais marcante de Ávila é Santa Teresa de Jesus e, provavelmente, é o peso da sua figura e da sua influência que explica o elevado número de conventos e casas religiosas que se encontram em Ávila. Juntamente com o seu mentor, São João da Cruz, ela está presente em inúmeros locais e referências. Até nos bolos típicos avilenhos, que se chamam "gemas de Santa Teresa"!</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgn6uY8z3KGMLGN4RuVXrecNhdAHCxhAw5oFN_TLYpeitY2g-qaLecqz9GAv1OICzyFQxz8RRUjkpFieo7ozT-f9wkb23xb1IxbwsLLbiW18tk5bPZHMlcCna3Nf6hKnlKzgdpMoGy7RC8LeydjgKxHvxBKas2u13p0wi1qiBFA1YijMV_3k3_EjKUZ=s3733" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2099" data-original-width="3733" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgn6uY8z3KGMLGN4RuVXrecNhdAHCxhAw5oFN_TLYpeitY2g-qaLecqz9GAv1OICzyFQxz8RRUjkpFieo7ozT-f9wkb23xb1IxbwsLLbiW18tk5bPZHMlcCna3Nf6hKnlKzgdpMoGy7RC8LeydjgKxHvxBKas2u13p0wi1qiBFA1YijMV_3k3_EjKUZ=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Monasterio de Santa Teresa. No largo, a estátua sentada da santa convida à aproximação dos peregrinos e visitantes.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-15609670465676610322021-12-29T12:12:00.001+00:002021-12-31T12:57:53.499+00:00De mota pelas Serras de Almanzor - La Alberca e Mogarraz<p style="text-align: justify;"> <br /><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsmsb4na_03oxGr0xWDqhPaOVWFJRzPRcRlObCj7doBKa1J4zZalp92fAgeM8Nk0HZj09MK2KrCthAKriCZnz7LCyPXaXcEQ9SqC0FQG4MBnyVzQsk7oebvBJUNlFrKE-LDsD0JCVnepjAZ6cH7rYEp0TpbzG9WOupVH7VWrqdtiWPeDplG2HomS_e=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjsmsb4na_03oxGr0xWDqhPaOVWFJRzPRcRlObCj7doBKa1J4zZalp92fAgeM8Nk0HZj09MK2KrCthAKriCZnz7LCyPXaXcEQ9SqC0FQG4MBnyVzQsk7oebvBJUNlFrKE-LDsD0JCVnepjAZ6cH7rYEp0TpbzG9WOupVH7VWrqdtiWPeDplG2HomS_e=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada na aldeia de La Alberca</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Este ano, o passeio de mota foi reduzido pela pandemia. Na impossibilidade de projetos mais ambiciosos, decidimos explorar o maciço montanhoso que se inicia na Peña de Francia, muito perto da fronteira portuguesa, e que se estende até à Serra de Guadarrama, a norte de Madrid. Compreende várias serras e picos rochosos, dos quais o mais alto é o Pico de Almanzor, que se eleva a mais de 2500 metros, em plena serra de Gredos. Ao passar Ciudad Rodrigo, começa a vislumbrar-se toda a serrania que vamos percorrer. Mas não temos pressa.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbiNjf5L71acPgnLt7l9Q7HgoesuCfRNIdSjngdJJsBgqGH_wDKTK4wsOigCgl7UDi6k19hlUBO3C7z3OKJ0uA1ROs5jFM-6jdy3tfzLHog9JrA47MInuqmdeLcJqcn5k4fIp8Sw5qLJFH486-KlMyuQcjs6Il-WSE4D6qzhnMAy5X2zzYr5sodWm2=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgbiNjf5L71acPgnLt7l9Q7HgoesuCfRNIdSjngdJJsBgqGH_wDKTK4wsOigCgl7UDi6k19hlUBO3C7z3OKJ0uA1ROs5jFM-6jdy3tfzLHog9JrA47MInuqmdeLcJqcn5k4fIp8Sw5qLJFH486-KlMyuQcjs6Il-WSE4D6qzhnMAy5X2zzYr5sodWm2=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Vista da Peña de Francia</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A Peña de Francia é um pico escalvado, no cimo do qual foi construído o Monasterio da Virgen de la Peña, alegadamente por aí ter sido encontrada uma imagem escondida da Virgem. Hoje, aí funciona também um albergue e, do alto dos seus 1700 metros, garante umas vistas magníficas sobre as redondezas.</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"> Mesmo aos pés da Peña de Francia, vale a pena parar e passar tempo na pequena aldeia de La Alberca.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIkDdqdVDiJZCLLjXCkNt7VKQuB8mWDkkvkbunI5x4aE-zqiZ1WmMX-e2Rbn1RVjBWaZWk8K9jR403_AG9Bl9_1GvOaTphLrqjdBq6o6SOBuNucnS5SMnDr27zg-eowGo_GRkB6ImnM33_DM1hpIxxW-WR6djvo13UNNbLPQTNG6aSXuVjYBQCkfBB=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjIkDdqdVDiJZCLLjXCkNt7VKQuB8mWDkkvkbunI5x4aE-zqiZ1WmMX-e2Rbn1RVjBWaZWk8K9jR403_AG9Bl9_1GvOaTphLrqjdBq6o6SOBuNucnS5SMnDr27zg-eowGo_GRkB6ImnM33_DM1hpIxxW-WR6djvo13UNNbLPQTNG6aSXuVjYBQCkfBB=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A pequena Plaza Mayor de La Alberca</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">La Alberca é uma pérola, entre as aldeias da Estremadura espanhola. Ruas estreitas, ladeadas de casas de pedra e entrançados em enxaimel, janelas e balcões cheios de flores, a desembocarem numa Plaza Mayor pequena mas encantadora. No centro, o velho pelourinho junto da fonte e do tanque para os animais matarem a sede. E flores, sempre flores, tufos de sardinheiras e gerânios cuidadosamente aparados em todas as varandas.</span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHU5x0mBVERp7m2dpS7NqpDXzL1HgU3fnCdPetlZ5DCpRRHWX7NgqoQkQyJpnEJMUiXmdHANXPKYiyc9_Z0cN5n0Hjw-Eu4__ByR5wWP0G1fk3jhpLW3ez3nW5yqZKd3zbjOsfHx0hocQo1S6Hmn_OBRhT55Fyvu69CJ4qigQJQmZ1zLIOfABxhfPq=s3398" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3398" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEjHU5x0mBVERp7m2dpS7NqpDXzL1HgU3fnCdPetlZ5DCpRRHWX7NgqoQkQyJpnEJMUiXmdHANXPKYiyc9_Z0cN5n0Hjw-Eu4__ByR5wWP0G1fk3jhpLW3ez3nW5yqZKd3zbjOsfHx0hocQo1S6Hmn_OBRhT55Fyvu69CJ4qigQJQmZ1zLIOfABxhfPq=w265-h400" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O cruzeiro e o fontanário...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">De onde lhe vem este ar de povoado bretão? Nem lhe falta um pórtico de pedra, a fazer lembrar os átrios paroquiais da Bretanha. Explicam-nos que esta zona terá sido povoada por franceses, que acompanhavam D. Raimundo de Borgonha. Sim, o tio do nosso primeiro rei. </span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixKBs-gK-mQ43-viZ7W6DKUScs_oNIayxBX8S8PRKNzcp05mmV5zwasZvDzD4E6Bb_mJ5DCKijh0zX5hQ2ubqPz2Co7RBisXBlZQaf6qy_QSV06xho652-L9EyFJZNhiTWTCbXSCAo7XhC-jXU4aEc75T2AqS_ldNG5pHTOUuafRwM6w75eOBR7H4H=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEixKBs-gK-mQ43-viZ7W6DKUScs_oNIayxBX8S8PRKNzcp05mmV5zwasZvDzD4E6Bb_mJ5DCKijh0zX5hQ2ubqPz2Co7RBisXBlZQaf6qy_QSV06xho652-L9EyFJZNhiTWTCbXSCAo7XhC-jXU4aEc75T2AqS_ldNG5pHTOUuafRwM6w75eOBR7H4H=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Vestígios de um átrio paroquial?</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Pelas ruas, encont</span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">ramos o Marrano de Santo Antón, o porco preto que deambula livremente na aldeia entre 13 de junho e 17 de janeiro, data em que é diligentemente transformado em febras e embutidos. Talvez tenha encontrado um seu antepassado na lasquinha de bacon que coroava a truta grelhada que comi ao almoço...</span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizp1eWGwKgML4cp1e5um639XAbrnVPr1CyF50fpwOBo7gsY79gb5kbVfiUPYy7tJkIZf_lb1ohFwb1A7AzngI3Fvaw0g29M_2p-XtWVfnP5xgn8ftNmUXBWsCu6YdhHtLYOA1aghmH-s4tvxa0gjwLhe4RpwjnUqep5kzhQB2ECC21fSYQleIEdstP=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEizp1eWGwKgML4cp1e5um639XAbrnVPr1CyF50fpwOBo7gsY79gb5kbVfiUPYy7tJkIZf_lb1ohFwb1A7AzngI3Fvaw0g29M_2p-XtWVfnP5xgn8ftNmUXBWsCu6YdhHtLYOA1aghmH-s4tvxa0gjwLhe4RpwjnUqep5kzhQB2ECC21fSYQleIEdstP=w400-h225" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Flores por todo o lado</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></div><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A seguir a La Alberca, entramos no Parque Natural de las Batuecas. Depois do Mirador del Portillo, as escarpas sucedem-se em belas estradas de montanha. Do outro lado da serra, passamos em Las Hurdes. Hoje, todas estas terreolas parecem pitorescas, mas não o eram tanto quando, em meados do século passado, Luis Buñuel aqui esteve a filmar e documentar a vida miserável dos que aqui viviam. Ficou a memória, no seu filme <i>Terra sem Pão.</i></span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheR5NDY14jsUuMAOdsilDWESMKd9KaTLCPkRI_Sg4NA0yTqFhUKaH4IX8BYmXVyoGZwpg8c6qmBT2PaHtXOaRL0WuPf2mtT7YGnKa05sUOUygk14K-4bZUeBdsRVkY91S8oEP0_tIozvNvvsuFPKJbzOHCleP66_HzT5MWPC3XPgwLZ8Lrynzgxh8l=s4000" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="4000" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEheR5NDY14jsUuMAOdsilDWESMKd9KaTLCPkRI_Sg4NA0yTqFhUKaH4IX8BYmXVyoGZwpg8c6qmBT2PaHtXOaRL0WuPf2mtT7YGnKa05sUOUygk14K-4bZUeBdsRVkY91S8oEP0_tIozvNvvsuFPKJbzOHCleP66_HzT5MWPC3XPgwLZ8Lrynzgxh8l=w225-h400" width="225" /></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigbgvBVWZPYnd1tKmucHOCnd_8r-QdOBTzXA39nLMS-EqHlzGVfPIuN3yhmpjMEGPtsm4KbR2skXr_aIzuGKNz8HpcfKsFxahFzN-FdpQouzklWfNVOaaZvcov8aePeChTM6anw3B1rfocmnD1k60cND6Bx-lDXtw3V5efuV5mIPxA1VMJGs0EZQ6q=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEigbgvBVWZPYnd1tKmucHOCnd_8r-QdOBTzXA39nLMS-EqHlzGVfPIuN3yhmpjMEGPtsm4KbR2skXr_aIzuGKNz8HpcfKsFxahFzN-FdpQouzklWfNVOaaZvcov8aePeChTM6anw3B1rfocmnD1k60cND6Bx-lDXtw3V5efuV5mIPxA1VMJGs0EZQ6q=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Vista do Mirador del Portillo</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Chegada a Mogarraz. Dentro da povoação não se pode andar de carro nem de mota, torna-se até difícil chegar ao hotel rural "El Balcón de Mogarraz", mesmo com as nossas poucas bagagens. Mas vale a pena. É uma casa antiga e alcantilada, a um canto da Plaza Mayor. Cada quarto tem um quadrozinho em ponto de cruz que o identifica. O nosso tem uma planta com flores e um nome em latim.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUWcNCofmuuOdcc7UnAGBtOVUdfVm_zfm_vj9LoVCCmhUN_eKX5G63rahx2Ude691RTqRdSZwQ6J_4INCgLjWQiIi-2mprES8e3NFPizhbeym2uWZ5YTjRRSeSAw0dPFxNuUHN9XYHVdagctpwaK2Uj_XacHWbjMSTmWpqRqU8C4Kk3cdgJQ9GQNGd=s4000" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2250" data-original-width="4000" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEhUWcNCofmuuOdcc7UnAGBtOVUdfVm_zfm_vj9LoVCCmhUN_eKX5G63rahx2Ude691RTqRdSZwQ6J_4INCgLjWQiIi-2mprES8e3NFPizhbeym2uWZ5YTjRRSeSAw0dPFxNuUHN9XYHVdagctpwaK2Uj_XacHWbjMSTmWpqRqU8C4Kk3cdgJQ9GQNGd=w400-h225" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um recanto da Plaza Mayor de Mogarraz</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mogarraz ainda é habitada pelos que aqui viveram no século passado, na época em que Buñuel fez o seu filme. Olham-nos sérios ou sorridentes das paredes das casas, em grandes retratos. Como surgiram estes retratos? Em 1967, um fotógrafo tirou uma fotografia a todos os habitantes de Mogarraz, para o Registo de Identificação. No início do século XXI, um artista descobriu esses registos fotográficos e gravou-os em placas metálicas. E assim todas estas pessoas tiveram uma nova vida, e acompanham-nos enquanto passeamos pelas ruas da vila.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6bOS7eVfHVPmE7spNA5EsQ40dCI9Z90pH5Vpg5TKAgxV6nqWANMIgn1_Eif85VGa3i_Ne6eaQXtFGRUT_xZem-YvOvXp6R_3rwxAPLih3fVdKppun2olbApOq3geDtcNSJSj4sxjKa8D1_bSIJHuUNoDshSAivHkMN3NMn_McH_7yus_phdy8jfWn=s3496" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3496" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEi6bOS7eVfHVPmE7spNA5EsQ40dCI9Z90pH5Vpg5TKAgxV6nqWANMIgn1_Eif85VGa3i_Ne6eaQXtFGRUT_xZem-YvOvXp6R_3rwxAPLih3fVdKppun2olbApOq3geDtcNSJSj4sxjKa8D1_bSIJHuUNoDshSAivHkMN3NMn_McH_7yus_phdy8jfWn=w258-h400" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os antigos habitantes acompanham o nosso passeio</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Além das casas antigas, Mogarraz tem um Cruzeiro do século XVII a que chamam a Cruz dos Judeus. Tem também uma ermida românica, a Ermida del Humilladero, com uma original pia batismal no exterior, alimentada por uma fonte. Perto da ermida, um grupo de crianças brinca, numa festa de aniversário infantil. Parece que ainda há gente real que habita aqui e não só turistas de temporada, como eu!...</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPTBmCvxbHuCTSnucDQ_GIKcC8rbNYdN9DrO7Ad7vGEUvPdr_De8BzywlhihKQIQd4GxagRxIJpTAyFo6m5j52faWrj5TeWkkdU5bbtl-8fXFqcH1RDTufMBHhS_uttIfi7OuExxZQjQjSAdb_yXMHZMbSteo9AoU5WyOkYSH1M1EQQxGWiQvIeiIf=s3272" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3272" data-original-width="2250" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgPTBmCvxbHuCTSnucDQ_GIKcC8rbNYdN9DrO7Ad7vGEUvPdr_De8BzywlhihKQIQd4GxagRxIJpTAyFo6m5j52faWrj5TeWkkdU5bbtl-8fXFqcH1RDTufMBHhS_uttIfi7OuExxZQjQjSAdb_yXMHZMbSteo9AoU5WyOkYSH1M1EQQxGWiQvIeiIf=w275-h400" width="275" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Cruz dos Judeus, frente à Ermida</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Surpresa do pequeno almoço: afinal, a artista do ponto de cruz é a esposa do dono do hotel. A sala de refeições está cheia de recordações e pequenas obras feitas por eles. É um hotel com alma.</span></p><p style="text-align: justify;"></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQjNzD9frkBXltlLDClUOBHBPuPAlssJUUEjJGncvbl9gr2qSIQ4-RrdRgmM2tMveT8BGHMMiytrh1RPfLPWCRn-zr-dE2RNjMF-0-bzvHm6kP0vvqwwcX6_4A6uNtX45AVG9v88yc7NYLznBCJWx3Kjig8su9XvztPfZGbDkQ3qF1RfF3AZiRWQ5l=s3659" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="3659" data-original-width="2173" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/a/AVvXsEgQjNzD9frkBXltlLDClUOBHBPuPAlssJUUEjJGncvbl9gr2qSIQ4-RrdRgmM2tMveT8BGHMMiytrh1RPfLPWCRn-zr-dE2RNjMF-0-bzvHm6kP0vvqwwcX6_4A6uNtX45AVG9v88yc7NYLznBCJWx3Kjig8su9XvztPfZGbDkQ3qF1RfF3AZiRWQ5l=w238-h400" width="238" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p><p style="text-align: justify;"><br /></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-27501388918581525852021-11-28T17:27:00.000+00:002021-11-28T17:27:05.808+00:00Khiva - A cidade no deserto<div style="text-align: justify;"> <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Qy5CGyZNr8jVDQBP1F2sGBHsuQo7hNAe8-RmEZ-ssX_dBbaIYKS0M_z05-eaPR2nyKlpgjAYPS2HQ7wKdoDTOckj12EAsylucqfVmBLWZHIu3eWus-Uj3dRuMrHJGCQrjVXNL6nDx2M/s2048/20210826_095739.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh0Qy5CGyZNr8jVDQBP1F2sGBHsuQo7hNAe8-RmEZ-ssX_dBbaIYKS0M_z05-eaPR2nyKlpgjAYPS2HQ7wKdoDTOckj12EAsylucqfVmBLWZHIu3eWus-Uj3dRuMrHJGCQrjVXNL6nDx2M/w400-h225/20210826_095739.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As muralhas de Khiva</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Khiva situa-se no noroeste do Uzbequistão, junto à fronteira com o Irão, às portas do deserto. É uma região árida, entre os desertos de Karakum e Kysylkum. A primeira impressão que tive, ao chegar, foi a de que a cidade se erguia do próprio deserto, do qual copiava a cor. Das muralhas às casas de habitação, como cubos virados para um pátio central, tudo o que se avista é do mesmo cinzento amarelado, a cor da terra, a cor do deserto. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WJgwId56LyraeA-jKcSwITtyS0M8LZzOCLs1JALpg11syMGS57wo5_0ldJ2CJ-zVYBhkFCSVbrFQLsYXN77gqfQl4JBHZnFbVw6aPHr6joOB7mtcTTx7gqBBJqSZ8sn1tBmXrmnJPIg/s2048/20210826_095530.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj3WJgwId56LyraeA-jKcSwITtyS0M8LZzOCLs1JALpg11syMGS57wo5_0ldJ2CJ-zVYBhkFCSVbrFQLsYXN77gqfQl4JBHZnFbVw6aPHr6joOB7mtcTTx7gqBBJqSZ8sn1tBmXrmnJPIg/w400-h225/20210826_095530.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A porta de entrada na cidade muralhada, ou Ishan Kala</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKdVkfAp-ebKFKpVLbsf6CY5xiT2RnWvZV2OL39E8LDHffvbVaWSgFnkHQXY8Xm8m9zRZBezoDM-oE1ygI14vUbxHDp4FRA0tXbhhYoOExY6xVftRd4CBdN2Fb8FDV27BKTQDQ34zLug/s2048/20210826_115155.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXKdVkfAp-ebKFKpVLbsf6CY5xiT2RnWvZV2OL39E8LDHffvbVaWSgFnkHQXY8Xm8m9zRZBezoDM-oE1ygI14vUbxHDp4FRA0tXbhhYoOExY6xVftRd4CBdN2Fb8FDV27BKTQDQ34zLug/w225-h400/20210826_115155.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma rua de Khiva</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxX2R8BQh1Bekt9kg23n9exXydqcwPsVGHsZHQBGIgltKsEVsRGaQUhDPDL7Kc-Db5eUaD2q8YBi7ms83KerYbDwwYuVGs6-zFyEJYZ7rX_5QEpN4iQwWXKNK7hEqEjRWila3_k57wiaU/s2048/20210826_100703.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxX2R8BQh1Bekt9kg23n9exXydqcwPsVGHsZHQBGIgltKsEVsRGaQUhDPDL7Kc-Db5eUaD2q8YBi7ms83KerYbDwwYuVGs6-zFyEJYZ7rX_5QEpN4iQwWXKNK7hEqEjRWila3_k57wiaU/w225-h400/20210826_100703.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma porta no deserto</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No entanto, é errado pensar-se que estamos num sítio inóspito, nos confins da terra civilizada. A capital da província, Urgench, não fica longe e tem um aeroporto razoável, assim como razoáveis são as estradas que cobrem a província. Herança dos tempos soviéticos... </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmlU8zP5T9zn3S-PxD4JLLUnwJzhPBtCcR3I-DVo6jn7YRAo35R4qZ9N5lnrExhxIbdtF_3J62KZV-vdExtV5didU5-BzW7kehMGw9uzWo14wIoqMUv3NCqsPuIMt-bB3Pt1BKCItMzsQ/s2048/20210826_100333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1408" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmlU8zP5T9zn3S-PxD4JLLUnwJzhPBtCcR3I-DVo6jn7YRAo35R4qZ9N5lnrExhxIbdtF_3J62KZV-vdExtV5didU5-BzW7kehMGw9uzWo14wIoqMUv3NCqsPuIMt-bB3Pt1BKCItMzsQ/w275-h400/20210826_100333.jpg" width="275" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A rua principal</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaT3nIZUqcx0_eh23uCwpvih9aMivgkvfpClr2QRG0cbuN_DfiN6BIYeH7Zwf3g326snWJQ9Nd2rghFBmi6grXlnewd-USauisIQCkFYjI_TqbmtOlnH1-PRzlTpNtaNhQ882dbnIJWiE/s2048/20210826_112637.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaT3nIZUqcx0_eh23uCwpvih9aMivgkvfpClr2QRG0cbuN_DfiN6BIYeH7Zwf3g326snWJQ9Nd2rghFBmi6grXlnewd-USauisIQCkFYjI_TqbmtOlnH1-PRzlTpNtaNhQ882dbnIJWiE/w400-h225/20210826_112637.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Tempo de lazer: uma esplanada na cidade</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Khiva é um mergulho no passado. Toda a cidade muralhada está bem preservada e podemos sentir-nos um Lawrence da Arábia em passeio. Ou um escravo, à espera de ser vendido... Khiva desenvolveu-se como grande mercado de escravos e daí retirou a sua prosperidade, pelo menos nos séculos XVII e XVIII.
Os comerciantes que chegavam a Khiva vindos das estepes geladas do norte ou dos desertos tórridos do sul, traziam também outros produtos, como as peles, que ainda hoje se encontram à venda nos bazares. Podemos comprar um gorro de astrakan ou uma écharpe de pelo de camelo. Que pena não ter onde os usar! </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-99WzPT2KxL30JtW5rR7OQxX_AE1ca1uzWzjpKRFxIAsTin1BXxTFl7QmhjJmxt8nQFklXVR0-NQkdDrnzB9aYF5rf7yewkrUIwMaNT4p-ccfdhShJD2SF_kjnnSr4UQomwlpovbDaJg/s2048/20210826_100601.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi-99WzPT2KxL30JtW5rR7OQxX_AE1ca1uzWzjpKRFxIAsTin1BXxTFl7QmhjJmxt8nQFklXVR0-NQkdDrnzB9aYF5rf7yewkrUIwMaNT4p-ccfdhShJD2SF_kjnnSr4UQomwlpovbDaJg/w225-h400/20210826_100601.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">À porta da loja de peles</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHCLUphdGDUKsfV_Dzmz3wCz5Y20ocPm1SUgf_Ym3EF9hrbF3Few7-5gZW0MYT43EX3k6wPOf1zW2rogdHOMLfbJ6UV7iUiWAZi-u59uobfuxIw7-BBjpRRg6kPtEGJMjkbF-FprtFcjg/s2048/20210826_100433.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHCLUphdGDUKsfV_Dzmz3wCz5Y20ocPm1SUgf_Ym3EF9hrbF3Few7-5gZW0MYT43EX3k6wPOf1zW2rogdHOMLfbJ6UV7iUiWAZi-u59uobfuxIw7-BBjpRRg6kPtEGJMjkbF-FprtFcjg/w400-h225/20210826_100433.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Banca de gorros em pele</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No centro da cidade, a mesquita Juma relembra-nos esses mercadores. É uma mesquita diferente do que encontramos noutros locais do Uzbequistão. Não tem o grande portal em arcada, nem abóbadas. Quando entramos, o que nos rodeia é uma autêntica floresta de pilares de madeira, delicadamente ornamentados, iluminados pela luz difusa de uma clarabóia. São mais de duzentos, cada um deles esculpido com um padrão decorativo diferente. A maioria foram oferecidos por comerciantes que os traziam nas suas caravanas, entre os séculos X e XIV. Imagino o esforço e a perícia necessários para transportar aquelas enormes colunas no dorso de camelos! Ainda hoje, quando ali entramos, temos a sensação de mergulhar num espaço fresco e misterioso de oração, uma floresta de tranquilidade. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP9i25mP5iy3_yaaBhI5_VEw5YYFCVQjknyCCakmL1XSI3LYX2Vh80bU0Dpe4JwzI9LgXhyWpP2wzq5nTuNYwzF5uWzfstg1x_SZPpxh2m7FPcPbOItnzM4kRYOahfC0KQbWyFE2Ih7w/s2048/20210826_112903.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhuP9i25mP5iy3_yaaBhI5_VEw5YYFCVQjknyCCakmL1XSI3LYX2Vh80bU0Dpe4JwzI9LgXhyWpP2wzq5nTuNYwzF5uWzfstg1x_SZPpxh2m7FPcPbOItnzM4kRYOahfC0KQbWyFE2Ih7w/w400-h225/20210826_112903.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A mesquita Juma</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqnbphQYiPZ-4zm7-_bKFMc1Den6t0hGLV6oOZQ_uLjegFMLBRNI00_B4Brl9zzaZyNeULiKpg6nx_FXYT0JTHN7rfLYKz99RJLVqp_YJ6XKoOT4CC4ons9xuiGtYr9xo6bbat-Ld6Uw/s2048/20210826_113912.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVqnbphQYiPZ-4zm7-_bKFMc1Den6t0hGLV6oOZQ_uLjegFMLBRNI00_B4Brl9zzaZyNeULiKpg6nx_FXYT0JTHN7rfLYKz99RJLVqp_YJ6XKoOT4CC4ons9xuiGtYr9xo6bbat-Ld6Uw/w400-h225/20210826_113912.jpg" width="400" /></a></div><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Até ser integrado no Império Russo, o território era governado por um Khan e, para proteger o local de trocas que lhe garantia a riqueza, o Khan fez construir uma alta muralha de adobe e uma fortaleza, ou Ark. O Khan aí tinha os seus aposentos, as suas salas de oração, o seu harém. Aí existiam também os espaços dedicados à receção de embaixadores ou a reuniões. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kkePr8Aduh5O_hv7aELrVQPuwfwi4iKrljf026jhtNP6xUGHur8F1iLnjZHUmMWLks4LOFKpJ6ajw5-AsgPUJUfaWZyYfqIhJ_gkpH6UIcH-bS4RsnMT3DYg6tnnoh5DJyfxA1kyRPo/s2048/20210826_175202.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1466" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg2kkePr8Aduh5O_hv7aELrVQPuwfwi4iKrljf026jhtNP6xUGHur8F1iLnjZHUmMWLks4LOFKpJ6ajw5-AsgPUJUfaWZyYfqIhJ_gkpH6UIcH-bS4RsnMT3DYg6tnnoh5DJyfxA1kyRPo/w286-h400/20210826_175202.jpg" width="286" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A entrada do Ark</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yAFnxP8tPXK027XOJfRQS0HRHWZo0Vb5Pq7Kh-xYYR8X1zDFCx6goYjYH_JPY-G0CygU_NVEpulFBdpO7NkcvI-L3WXFlI7oixHhKxd9SSRo3iRBuQYO1L4MU3G2p60y-0HLEZG9X1Q/s2048/20210826_105748.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj9yAFnxP8tPXK027XOJfRQS0HRHWZo0Vb5Pq7Kh-xYYR8X1zDFCx6goYjYH_JPY-G0CygU_NVEpulFBdpO7NkcvI-L3WXFlI7oixHhKxd9SSRo3iRBuQYO1L4MU3G2p60y-0HLEZG9X1Q/w225-h400/20210826_105748.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das salas do palácio</span></td></tr></tbody></table></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Os povos nómadas das estepes recusavam-se a ser recebidos em situação de inferioridade. Para garantirem a sua igualdade de status, o Khan tinha mandado erigir, no seu pátio de receções, uma espécie de pedestal circular, largo. E era aí que o chefe de tribo montava a sua tenda, à altura do trono do Khan, e daí fazia as suas transações. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4O_TskH0tMZS1jTkKX7SyNXwD2fu11kCR_GSEUO2n1QVRiDGUSFpq0xYcSenQAf_SBkhNINahbgP6bXosN9oH1mPJSvCEoFyYFCc4tSZKs4bXkf6cxij0KX36Y_19EyfH-CaG9tE5ik/s2048/20210826_120201.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR4O_TskH0tMZS1jTkKX7SyNXwD2fu11kCR_GSEUO2n1QVRiDGUSFpq0xYcSenQAf_SBkhNINahbgP6bXosN9oH1mPJSvCEoFyYFCc4tSZKs4bXkf6cxij0KX36Y_19EyfH-CaG9tE5ik/w400-h225/20210826_120201.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma tenda à altura...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtIPmUTV2c26AzDsHW1LomhBsGFsPKcpOYKVV3JSyV09680eXjUPGUfRdSqYgzuCIqF7JXQAJtHOT3X0QjhZ4v6-wMPr9O7VogFvZr48IacbIoqeP5Qxmq35n9SnMAFEqgoPkhkJm5uA/s2048/20210826_105245.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgVtIPmUTV2c26AzDsHW1LomhBsGFsPKcpOYKVV3JSyV09680eXjUPGUfRdSqYgzuCIqF7JXQAJtHOT3X0QjhZ4v6-wMPr9O7VogFvZr48IacbIoqeP5Qxmq35n9SnMAFEqgoPkhkJm5uA/w400-h225/20210826_105245.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A mesquita do palácio</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O harém também ocupa um lugar importante, no palácio do Khan. O pátio é retangular, com portas e postigos. Tudo está definido: por onde entra e sai o Khan, mas também a mãe, ou a primeira esposa, que tem por função controlar toda a população do harém, com as suas invejas, guerrilhas e mexericos. Não devia ser tarefa fácil! Olho para os postigos fechados por onde as mulheres espreitavam para o pátio, e penso que a sua vida também não devia ser fácil. Geralmente, não estavam ali por escolha pessoal. O que sentiriam, o que pensariam? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTGdG-8QMSABPGipwSeATQoouFKNTauMaPPmsnvQHA0lXfgivwOAL70DcV_eqacvQ432vyiBQMKvBcJjBBSUCLISYHqeLkqQdRCtSDB5PBA-2ikx3jDFRxN63XyGZsnb0RgI8TBjN-Nc/s2048/20210826_121333.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzTGdG-8QMSABPGipwSeATQoouFKNTauMaPPmsnvQHA0lXfgivwOAL70DcV_eqacvQ432vyiBQMKvBcJjBBSUCLISYHqeLkqQdRCtSDB5PBA-2ikx3jDFRxN63XyGZsnb0RgI8TBjN-Nc/w400-h225/20210826_121333.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O pátio do harém</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O azul continua sempre a rodear-nos, mas aqui já não encontramos os painéis e padrões tipicos de Samarcanda. Aqui, no palácio do Khan, é como se as paredes estivessem cobertas de um pano tecido com um padrão delicado. Os azulejos repetem até ao infinito os seus pequenos padrões azuis. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Estes delicados padrões encontram-se também no mausoléu do poeta Pahlavan Mahmoud, considerado o protetor de Khiva. Mas o monumento mais imponente é, sem dúvida, o grande minarete Kalta Minor, com a sua decoração brilhante e colorida. Ficou inacabado. Como seria se tivesse sido terminado, avançando em direção ao céu? </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinWti15aMd0kyZSQ4VbZnNMrzbyU5z-S1uHYCTqnggODncbm4Im284n23jj6yIMT1RALlArI3hh6SYxSNyC22fOsrwXufStzKajx07YrZNzWrBFbtHU1qJto1uZwZLba0lfDXWFaCYOY/s2048/20210826_150024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1367" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiinWti15aMd0kyZSQ4VbZnNMrzbyU5z-S1uHYCTqnggODncbm4Im284n23jj6yIMT1RALlArI3hh6SYxSNyC22fOsrwXufStzKajx07YrZNzWrBFbtHU1qJto1uZwZLba0lfDXWFaCYOY/w268-h400/20210826_150024.jpg" width="268" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O mausoléu de Pahlavan Mahmoud</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Não consigo impedir-me de, em cada local, para qualquer época, imaginar as pessoas que ali fizeram a sua vida. Talvez por isso me tenha tocado tanto um pequeno museu que quase passa despercebido na cidade. Está situado na antiga casa de um fotógrafo, Devonov Xudoybergan. Era um curioso da fotografia, essa arte que no início do século XX estava a dar os primeiros passos. Ele fotografou muita gente da cidade, famílias, jovens casais, comerciantes com os seus camelos, os guardas do Khan. </span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5PcnzugMs1XPkAcpHj5yg4IhaQ1J1S5GhHHI1jMCL_GP2v8lC293ae2MvE-MCexCHm-WVC_v72J8LoV27rvNO1rPR2vnIgO76stFygKS7VXLVfy_3zXl4DH8YF4kyw6T5JnhUWQcGbM/s2048/20210826_153556.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg-5PcnzugMs1XPkAcpHj5yg4IhaQ1J1S5GhHHI1jMCL_GP2v8lC293ae2MvE-MCexCHm-WVC_v72J8LoV27rvNO1rPR2vnIgO76stFygKS7VXLVfy_3zXl4DH8YF4kyw6T5JnhUWQcGbM/w400-h225/20210826_153556.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As fotografias de Xudoybergan</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BYqBQZ0dwAmLe6Sm77BmvJ0HGqx75vv_zGC6LaMH6JQ3_5lRpVX9-m8HsKucXSQmPTo1dI909HaDj68XVQBkbIA4qiLZ5dqe1osIefhnEDt8nL9-aOJC9PULEnVCCVecHrT5yPw2RXg/s2048/20210826_153758.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1513" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6BYqBQZ0dwAmLe6Sm77BmvJ0HGqx75vv_zGC6LaMH6JQ3_5lRpVX9-m8HsKucXSQmPTo1dI909HaDj68XVQBkbIA4qiLZ5dqe1osIefhnEDt8nL9-aOJC9PULEnVCCVecHrT5yPw2RXg/w295-h400/20210826_153758.jpg" width="295" /></a></div><br /></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Hoje, reunidas naquela pequena casa, essas fotos mostram-nos um mundo fascinante, já desaparecido. O próprio fotógrafo desapareceu da pior maneira, preso e fuzilado como traidor da revolução, numa das frequentes e tristemente célebres purgas estalinistas, no final dos anos 30.
Mas as suas fotos ali continuam, como uma homenagem póstuma; como se o fotógrafo se perpetuasse através da sua obra, essas fotos que nos permitem espreitar para o espaço e o tempo em que viveu.</span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div><div style="text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMud0swkX9B0SjLewt64Tn5v6UGqVCVEyZxDDscPOrjyV1fzhd1qquWkJhHILBewICUgwUPlOJi0_TjkzgEUvcsmWUdM_16hgHO6uO8Kaq6gpnxiYoxF5Sx5HboJing4Mhy6ikW_3oRQ/s2048/20210826_180234.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgLMud0swkX9B0SjLewt64Tn5v6UGqVCVEyZxDDscPOrjyV1fzhd1qquWkJhHILBewICUgwUPlOJi0_TjkzgEUvcsmWUdM_16hgHO6uO8Kaq6gpnxiYoxF5Sx5HboJing4Mhy6ikW_3oRQ/w400-h225/20210826_180234.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Vista da cidade de Khiva a partir do cimo das muralhas. Em evidência o Kalta Minor,<br />o grande minarete inacabado.</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></div>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-35441441538840239372021-11-05T16:48:00.002+00:002022-11-27T19:21:05.515+00:00A Samarcanda de Tamerlão<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcov_iv4nNW386LsJ4muF1nzBG7yo5hDhlEqpn1JjS8zipvis1tq0QibASQva__kvWjg-rtl9gloK68W5Lmz-mUWdgHPh6QuUq4G5R7KnG86Sn6Gc9wJfh4GowIC4lm45VdKmaqRm2EeQ/s2048/20210825_125050.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcov_iv4nNW386LsJ4muF1nzBG7yo5hDhlEqpn1JjS8zipvis1tq0QibASQva__kvWjg-rtl9gloK68W5Lmz-mUWdgHPh6QuUq4G5R7KnG86Sn6Gc9wJfh4GowIC4lm45VdKmaqRm2EeQ/w400-h225/20210825_125050.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A majestosa Praça Registan</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O esplendor de Samarcanda atinge um ponto máximo no
reinado de Tamerlão, ou Timur, durante a segunda metade do século XIV. Nascido
numa época em que os territórios mongóis se tinham fracionado numa série de
pequenos reinos que guerreavam entre si, Tamerlão constrói um enorme império,
que se estende da Ásia Menor à Rússia e à Índia, passando pela Pérsia. A sua
capital é Samarcanda, para onde ele faz transportar as imensas riquezas
provenientes das regiões conquistadas. O resultado é um conjunto monumental de
uma beleza, originalidade e riqueza sem par.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbBcFvFVkogmy_26yNtS3aUcL6FR4szuW51wXoXuDwDXbLXTiyw0YkZeBQfvwrvEAJsZtnaR9KAo5feU0WHIZ4b6AqZ35kS9cpYgF-3MV8u9wWUgihNrsqnSwpLml6F9CFbYYK7svwc4/s2048/20210824_165558.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1382" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHbBcFvFVkogmy_26yNtS3aUcL6FR4szuW51wXoXuDwDXbLXTiyw0YkZeBQfvwrvEAJsZtnaR9KAo5feU0WHIZ4b6AqZ35kS9cpYgF-3MV8u9wWUgihNrsqnSwpLml6F9CFbYYK7svwc4/w270-h400/20210824_165558.jpg" width="270" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um pequeno mausoléu, em Shaki Zinda</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxJ_9UWwX3IyawB2WcXuOcgG0Hq0imQkU9PDVLVwK__0OeoAetpQN4yo8U8WKsRDyzd6-IM0ITzxUP-mgOKP5Djb7P2IAxbrAwOZ1QeNw9YTYcwmLr79YE1wwk4KWJNA2055qZYknth8/s2048/20210824_164806.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjgxJ_9UWwX3IyawB2WcXuOcgG0Hq0imQkU9PDVLVwK__0OeoAetpQN4yo8U8WKsRDyzd6-IM0ITzxUP-mgOKP5Djb7P2IAxbrAwOZ1QeNw9YTYcwmLr79YE1wwk4KWJNA2055qZYknth8/w225-h400/20210824_164806.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Cúpulas</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Podemos começar a descobrir a Samarcanda Timúrida na Mesquita
Bibi-Khanum, que já mencionei aqui. Foi mandada construir pela primeira esposa
de Tamerlão, uma princesa chinesa de grande beleza, a propósito da qual se
criaram muitas lendas. A mesquita era, no seu tempo, uma das maiores e mais
importantes da Ásia Central. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnWFOM3JT44If7LFzXueUrwqyT_7UaR8utRPq40esQiXvsv7D9p_sWCvZ_MKIE_tMypg2_0bR-k1iOKHeIHNmY6EBU-Fncp2zM6zjlWGw2-7wgZNwAgzp_Mu8pjy-c5V4sgmBfbOE1gA/s2048/20210824_181506.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFnWFOM3JT44If7LFzXueUrwqyT_7UaR8utRPq40esQiXvsv7D9p_sWCvZ_MKIE_tMypg2_0bR-k1iOKHeIHNmY6EBU-Fncp2zM6zjlWGw2-7wgZNwAgzp_Mu8pjy-c5V4sgmBfbOE1gA/w400-h225/20210824_181506.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Vista geral do mausoléu de Tamerlão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas Tamerlão dedicava tanto esforço e determinação às suas
conquistas como ao embelezamento da sua cidade. E surgiu o complexo
arquitetónico de Shaki-Zinda!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilYHU_Cm1_EY89_jDKQHjI8XefL64hGhymQ0qxpX1qmXJfuu-ZKBOPSCiwXjhIiqH-jLlzXWUtJgrdLSbBvzjrASXdqFh5XyXD22OAYNZI2dXC7b0orEvXgsmBU2LqqTgFUh_hyphenhyphenvvWFAg/s2048/20210824_164552.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1433" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEilYHU_Cm1_EY89_jDKQHjI8XefL64hGhymQ0qxpX1qmXJfuu-ZKBOPSCiwXjhIiqH-jLlzXWUtJgrdLSbBvzjrASXdqFh5XyXD22OAYNZI2dXC7b0orEvXgsmBU2LqqTgFUh_hyphenhyphenvvWFAg/w280-h400/20210824_164552.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O pórtico de entrada em Shaki Zinda</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WdAxZqOnbErEe6JiTQm86LQ09JccHBp69TWRPfif6UbMMZgEC5vIbtNXDsHaqGwoCJWwXRfc3A6vWai1lExp8Qq2Yuo7YP5Ghy9gDoZH7cKqucMzGK0bxr7k1Fd1SxiKwyWDNQPte0I/s2048/20210824_172914.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5WdAxZqOnbErEe6JiTQm86LQ09JccHBp69TWRPfif6UbMMZgEC5vIbtNXDsHaqGwoCJWwXRfc3A6vWai1lExp8Qq2Yuo7YP5Ghy9gDoZH7cKqucMzGK0bxr7k1Fd1SxiKwyWDNQPte0I/w225-h400/20210824_172914.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A entrada de um mausoléu</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">É um conjunto de onze mausoléus, mandados construir por
Tamerlão para servir de local de sepultura de algumas das suas mulheres e
chefes militares. Organizam-se ao longo de uma rua, à qual se ascende por um
pórtico, como o de uma mesquita ou madrassa, seguido de uma escadaria.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUT0LK8Qoa-RwzN_tIpNLP9baZN7YgDaZcQDa7wbmJMKPof0-QHZhbRnZZAADmR-6LApytDE4ZxbcAklOLrkSS2ha9dv5xACHC0hawJxFnyOaUCHBzo-daE4Mw8s5_v7ylslSL8Uagjl0/s2048/20210824_165000.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1262" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUT0LK8Qoa-RwzN_tIpNLP9baZN7YgDaZcQDa7wbmJMKPof0-QHZhbRnZZAADmR-6LApytDE4ZxbcAklOLrkSS2ha9dv5xACHC0hawJxFnyOaUCHBzo-daE4Mw8s5_v7ylslSL8Uagjl0/w246-h400/20210824_165000.jpg" width="246" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma rua rodeada de magníficos mausoléus</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5EOPgJ-IAsOFgdfbQvjyzM_wU080IWD-UKFZHKonm92mDlFnGzh4xPdn5gF77eM3Veddx1xVmQl-H5MgayHKi2AGhhwmBscJOn2kY-l6HFKj0xin35KD9gIHdFq27zlbUz95y8MHt5s/s2048/20210824_165503.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiB5EOPgJ-IAsOFgdfbQvjyzM_wU080IWD-UKFZHKonm92mDlFnGzh4xPdn5gF77eM3Veddx1xVmQl-H5MgayHKi2AGhhwmBscJOn2kY-l6HFKj0xin35KD9gIHdFq27zlbUz95y8MHt5s/w225-h400/20210824_165503.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O interior de um mausoléu</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O coração do complexo é o mausoléu de Kusam ibn Abbas, primo
do profeta Maomé que, segundo as crónicas, terá chegado a Samarcanda, para
pregar a nova fé, em 676. O mausoléu é composto por várias salas e aí se entra
através da Porta do Paraíso.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5EgEHspAND43_wZ4v_vmreEosuq_3tmA-_itHB5vrLWUPvIt0r8QMxwuBzLGejGVrtepmLFcWw5ijgSISb5Bh4Oi73O735Bjf0W8UHvLCg_KluGxPOzRMNZAMX298e1HlIv9dY58phsY/s2048/20210824_171457.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5EgEHspAND43_wZ4v_vmreEosuq_3tmA-_itHB5vrLWUPvIt0r8QMxwuBzLGejGVrtepmLFcWw5ijgSISb5Bh4Oi73O735Bjf0W8UHvLCg_KluGxPOzRMNZAMX298e1HlIv9dY58phsY/w225-h400/20210824_171457.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A porta do Paraíso</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemjs_UIUSwxPqnyh4A3dxP2foEFMks7fyNhz82QPh1Bylz6_2Vc-YNbfV97Syof5Iv-kJz3lDb7_FQRqV6oVZwwZNFOUN3QVnrQqfAcgYE_T2McW5H9w1uJ-jZA0QaW71khKAmaBDnZ0/s2048/20210824_171752.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemjs_UIUSwxPqnyh4A3dxP2foEFMks7fyNhz82QPh1Bylz6_2Vc-YNbfV97Syof5Iv-kJz3lDb7_FQRqV6oVZwwZNFOUN3QVnrQqfAcgYE_T2McW5H9w1uJ-jZA0QaW71khKAmaBDnZ0/w400-h225/20210824_171752.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Cúpula interior do túmulo de Kusam ibn Abbas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;"><br /></span></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; text-align: justify;">O seu túmulo ainda hoje atrai peregrinações. Assistimos a
uma, apenas de mulheres.</span></div></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCVTvn85zCAeX0RUO5Kg4D0ucbEZH3pR5bE-GrOEaRJld6Y_78KF3REALs-iKXWfFrC7iqm0PueNIGMUmdgXDI5PjlFUjfFalOCoZFIXV1nn3GCm_ywPf_Nts9e1zGQBZPJsOciOsqHk/s2048/IMG_20210824_173553.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWCVTvn85zCAeX0RUO5Kg4D0ucbEZH3pR5bE-GrOEaRJld6Y_78KF3REALs-iKXWfFrC7iqm0PueNIGMUmdgXDI5PjlFUjfFalOCoZFIXV1nn3GCm_ywPf_Nts9e1zGQBZPJsOciOsqHk/w300-h400/IMG_20210824_173553.jpg" width="300" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma peregrinação no feminino</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tamerlão desenvolveu o complexo de sepulcros, mandando aí
construir diversos mausoléus, que nos rodeiam naquele corredor estreito. Tanto
os interiores como os exteriores são de uma beleza e delicadeza extraordinárias,
conjugando o que de melhor se fazia no trabalho em cerâmica da época. Os
painéis de azulejo sucedem-se em padrões delicados e variados, com motivos em
alto-relevo, outros com aplicações em faiança, sempre explorando os mil matizes
do lápis-lazuli. Estamos mergulhados em azul...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuth9VBRaIERjwulV_d9T04MfOzonwvdXR2BA8pEeT5MmEm6l6ODmobl1ZFsgtlfo-UU4lVs69ecuMmgrQJDbMJAlvQ5UIVn6_OaGFnXVaCzi5Z7tlN0-is_WPpyz-dzDKG1DWoBvFDR0/s2048/20210824_172536.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjuth9VBRaIERjwulV_d9T04MfOzonwvdXR2BA8pEeT5MmEm6l6ODmobl1ZFsgtlfo-UU4lVs69ecuMmgrQJDbMJAlvQ5UIVn6_OaGFnXVaCzi5Z7tlN0-is_WPpyz-dzDKG1DWoBvFDR0/w400-h225/20210824_172536.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Mergulhados em azul...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O complexo de Shaki-Zinda foi dos locais mais deslumbrantes
onde já estive. Os nossos sentidos deixam-se inebriar pelos padrões azuis que
nos rodeiam, tornando até difícil encontrar palavras que descrevam a magia do
lugar.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQZY1EjRrxF5E8wIQ7UQSHI4HxuiiSqT37TjiapgdfbFbREiZI4Byxqrs_f23y00tWqcjZPJ-zs8CokSYUNFx-SqXjmBP1quFqicgBLwQ9I5qGhPoY3r16e6OKzpIv3rDc9P7kaMzQd4/s2048/IMG_20210824_165355.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1713" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIQZY1EjRrxF5E8wIQ7UQSHI4HxuiiSqT37TjiapgdfbFbREiZI4Byxqrs_f23y00tWqcjZPJ-zs8CokSYUNFx-SqXjmBP1quFqicgBLwQ9I5qGhPoY3r16e6OKzpIv3rDc9P7kaMzQd4/w335-h400/IMG_20210824_165355.jpg" width="335" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Sucedem-se os padrões de cerâmica</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tamerlão, evidentemente, teria de construir para si próprio
um mausoléu ainda maior e mais espetacular. É o mausoléu Guri Emir, projetado
por ele próprio, e que acabou por servir de inspiração a outros mausoléus
mongóis, como o Taj Mahal.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzwI9x0VdUmsYTMCoTaueg9jgR7dTdHR_ymAR1xIZyKFl_-4YwBhmKjhy-qEGXuq7LYQA9mBhAKxoG5C43LRXmoyM9ZP4btxWUaVEGX93vPeoXSkSJpdODBXRKbK29G3Ik6C2ObxhT8Q/s2048/IMG_20210824_181652.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1870" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgtzwI9x0VdUmsYTMCoTaueg9jgR7dTdHR_ymAR1xIZyKFl_-4YwBhmKjhy-qEGXuq7LYQA9mBhAKxoG5C43LRXmoyM9ZP4btxWUaVEGX93vPeoXSkSJpdODBXRKbK29G3Ik6C2ObxhT8Q/w365-h400/IMG_20210824_181652.jpg" width="365" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O mausoléu de Tamerlão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9PnXEfBks9dBAzg6ydKmm65ySChPXUKhCglh2UQmPUdo5QzXJsYU15CKFaWJQFF1E1OyttcxJD48kM44jD4GlkwY5cyANgb3U-77b8I1IYqz2oh7qklbmYCe37PsoGdeRXOtcfmzBp0/s2048/IMG_20210824_182814.jpg"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1625" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_9PnXEfBks9dBAzg6ydKmm65ySChPXUKhCglh2UQmPUdo5QzXJsYU15CKFaWJQFF1E1OyttcxJD48kM44jD4GlkwY5cyANgb3U-77b8I1IYqz2oh7qklbmYCe37PsoGdeRXOtcfmzBp0/w318-h400/IMG_20210824_182814.jpg" width="318" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><br /></div></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Se o exterior é imponente, é o interior que é impressionante.
O seu túmulo é um enorme bloco de jade verde, o maior do mundo, e a sala onde
repousa é toda trabalhada em padrões minuciosos e recamada a ouro. Parece que
há uma maldição para quem tentar roubar o túmulo! E parece que já funcionou! </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Junto de Tamerlão, estão os túmulos de outros membros da sua
família, como o do seu neto Ulugh-Bek, sobre o qual já aqui escrevi.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfOT_0f4Cpjd4oyCkhVQOWTdXxSdw0qhtkgGk3lTnE19_rmz9LI8_pzThNzh8PlslZDrw33RzvbjRQovPdlhOrgmyCkGAWGYPNiPtcvPba5HTfQtgJZDDTQxVAo7TFD0YT_PwgztAZcU/s2048/20210824_183657.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmfOT_0f4Cpjd4oyCkhVQOWTdXxSdw0qhtkgGk3lTnE19_rmz9LI8_pzThNzh8PlslZDrw33RzvbjRQovPdlhOrgmyCkGAWGYPNiPtcvPba5HTfQtgJZDDTQxVAo7TFD0YT_PwgztAZcU/w225-h400/20210824_183657.jpg" width="225" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpxq2R-JmBABW_pte4Wak7Pzj_hGr3zDAReZufBihfXSDQu_jrWGKcahTikB1QBYpphtA-srbMn34yPkLap0ZqTSNwyMMRtp3XK6Bx9Jpw9EP8-xcqV_ar4NV4s-Xm4Na0hhg8K9A0Kw/s2048/IMG_20210824_184021.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1536" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhrpxq2R-JmBABW_pte4Wak7Pzj_hGr3zDAReZufBihfXSDQu_jrWGKcahTikB1QBYpphtA-srbMn34yPkLap0ZqTSNwyMMRtp3XK6Bx9Jpw9EP8-xcqV_ar4NV4s-Xm4Na0hhg8K9A0Kw/w300-h400/IMG_20210824_184021.jpg" width="300" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O impressionante interior do mausoléu de Tamerlão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Este astrónomo e matemático foi o responsável pela construção
da madrassa Ulugh-Bek, na praça central da cidade, que ele queria converter num
centro inteletual da Ásia Central. Aí se ensinou o que de mais avançado
produzia a ciência de então.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4SC0xgnQhJOHmZC-BNR-gqGjheMyHzFEmAFtMkBhYmYQ_rN2i6JoQmq62nSde-y69SD4NNchvOLW6VZ44Luy-2ldmvqOINJpkVwDqZx0wyqxlqrJmZB8duVT_imvVMhAvkUztxbwV0g/s2048/20210825_124512.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgd4SC0xgnQhJOHmZC-BNR-gqGjheMyHzFEmAFtMkBhYmYQ_rN2i6JoQmq62nSde-y69SD4NNchvOLW6VZ44Luy-2ldmvqOINJpkVwDqZx0wyqxlqrJmZB8duVT_imvVMhAvkUztxbwV0g/w400-h225/20210825_124512.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Álea lateral da Praça Registan</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A praça central de Samarcanda, a Praça Registan, cresceu e
organizou-se a partir dessa madrassa. É o coração da cidade e, ao mesmo tempo,
uma jóia preciosa. </span></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Rodeiam a praça três madrassas majestosas, definindo um
espaço de grande equilíbrio e beleza, que eu quase poderia apelidar de
cinematográfico.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlj9PaAIs2AFG5w5wtH3ac6HwhyphenhyphenOnVH0XkM9BS-4n-3h2RaBNd_fi5kq9-7o6mGc4G9zpuPm8wh-LNSoW__OSksy1qa7NylCZvRxKwRExtxY6vOtJ9e2BmOq9gJzHL0DxhFlCqYUAevKQ/s2048/20210825_124856.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlj9PaAIs2AFG5w5wtH3ac6HwhyphenhyphenOnVH0XkM9BS-4n-3h2RaBNd_fi5kq9-7o6mGc4G9zpuPm8wh-LNSoW__OSksy1qa7NylCZvRxKwRExtxY6vOtJ9e2BmOq9gJzHL0DxhFlCqYUAevKQ/w400-h225/20210825_124856.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Praça Registan</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A madrassa Ulugh-Bek foi, como já disse, a primeira a ser
construída. Devia ser um grande centro intelectual, por isso o interior tem um
grande número de celas para os estudantes pernoitarem e salas de aprendizagem.
No topo da fachada, os padrões de estrelas de dez pontas simbolizam o céu e a
astrologia, dando pistas sobre o fundamento dos estudos que aí se concentravam.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoaafuJ2isQnKjb6wfqGUFMJQk8QdVXa1vg3B3gDvWshHkMoy-WsuLe9riWHFlzW9VRkNjPEBIZidRcJsh9H5BuzwIt4i6MT2TA1UvlDHChb5b25KfaxbEc7EIOAUdui86tFKTnu0lbyI/s2048/20210825_124750.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1113" data-original-width="2048" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoaafuJ2isQnKjb6wfqGUFMJQk8QdVXa1vg3B3gDvWshHkMoy-WsuLe9riWHFlzW9VRkNjPEBIZidRcJsh9H5BuzwIt4i6MT2TA1UvlDHChb5b25KfaxbEc7EIOAUdui86tFKTnu0lbyI/w400-h217/20210825_124750.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A madrassa Ulugh Bek, com as estrelas na fachada<br /><br /></span></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaXA-k2YkS5Y7TJPoGCxhlQlDiHE-DStErqG2Pgs21U-iSTAr9YHn45oRrDCeWzKyToLWkRAb9WnHDfxsqm5SzIqeu1EpilYij4EhCvZF1NRHQBVV85c1C8SpaZSs2pVWxWSGUNjorVM/s2048/20210825_131345.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHaXA-k2YkS5Y7TJPoGCxhlQlDiHE-DStErqG2Pgs21U-iSTAr9YHn45oRrDCeWzKyToLWkRAb9WnHDfxsqm5SzIqeu1EpilYij4EhCvZF1NRHQBVV85c1C8SpaZSs2pVWxWSGUNjorVM/w225-h400/20210825_131345.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As antigas celas estão transformadas em lojas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No lado oposto da praça, foi construída outra madrassa, cerca
de duzenos anos depois, a madrassa Shir Dor. Devia servir como espelho da
primeira, mas acabou por ser um pouco mais alta e elaborada. O seu nome advém
dos dois tigres dourados que adornam a fachada, numa representação animal pouco
comum no mundo islâmico.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKOivSUwN_BwLKNhWtoqYxZG9E1xA72X02tI4Ce9cZBoFnmXGLoiiNlmdIUna60cq9Pd1movxDtXw4KXz-WOprPQM7iSca3vxj_V7r6hagYUtdlgc_Lh8_IQ181HyEV_LH75U93G4qmw/s2048/20210825_132507.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1320" data-original-width="2048" height="258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjRKOivSUwN_BwLKNhWtoqYxZG9E1xA72X02tI4Ce9cZBoFnmXGLoiiNlmdIUna60cq9Pd1movxDtXw4KXz-WOprPQM7iSca3vxj_V7r6hagYUtdlgc_Lh8_IQ181HyEV_LH75U93G4qmw/w400-h258/20210825_132507.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A madrassa Shir Dor</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Estas duas madrassas enquadram um terceiro edifício, mandado
construir no topo norte da praça, onde antes existia um caravanserai. É a
madrassa Tilla Kori, que significa feito de ouro e, efetivamente, o seu interior
onde os pormenores dourados pontuam é impressionante.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbX1gI8SOj0NX11rqG5Xi39V1iaaSXC8j1XnShM1V8PGkGOqWhQX8f5bNAGCk076eNAl2JcacxJi5HxlCSMEiX9XNoWlXNEKRKtPp194csCF2AMdP1E5r8Pi9IYGyzaKg4MdwFSA5R53Q/s2048/20210825_133008.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbX1gI8SOj0NX11rqG5Xi39V1iaaSXC8j1XnShM1V8PGkGOqWhQX8f5bNAGCk076eNAl2JcacxJi5HxlCSMEiX9XNoWlXNEKRKtPp194csCF2AMdP1E5r8Pi9IYGyzaKg4MdwFSA5R53Q/w225-h400/20210825_133008.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O interior da madrassa Tilla Kori</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mas a sua fachada não o é menos: o grande nicho subdividido
da entrada, ladeado de varandins e terminado por um delicado minarete em cada
esquina, completam da melhor forma a grande praça.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hKMMy-uNp6kLAuo4UaDfRlegN5XzqMfCstkn_G1UXAtXxoSuWuTyLksZ-g9nUddHTK3ZRdmr0IHyFAHzyt_TQww8KFI3HiN2g1aRCnZDybdlztE6UndfzSlG3A6rsrKWb2wcsWLLNDo/s2048/20210825_132638.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7hKMMy-uNp6kLAuo4UaDfRlegN5XzqMfCstkn_G1UXAtXxoSuWuTyLksZ-g9nUddHTK3ZRdmr0IHyFAHzyt_TQww8KFI3HiN2g1aRCnZDybdlztE6UndfzSlG3A6rsrKWb2wcsWLLNDo/w400-h225/20210825_132638.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das alas laterais da madrassa Tilla Kori</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Todo o conjunto é espetacular e protegido pela UNESCO. Mas
parece ter também ganho o coração dos habitantes de Samarcanda: todos os dias
aí se juntam noivos e convidados de muitas cerimónias de casamento, que parecem
achar que não pode existir melhor cenário para as suas fotografias. E eu
concordo!</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSopOrre1rOJe1GEEE_rTto7TpT5S2f-aEUzlI5dJuFnPjQg58pR-jDMJjWO8-S-CEum94g74q3No62Ly99O6FrnCgFnBfs31OZSYvivkTQe-P9wSPhWA39_axuMXaUZMN1L-w0rPZnA/s2048/20210825_125409.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1610" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGSopOrre1rOJe1GEEE_rTto7TpT5S2f-aEUzlI5dJuFnPjQg58pR-jDMJjWO8-S-CEum94g74q3No62Ly99O6FrnCgFnBfs31OZSYvivkTQe-P9wSPhWA39_axuMXaUZMN1L-w0rPZnA/w315-h400/20210825_125409.jpg" width="315" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um casamento em Samarcanda...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-61323436562571203922021-10-10T18:22:00.001+01:002022-11-27T19:14:22.222+00:00A mítica Samarcanda<p style="text-align: justify;"></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnLtzFm8atL9e48cX8O1yLr35HwL6WT1fi0bPkWQP1c6a0IFPzlfpwOJf6zy-gXh2OBheYOQtinKcxdt_RC5HaP6VW3TgqCG5phFvvvkI4G-x2cH7X6K4s8bFRYpkmxgPCdDSvPfuFZs/s2048/20210825_114832.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijnLtzFm8atL9e48cX8O1yLr35HwL6WT1fi0bPkWQP1c6a0IFPzlfpwOJf6zy-gXh2OBheYOQtinKcxdt_RC5HaP6VW3TgqCG5phFvvvkI4G-x2cH7X6K4s8bFRYpkmxgPCdDSvPfuFZs/w400-h225/20210825_114832.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Mesquita Bibi-Khanum</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Samarcanda...
Só dizer o nome, devagar, saboreando as sílabas, é o suficiente para evocarmos
toda a magia da Rota da Seda. No nosso espírito, passam caravanas de camelos,
carregados dos produtos mais ricos e apetecidos de todos os cantos da Terra
conhecida. Evocamos a sua caminhada vagarosa, entre desertos, montanhas, vales
férteis, em viagens que chegavam a durar três anos. Ouvimos o ruído dos
bazares, cheio de línguas diferentes. Sentimos os cheiros, percebemos as cores
brilhantes. Para nós, Samarcanda resume toda a mística e exotismo do Oriente.</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6tGtCZjKLwKxUaPthLdqTZot9MPMbFGf3BCMeTz9HXSgNENDClQo_B6s46CcKjyWKiiiNJdbhvBGRxupUbBRBWVuwJwnsHd1C3MQvb-kAHlHwpjD5QvYkFdUTOlxXtdSkmS8Now4F8w/s2048/20210825_120907.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiT6tGtCZjKLwKxUaPthLdqTZot9MPMbFGf3BCMeTz9HXSgNENDClQo_B6s46CcKjyWKiiiNJdbhvBGRxupUbBRBWVuwJwnsHd1C3MQvb-kAHlHwpjD5QvYkFdUTOlxXtdSkmS8Now4F8w/w400-h225/20210825_120907.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Banca de frutos secos no Mercado Siab</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">É claro que
eu sei que a ideia de Oriente é uma construção do Ocidente. O que para nós é
exótico, constitui o modo de vida desses povos. Mas, seja como for, construiu o
imaginário ocidental e é em busca desse imaginário que eu vou, sem esquecer a
realidade presente, na qual todos nos movimentamos.</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8t5mXIZ3UMMm98j_WF3dJeCufGwZFMois6PKB0ksm5UFWL9mbphmXeEEEkMzmPJboNyJQVNwIcHBkolo35gN4U-wg7ThnQYkeb5MnJsTFwndMRbJhXhYinelWj3pGRxqaOsLlZbdY-OM/s2048/20210825_113924.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi8t5mXIZ3UMMm98j_WF3dJeCufGwZFMois6PKB0ksm5UFWL9mbphmXeEEEkMzmPJboNyJQVNwIcHBkolo35gN4U-wg7ThnQYkeb5MnJsTFwndMRbJhXhYinelWj3pGRxqaOsLlZbdY-OM/w225-h400/20210825_113924.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os minaretes da Mesquita Bibi Khanum</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Samarcanda é
das cidades mais antigas da Ásia Central, habitada continuamente desde o século
VIII ou VII a.C. A sua prosperidade baseia-se na sua posição geográfica
privilegiada, a meio caminho entre a China e o Mediterrâneo. Os primeiros povos
a explorarem as possibilidades comerciais dessa localização, foram os
Sogdianos. Os crânios alongados destas populações, encontrados nas escavações
arqueológicas, alimentaram todo o tipo de especulações sensacionalistas, até a
investigação histórica ter trazido menos espetáculo e mais sensatez à questão.
Os crânios, com a sua forma peculiar, aí estão, no Museu Arquelógico de Samarcanda.</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOueRAW1ppI7RnSHm0PF_uXPhu2_hhQA8PbXwMgDetlcCmOd8poVIkPWqi_brv8W1lHNSREBMYiNXKLM8SUVpagzOw2WoWfOJf6YRuzlMV6hil4LXE5ApMmzW3uCER4ZRkeQWLijWDQnY/s2048/20210825_102618.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiOueRAW1ppI7RnSHm0PF_uXPhu2_hhQA8PbXwMgDetlcCmOd8poVIkPWqi_brv8W1lHNSREBMYiNXKLM8SUVpagzOw2WoWfOJf6YRuzlMV6hil4LXE5ApMmzW3uCER4ZRkeQWLijWDQnY/w400-h225/20210825_102618.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Crânios de Sogdianos no Museu Afrossiab</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A visita a
Samarcanda pode bem começar por este pequeno museu arqueológico, chamado Museu
Afrossiab, do nome antigo de Samarcanda. A jóia deste museu é um fresco do
século VII que ocupa as quatro paredes de uma sala e reconstitui a chegada e o
encontro de cavaleiros e mercadores de regiões longínquas, como a China. O que
resta do fresco atesta a antiguidade das relações comerciais que aqui se
estabeleceram.</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRGPzk7OfHppWPicEC3cz5wtRd4d3s5MAzFVZV9nnP0Ue3p3b-aSeZEbWm37fvdVJ5H420n1KVFCa5OQm-VHgrjj9qO6evgUFqxwfQNFjyiSsZrtLBX6SHt2Ouxx0CBpXpIGnnMN8KEhg/s2048/20210825_100225.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1227" data-original-width="2048" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgRGPzk7OfHppWPicEC3cz5wtRd4d3s5MAzFVZV9nnP0Ue3p3b-aSeZEbWm37fvdVJ5H420n1KVFCa5OQm-VHgrjj9qO6evgUFqxwfQNFjyiSsZrtLBX6SHt2Ouxx0CBpXpIGnnMN8KEhg/w400-h240/20210825_100225.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Antigos estudiosos e mercadores na fachada do Museu Arqueológico de Samarcanda</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: black; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Outro local
interessante e imperdível é o mausoléu do Profeta Daniel. É interessante porque
a própria existência desta personagem bíblica é questionada e nada mais nada
menos do que seis cidades reclamam para si a honra de possuírem o túmulo do
profeta. Mas é imperdível pela próprias características do túmulo. A urna que
supostamente contém os seus restos mortais é enorme, talvez com uns cinco ou
seis metros. A razão dada é que os ossos do profeta crescem continuamente, uns
centímetros por ano. Outra explicação, talvez com mais fundamento, defende que
a urna tem aquele tamanho descomunal para dissuadir eventuais ladrões de
túmulos. Seja como for, o mausoléu é um local de peregrinação importante, tanto
para cristãos como para muçulmanos.</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjETdtzqmP62jQttilZE-1jGW8SJDUYoLL_nrlZh0UwnB34VhyjbXJxl2nh6AUtvVwHyoxaFjoF68bTQpTdQ-LViZRMFJX7m1Pt86WtGwKFGHR8JmNS6rQefR-1qQcAGJwhfuIBldCPHEs/s2048/20210825_092544.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjETdtzqmP62jQttilZE-1jGW8SJDUYoLL_nrlZh0UwnB34VhyjbXJxl2nh6AUtvVwHyoxaFjoF68bTQpTdQ-LViZRMFJX7m1Pt86WtGwKFGHR8JmNS6rQefR-1qQcAGJwhfuIBldCPHEs/w400-h225/20210825_092544.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O mausoléu de Daniel, na montanha</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdM5veVUYZFOx6aTevd_lZ_8354g2JxBUJxG1jpXA52MdgMAmWZzVMVipHWW5-2-3w_5SuGwd0ZXtLk59qlAXlcDMI0ZEBp6PQnvZ-6gv4FHJCv2G_3t7lKpNbDZhVrx1nHQtkn0iNuo/s2048/20210825_093147.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhmdM5veVUYZFOx6aTevd_lZ_8354g2JxBUJxG1jpXA52MdgMAmWZzVMVipHWW5-2-3w_5SuGwd0ZXtLk59qlAXlcDMI0ZEBp6PQnvZ-6gv4FHJCv2G_3t7lKpNbDZhVrx1nHQtkn0iNuo/w400-h225/20210825_093147.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A imensa urna do profeta Daniel</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhRM2DWJq5BIw3oqUvHqmyhaa0tB38YBCsfjMS6l2iVzzBh8ObRSA7W6lOq82Zx7kHnmeLFlsPuTPmh6H7KyDe5sbLDEToBN-_jKy9JzZ4dhofqwPB9eGUNy59w6YYW6X56SA89sZzb9Ac/w400-h225/20210825_093109.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A sala de acolhimento dos peregrinos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Os pontos
mais monumentais na cidade de Samarcanda pertencem ao período de domínio de
Timur, ou Tamerlão, como o conhecemos aqui na Europa. Depois da destruição
generalizada que as invasões de Gengis-Khan tinham provocado, Tamerlão
estabelece um novo império e Samarcanda é a sua capital. Conhecido pelas suas
ações cruéis e impiedosas, parece ter orientado para o embelezamento da cidade
tudo o que em si houvesse de sensível e artístico. O esplendor da Samarcanda da
dinastia Timúrida é insuperável e ainda hoje nos deixa de respiração suspensa.
Ficará para o <a href="https://olharesviajantes.blogspot.com/2021/11/a-samarcanda-de-tamerlao.html" target="_blank">próximo post</a>...</span></span><span style="color: black; font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj313oisU0_jRGxW9VrJhP0acC8SV4yp1OZDO0GEmjb2o4bG_YazTHcbLlv5RPSwOFT2uxNPxCfdjcpSIki-USRO2QjOBQGfkfLlESPJ5piOofMMiEMqXuYjx5uyuNMY7bpnEYSJ04eTu4/s2048/20210824_164904.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj313oisU0_jRGxW9VrJhP0acC8SV4yp1OZDO0GEmjb2o4bG_YazTHcbLlv5RPSwOFT2uxNPxCfdjcpSIki-USRO2QjOBQGfkfLlESPJ5piOofMMiEMqXuYjx5uyuNMY7bpnEYSJ04eTu4/w225-h400/20210824_164904.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No complexo Shaki Zinda, a modernidade cruza-se com o esplendor timúrida</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 115%;"><span style="color: #444444;">Não quero,
todavia, deixar de mencionar aqui uma obra surpreendente, pelo menos para o
visitante europeu: o observatório astronómico de Ulugh-Bek.</span></span><span style="color: black; line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBY6HWjS2136eSH77BCUylkN2BVdtAdPHQjui6vDU2h-AM8o-ko7q0v3M1GxSP4C40errmoiZmaI7u1m8rovNnyYxj9_glGe86FCEy7t26mOKB7Gdm1g0R-KfUJ3jZLOrky85ynCWeYw/s2048/20210825_085547.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1375" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmBY6HWjS2136eSH77BCUylkN2BVdtAdPHQjui6vDU2h-AM8o-ko7q0v3M1GxSP4C40errmoiZmaI7u1m8rovNnyYxj9_glGe86FCEy7t26mOKB7Gdm1g0R-KfUJ3jZLOrky85ynCWeYw/w269-h400/20210825_085547.jpg" width="269" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Estátua de Ulugh Bek, junto ao observatório</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Ulugh-Bek era
neto de Tamerlão e chegou a governar este território no século XV. No entanto,
a sua paixão era a matemática e a astronomia. Construiu uma madrassa, onde
também ensinou, e um enorme observatório astronómico, em Samarcanda. Aí,
determinou a posição de centenas de estrelas, corrigindo as tabelas árabes e
fazendo observações originais e muito avançadas no seu tempo. O que resta do
observatório é, ainda hoje, impressionante, e um pequeno centro interpretativo
ajuda-nos a compreender melhor a sua obra. O que eu não compreendo é que o nome
de Ulugh-Bek não figure nos nossos manuais de História da Ciência, ao lado de
Copérnico e Galileu. Os contemporâneos também não o valorizaram muito: fosse
pela sua inabilidade política, fosse pelo seu insuficiente fervor religioso, foi mandado matar pelo seu próprio filho.</span>Valeu-lhe um
astrónomo alemão, que no século XIX batizou com o seu nome uma cratera na Lua!</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGcMH49Y8hRUO0rdP48edoHVAl0pU1sYmE9HAEQ998R8wxKITzJBTRG7Dw3Hfi5bHLtH-wVOKHhXUo3s-H66QApYCeZz0dmX6kg-zjzN4WtUc1e8-M4kGKCacdlzInPGZ6874xYVhkrw/s2048/20210825_090720.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1458" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYGcMH49Y8hRUO0rdP48edoHVAl0pU1sYmE9HAEQ998R8wxKITzJBTRG7Dw3Hfi5bHLtH-wVOKHhXUo3s-H66QApYCeZz0dmX6kg-zjzN4WtUc1e8-M4kGKCacdlzInPGZ6874xYVhkrw/w285-h400/20210825_090720.jpg" width="285" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Reconstituição do observatório (maquete no centro interpretativo)</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEphqlNmLyzSq-KTu5U1UoE2IpGRKHd0NMEfKIMvRgmstPQqEuOtTzDENouAza-4D3BVJcw0T-1BHKSC9a4NGkJs68wtoFthMV7uNnAeUY1AMj0sWi9rfrzaFhW5j25cCb2NapwjnNiI/s2048/20210825_091045.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1432" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhAEphqlNmLyzSq-KTu5U1UoE2IpGRKHd0NMEfKIMvRgmstPQqEuOtTzDENouAza-4D3BVJcw0T-1BHKSC9a4NGkJs68wtoFthMV7uNnAeUY1AMj0sWi9rfrzaFhW5j25cCb2NapwjnNiI/w280-h400/20210825_091045.jpg" width="280" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Limpezas matinais no observatório...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-ascii-font-family: Calibri; mso-bidi-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT; mso-hansi-font-family: Calibri;">Próximo da
mesquita Bibi Khanum, mandada construir pela esposa de Tamerlão, situa-se ainda
hoje o mercado Siab, o bazar mais importante da cidade. Fomos visitá-lo, na
ideia de comprar uma espécie de torrão doce, típico da região. É um mercado
enorme, onde se vende de tudo, desde chapéus a especiarias. Lá encontramos o
torrão, que compramos, assim como outras curiosidades, como melão seco
entrançado. Aí encontrei também a simpatia e gentileza do povo uzbeque.</span><span style="line-height: 115%; mso-fareast-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-language: PT;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-P3HefvXlnuOLWAZJaJIX2H2tmGvPMViLkJg3lTuQrNZu-cE26LWL2_IURgMwUlK8wfFjnMuFxFdybi7c9MhCSzgDpa5zgr_hZ80MqrLPhWwwwkrOWmencahdCL2lygeEidPzXVVNx7w/s2048/20210825_122234.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-P3HefvXlnuOLWAZJaJIX2H2tmGvPMViLkJg3lTuQrNZu-cE26LWL2_IURgMwUlK8wfFjnMuFxFdybi7c9MhCSzgDpa5zgr_hZ80MqrLPhWwwwkrOWmencahdCL2lygeEidPzXVVNx7w/w400-h225/20210825_122234.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Banca de venda de chapéus, no mercado Siab</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><span style="line-height: 115%;">Nesse
mercado, três rapariguinhas vieram ter comigo, ansiosas por mostrarem o seu
domínio da língua inglesa, ainda pouco vulgar no país. Conversámos um pouco,
tirámos fotografias... Podiam ser minhas alunas!<span> </span></span><span>Em
Samarcanda, fui surpreendida pela simpatia e quase ingenuidade dos uzbeques,
que nos interpelavam, por vezes apenas para tirarem uma fotografia. Falei com
mulheres uzbeques, mesmo quando não partilhávamos nenhuma língua, comunicando
apenas pelo sorriso e pelo coração.</span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5gbCLvrZh6yByoucoa4Yj5JFp9w6C7BZXv3FeBjOu9wmSp0nWmn_Q-qwV_-o3mKAMzg6rloq3J6Wmdorrg2xv2iTYCsYVPAoLDHwotTQDXcSY9HV0cskWHJ5wpTmbjrwvkxHpPWdSp2k/s2048/IMG-20210825-WA0012.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1536" data-original-width="2048" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5gbCLvrZh6yByoucoa4Yj5JFp9w6C7BZXv3FeBjOu9wmSp0nWmn_Q-qwV_-o3mKAMzg6rloq3J6Wmdorrg2xv2iTYCsYVPAoLDHwotTQDXcSY9HV0cskWHJ5wpTmbjrwvkxHpPWdSp2k/w400-h300/IMG-20210825-WA0012.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entre mulheres...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 115%; margin-bottom: 0cm; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444;"><span style="font-family: verdana; line-height: 115%;">Hoje,
lembro-me dessas mulheres e das rapariguinhas no mercado e, nestes tempos
conturbados pelo fundamentalismo, desejo-lhes muita força e um mundo um pouco
menos hostil.</span><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman", serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 107%;"><o:p><span style="color: #444444;"> </span></o:p></span></p><br /><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-29235296384977858772021-09-26T18:15:00.001+01:002021-09-26T18:15:34.022+01:00Bukhara - Emires, mercadores e outros viajantes<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxB7iFbAbugCRvgehWImTlgnm_a68sNfQhALRY1fqsKy5QUvthLbjxR0ZizxQdYN3cS116pJRaunCGTKoRF73BvDXAfSm0GHGt95F32cx0Kd5D_iI8AnbUtkxUcpQFo38n6JNveUoUKs/s2048/20210822_121852_2.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1421" data-original-width="2048" height="278" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhIxB7iFbAbugCRvgehWImTlgnm_a68sNfQhALRY1fqsKy5QUvthLbjxR0ZizxQdYN3cS116pJRaunCGTKoRF73BvDXAfSm0GHGt95F32cx0Kd5D_iI8AnbUtkxUcpQFo38n6JNveUoUKs/w400-h278/20210822_121852_2.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Fotografias dos últimos Emires de Bukhara, numa das salas do Palácio de Verão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Bukhara é uma cidade muito bela e imponente, Património da
Humanidade pela UNESCO. Mas a riqueza que agora observamos, nos monumentos e
espaços da cidade, provinha da sua localização privilegiada, no coração da Rota
da Seda. <o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7Uh4hyphenhyphensGsVKd1uOkl4yz-tbGkmwO2O3jIT6HcQ68PadxygZIFJQtXwpqRlFn5Y_3gcX4Z-9AX3ou1cF8u6M4WNGpaD2iMnHiEs4OCFMMSWM8m984eKFm2qAxqqPF87j7YLblh-VXxa4/s2048/20210823_105838.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgs7Uh4hyphenhyphensGsVKd1uOkl4yz-tbGkmwO2O3jIT6HcQ68PadxygZIFJQtXwpqRlFn5Y_3gcX4Z-9AX3ou1cF8u6M4WNGpaD2iMnHiEs4OCFMMSWM8m984eKFm2qAxqqPF87j7YLblh-VXxa4/w400-h225/20210823_105838.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Conjunto escultórico evocativo das caravanas da Rota da Seda</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Os bazares e cúpulas de comércio revelam bem a sua
importância: chegaram a existir mais de 40 bazares, 20 caravanserais, 6 Tiks
(casas comerciais) 3 Toks (cúpulas comerciais, com múltiplas entradas). Estas
cúpulas comerciais estão cuidadosamente preservadas e visitámos as três: a
Tok-i-Furushon, onde se vendiam chatéus e gorros de pele; a Tok-i-Zargason,
onde se transacionavam jóias e pedras preciosas; e a mais importante de todas,
a Tok dos banqueiros, Tok-i-Safaron, onde se faziam as transações comerciais em
diferentes moedas, da China, da Rússia, da Turquia... Todos continuam a
funcionar como lojas e bazares, ao fim e ao cabo como representações vivas e
pujantes da sua história.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF9o7n4RN6uYq-dpbeBieV-AREmR7vmGCBDIJjszrf9tVVBuLm9Xdk2msYwsiC32Fpxv37hQsfaQVFWUFCG5aEke7YiAFZBFZxvpOr9TeSeOieAdsEYeJK6A16BrqMfF192yC7US26kjo/s2048/20210823_160458.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiF9o7n4RN6uYq-dpbeBieV-AREmR7vmGCBDIJjszrf9tVVBuLm9Xdk2msYwsiC32Fpxv37hQsfaQVFWUFCG5aEke7YiAFZBFZxvpOr9TeSeOieAdsEYeJK6A16BrqMfF192yC7US26kjo/w400-h225/20210823_160458.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Tok-i-Furushon</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1-qRub7m3vnDREw42SA6jEeeLzP-uWKGXUhyD7PzuFNWrHZsw84s_3yZ7NFtkG8SoH7-qzDFtQBXiEulDxhsCHVEru6tdkiuJdRofLoXVcIp-NHoAQmWbQXYkVH9tpSh-NJMXO8oPNYI/s2048/20210823_155638.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1-qRub7m3vnDREw42SA6jEeeLzP-uWKGXUhyD7PzuFNWrHZsw84s_3yZ7NFtkG8SoH7-qzDFtQBXiEulDxhsCHVEru6tdkiuJdRofLoXVcIp-NHoAQmWbQXYkVH9tpSh-NJMXO8oPNYI/w225-h400/20210823_155638.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Dentro do bazar</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Aqui vendia-se de tudo e trocavam-se os bens mais apetecidos
de todos os cantos da Terra conhecida. As sedas e porcelanas chinesas. Os
tapetes persas. As especiarias da India, do Ceilão, das Molucas. As peles e
madeiras preciosas das estepes russas. Escravos negros como ébano da Abissínia
e escravos loiros de pele clara das planuras eslavas. Aqui se trocavam também
informações e ideias, novos conceitos matemáticos, invenções transformadoras,
como o papel ou a pólvora. Aqui chegou também Marco Polo, abrindo as rotas
europeias aos novos produtos e ideias. Tudo lhe pareceu tão extraordinário que
escreveu um livro sobre todas essas maravilhas; o “Livro das Maravilhas do
Mundo” haveria de alimentar o imaginário europeu durante mais de um século.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UfWNbKfUV-Q7b5-RheAJXrNX79wLAqrJCb1sMD-SL1s_Kub7oXC6ewJVfCwZAHxYho1s9dADpyJv8vrxqIjcYoQTiqklxriOaF8-mxzfeaex6jXyES-4_r-P2JaAcvUBaalSrDtRpzA/s2048/20210823_170240.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3UfWNbKfUV-Q7b5-RheAJXrNX79wLAqrJCb1sMD-SL1s_Kub7oXC6ewJVfCwZAHxYho1s9dADpyJv8vrxqIjcYoQTiqklxriOaF8-mxzfeaex6jXyES-4_r-P2JaAcvUBaalSrDtRpzA/w400-h225/20210823_170240.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A venda das especiarias</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtGAZkL19tyegRRcBRZbkU_CjMu_80jNtSR74NS8duJulSoZzDJ8DgSx3yOjoMZykjD5fJ_m1r85in50eCV5bp3OHPwBW7KbHnXXODBMwt9mBxq1vbqHJHkNIGS3rBrc5uPCr2fmxNd8/s2048/20210823_155916.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwtGAZkL19tyegRRcBRZbkU_CjMu_80jNtSR74NS8duJulSoZzDJ8DgSx3yOjoMZykjD5fJ_m1r85in50eCV5bp3OHPwBW7KbHnXXODBMwt9mBxq1vbqHJHkNIGS3rBrc5uPCr2fmxNd8/w225-h400/20210823_155916.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A cúpula de um<i> tok </i>comercial</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi795RRGz4rQqY-EPDdwF7x1nKrOoM6iGE37d9ydvyv-f6fPgUnJeHaWE4NLZr_eb2zzwBidxvDDFYtwaj_iya2deepQ4MdBAPRXbt8THwgKLwPB_mw-w1Ovo_hbJe3bsKeCw1ttS2O2J0/s2048/20210823_155714.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi795RRGz4rQqY-EPDdwF7x1nKrOoM6iGE37d9ydvyv-f6fPgUnJeHaWE4NLZr_eb2zzwBidxvDDFYtwaj_iya2deepQ4MdBAPRXbt8THwgKLwPB_mw-w1Ovo_hbJe3bsKeCw1ttS2O2J0/w400-h225/20210823_155714.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Banca de venda de carimbos para pão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Além de produtos, também circulavam histórias. Imagino os
mercadores que partilhavam os caravanserai, à noite, sentados em círculo junto
às fogueiras, partilhando informações, historietas e até anedotas. No meio dos
jardins da Praça Lyabi Hauz, uma estátua de um homem sorridente sentado no seu
burrico, chama-nos a atenção: é o sufi Hodja Nasreddin. Viveu no século XIII e
era originário de Konya, na Turquia. As suas histórias e respostas prontas
percorriam a Rota da Seda e ainda hoje são contadas. Quem sabe se se terá
cruzado com Marco Polo?<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5Gh2hYboRt-3pAtuzdYK2cOVUTlmcqiRV0jyBTGqM8rds7dgML_1bktxPZCHuefEMhV2cLfbmNNSpdkqCScC-2pU9jZ-Ol_-Op7BvoHvkMqmoYBEfSeW8D_8ydAGrJ0AXBtQzjj7EIs/s2048/20210823_185008.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1405" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU5Gh2hYboRt-3pAtuzdYK2cOVUTlmcqiRV0jyBTGqM8rds7dgML_1bktxPZCHuefEMhV2cLfbmNNSpdkqCScC-2pU9jZ-Ol_-Op7BvoHvkMqmoYBEfSeW8D_8ydAGrJ0AXBtQzjj7EIs/w275-h400/20210823_185008.jpg" width="275" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O sufi Hodja Nasreddin, montado no seu burrinho</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">De toda a riqueza que aqui passava, uma parte fluía em
impostos para as mãos do Emir de Bukhara, responsável pela segurança dos
mercadores e dos caminhos. Com esse objetivo, eram construídos os <i>caravanserai</i>,
que funcionavam simultaneamente como abrigos e locais de descanso e
reabastecimento das caravanas. Eram uma espécie de estalagens, ou áreas de
serviço dos tempos antigos, que serviam tanto as necessidades dos homens como
dos camelos que compunham as caravanas. Na estrada entre Bukhara e Samarkand
encontrámos um desses complexos, com o seu espaço de alojamento e uma enorme
cisterna coberta para reabastecimento de água. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeltvck_KXSGQ4IjKABqSYxSTETANlyDgHwnuTAIhuDA0_4Pe07cLjvplmM3e-k9CVC7UoI-dF4Vso8tupY88dRdXUIvksSWBIxplDViGLrUAL_mmh0osTS-ksBtOh4eiA9SdJ9aynBg/s2552/20210824_094636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1233" data-original-width="2552" height="194" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKeltvck_KXSGQ4IjKABqSYxSTETANlyDgHwnuTAIhuDA0_4Pe07cLjvplmM3e-k9CVC7UoI-dF4Vso8tupY88dRdXUIvksSWBIxplDViGLrUAL_mmh0osTS-ksBtOh4eiA9SdJ9aynBg/w400-h194/20210824_094636.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O que resta de um antigo <i>caravanserai</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1095" data-original-width="2048" height="214" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOz96p1OBTHig2dpMBITJEb2wE2EyWwImQLviORT0MM-rLim1WdiHjhn4a6FBhKE03aOd4nYud1mqf7N29vrR8OmBcLiP4Nl1mhqGgdqG7r50G8v881lkiQsSXqUrj8IAPihfT7au3tw/w400-h214/20210824_094953.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A velha cisterna do século XI</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmOz96p1OBTHig2dpMBITJEb2wE2EyWwImQLviORT0MM-rLim1WdiHjhn4a6FBhKE03aOd4nYud1mqf7N29vrR8OmBcLiP4Nl1mhqGgdqG7r50G8v881lkiQsSXqUrj8IAPihfT7au3tw/s2048/20210824_094953.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"></span></a></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A residência oficial do emir ficava no Ark, a antiga
cidadela, que depois os bolcheviques batizaram como Kremlin. Resistiu cerca de
1500 anos, até ser bombardeada e quase totalmente destruída pelo Exército
Vermelho em 1920. Hoje, apenas uma parte está recuperada mas, mesmo assim, as
altas muralhas ainda são imponentes. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vAbz9LmpbMuisN8oyxoPRWFADwJmYUb-g_GKIqDprww9PvnlbZtxr7irKyXDsA3X6L8L7XbuIdndFsG7nrubuLYsoF0Uq6vrTMrCp6Cc2jF6JNq-JhVyi2XjzYz-veopp02E21q4PE4/s2048/20210823_110419.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1357" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6vAbz9LmpbMuisN8oyxoPRWFADwJmYUb-g_GKIqDprww9PvnlbZtxr7irKyXDsA3X6L8L7XbuIdndFsG7nrubuLYsoF0Uq6vrTMrCp6Cc2jF6JNq-JhVyi2XjzYz-veopp02E21q4PE4/w265-h400/20210823_110419.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A entrada do Ark</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9Pw3Le6-PWn73UGB8eacOWe6xdaNvD_sagDKm5bfRwjSAG0rmTKKkENOIYItCcjQE_W9fc3FYlyJBRNS6F7jLQY83oFlmKOhGf_FLRVQf8sT2kPHs8f2K67mBDhPpPYSTKs3epLUncw/s2048/20210823_124653.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgn9Pw3Le6-PWn73UGB8eacOWe6xdaNvD_sagDKm5bfRwjSAG0rmTKKkENOIYItCcjQE_W9fc3FYlyJBRNS6F7jLQY83oFlmKOhGf_FLRVQf8sT2kPHs8f2K67mBDhPpPYSTKs3epLUncw/w400-h225/20210823_124653.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As muralhas ainda são imponentes</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Lá dentro, situava-se a residência oficial
do emir, a sala do trono, os espaços onde recebia os seus súbditos, onde se
reunia o Conselho. A maioria das salas são atualmente espaços museológicos
dedicados aos mais variados temas, vestuário e adereços antigos, arquelogia e
numismática, mas também o desastre ecológico do Mar de Aral.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></div><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqeWCfU046x9nGJEtTeBZbLxF1GrfQCCa4ssSljA67v4_w65T9YkQ6Y99IMTus0yc-R_n3DY7yvAOf5hrUoEoPMEZxM9Vn3rPPEr88MeiL-gOGIz9IMuF8ajIVHUP9k8N-G3Q10FRS6M/s2048/20210823_122012.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1302" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeqeWCfU046x9nGJEtTeBZbLxF1GrfQCCa4ssSljA67v4_w65T9YkQ6Y99IMTus0yc-R_n3DY7yvAOf5hrUoEoPMEZxM9Vn3rPPEr88MeiL-gOGIz9IMuF8ajIVHUP9k8N-G3Q10FRS6M/w254-h400/20210823_122012.jpg" width="254" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-size: x-small;">O trono do espaço exterior de receção ao público</span></td></tr></tbody></table><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIzpsiGd8t-PvkWSLrJoVLrdgUVcPOlXJq8hzXlCTGToB5xCSBRAWoAlsmLovJHAGit3Sd0DdmjZ6gDkhGFVKhe91-4fA5e61cV269r6-tHbGKyX5xsYV1LT7KsdmZROK41kOmoXVEAY/s2048/20210823_123121.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1321" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhpIzpsiGd8t-PvkWSLrJoVLrdgUVcPOlXJq8hzXlCTGToB5xCSBRAWoAlsmLovJHAGit3Sd0DdmjZ6gDkhGFVKhe91-4fA5e61cV269r6-tHbGKyX5xsYV1LT7KsdmZROK41kOmoXVEAY/w258-h400/20210823_123121.jpg" width="258" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Junto às muralhas do Ark</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Uma parte, seguramente significativa, dos impostos comerciais
era aplicada em construções sumptuosas. Já fora da cidade, o Palácio de Verão
dá disso testemunho. As salas são magníficas, refletindo influências artísticas
da Rússia e da China. Os grandes jardins também são muito agradáveis e ainda por
lá se encontram pavões a pavonear-se... Hoje, o Palácio pertence ao Estado e
foi preservado como museu.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjuZc9s1-nbCRhcCgyBYQufuHXXP9CClLSx3PkGKQe2ie2JZa_0EIDJwL0oDeWu-_sLaui0jQ1jiglPc_YXbsDgYXxkfXwVXRQc1qi9xSL1fg_JDLJTobYkdxhKMlOiU_vqR-VXRM78o/s2048/20210822_120613.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1495" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgYjuZc9s1-nbCRhcCgyBYQufuHXXP9CClLSx3PkGKQe2ie2JZa_0EIDJwL0oDeWu-_sLaui0jQ1jiglPc_YXbsDgYXxkfXwVXRQc1qi9xSL1fg_JDLJTobYkdxhKMlOiU_vqR-VXRM78o/w293-h400/20210822_120613.jpg" width="293" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada do Palácio de Verão do Emir de Bukhara</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fh72xpGkgn_GsewCm_2LspI4iYcX3rllXQ-XsCMPXuqvoS2fwQcYAXbDkwJAwhdctQiRVnOX-4doH14t8AtnJI70McCPkrYuuzFA24tLmh8nS3Z5A6qmdhKxqjWFw7P0bkSNOhs9gsw/s2048/20210822_121052.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1074" data-original-width="2048" height="210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4Fh72xpGkgn_GsewCm_2LspI4iYcX3rllXQ-XsCMPXuqvoS2fwQcYAXbDkwJAwhdctQiRVnOX-4doH14t8AtnJI70McCPkrYuuzFA24tLmh8nS3Z5A6qmdhKxqjWFw7P0bkSNOhs9gsw/w400-h210/20210822_121052.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O pórtico de um dos pátios</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHboVbijeax1HMm2IJmjWBtcjp-bOdMZPSgEvGKgCLYrAOhkXUF-hx4yHswvfVKqesSIX8ZzjOL3GnWEyIMyC1BcQFTtpm1LRBytt3GCgPnZHVZO_PJ9jcJC23d5uIC41RxKzvGLKjn5s/s2048/20210822_121521.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhHboVbijeax1HMm2IJmjWBtcjp-bOdMZPSgEvGKgCLYrAOhkXUF-hx4yHswvfVKqesSIX8ZzjOL3GnWEyIMyC1BcQFTtpm1LRBytt3GCgPnZHVZO_PJ9jcJC23d5uIC41RxKzvGLKjn5s/w400-h225/20210822_121521.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das salas do palácio</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Pior sorte teve o último emir que aqui viveu, Alim Khan.
Fazia parte da guarda pessoal do Czar Nicolau II e, quando da ocupação
bolchevique, em 1920, foi preso e executado. O mesmo aconteceu a quase toda a
família e, dos que sobraram, perdeu-se o rasto. Mas continuam a viver nos
palácios, madrassas e mesquitas que construíram, tal como os mercadores,
escravos e viajantes que lhes deram vida.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLUZlqdocJDJCoz3sGKrgSNhCO3Xx7DW0uTGcv8t4S5ernKlOIJQA9ou60dI6MlP_5MKPEP7WLYYJboJjs3MoNH1ll-53-I3P51QKNwO6dB1kCmFR9kcvmoBqaSGDc2RHEc2Zl1pbZ5yU/s2048/20210823_115752.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLUZlqdocJDJCoz3sGKrgSNhCO3Xx7DW0uTGcv8t4S5ernKlOIJQA9ou60dI6MlP_5MKPEP7WLYYJboJjs3MoNH1ll-53-I3P51QKNwO6dB1kCmFR9kcvmoBqaSGDc2RHEc2Zl1pbZ5yU/w225-h400/20210823_115752.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Adereços femininos - Museu do Ark</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1ew25MXS5ZmIMShTW8v7iPK4cOZ81wPnUwg6pneUoji8XzfTpabBZ34rzV125uQGTFR7vtFs6Vy3tvZCkbtlzHCXgMtkoo0LpBFpu0vhweQZ7ACjLbECrtOUelxCIr872Lc0WxHzHD8/s2048/20210822_122955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgm1ew25MXS5ZmIMShTW8v7iPK4cOZ81wPnUwg6pneUoji8XzfTpabBZ34rzV125uQGTFR7vtFs6Vy3tvZCkbtlzHCXgMtkoo0LpBFpu0vhweQZ7ACjLbECrtOUelxCIr872Lc0WxHzHD8/w400-h225/20210822_122955.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Botas de mulher - Museu do Palácio de Verão</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-55992415066404253032021-09-18T18:39:00.001+01:002022-11-27T19:22:07.168+00:00Bukhara monumental<p> </p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6jx18QeKSBb3-ALTiictF0ccUNPeH0wk4psL-YaWBl9gQjk6i4h3MznFZjNbIu2UIyFsZoLpdW3yIW3NTojSoj29vRI6uIIiuCyVHwpPNy5fORK6DR4jSvzPEjauJCt6zLqriEyDp00s/s2048/20210823_112402.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg6jx18QeKSBb3-ALTiictF0ccUNPeH0wk4psL-YaWBl9gQjk6i4h3MznFZjNbIu2UIyFsZoLpdW3yIW3NTojSoj29vRI6uIIiuCyVHwpPNy5fORK6DR4jSvzPEjauJCt6zLqriEyDp00s/w400-h225/20210823_112402.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A mesquita Bolo Hauz com a sua grande piscina de ablução</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Chegámos a Bukhara ao fim da tarde, o que foi uma vantagem
inesperada. Depois da instalação no hotel e do jantar, saímos para um passeio
noturno pela cidade, numa espécie de exploração inicial do espaço. E isso
permitiu-nos ter uma primeira impressão quase feérica daquele que foi um dos
principais centros da Rota da Seda.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpZ0fdIURXQWL9EwBcDniqXZu1mqTv-7h-CICmN4SJWqXI8m4PapyRykQFJfmkYfcnB3t3RNtLy0o4xtCJv7AEtYJdlb2FcR5XAbsiFdij76gu9Fr0OtA9FaNnksbJexw7UInnlD0Z7M/s2048/20210822_215534.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghpZ0fdIURXQWL9EwBcDniqXZu1mqTv-7h-CICmN4SJWqXI8m4PapyRykQFJfmkYfcnB3t3RNtLy0o4xtCJv7AEtYJdlb2FcR5XAbsiFdij76gu9Fr0OtA9FaNnksbJexw7UInnlD0Z7M/w225-h400/20210822_215534.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O minarete Kalom à noite</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQSSXz0uebeqv9PR35eQOjSvTmxQVXFH6HnOn8i4KTGNUDeJ4VVl7WDYyATdVYlQPMPx_mJjRlENuuzYd9uF4McC5j5OQsxeIohQXR9jjIPH1-bSTkKPdKeg4b9fdHkPCRhICYef1BO4/s2048/20210822_220007.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1393" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIQSSXz0uebeqv9PR35eQOjSvTmxQVXFH6HnOn8i4KTGNUDeJ4VVl7WDYyATdVYlQPMPx_mJjRlENuuzYd9uF4McC5j5OQsxeIohQXR9jjIPH1-bSTkKPdKeg4b9fdHkPCRhICYef1BO4/w273-h400/20210822_220007.jpg" width="273" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A mesquita Kalom à noite</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Para o viajante, Bukhara tem uma grande vantagem em relação a
Samarkanda: o centro histórico, a cidade antiga, é relativamente homogéneo e
consegue calcorrear-se a pé, absorvendo as formas, as cores, os cheiros, enfim,
o espaço. Antigamente, estava dividida em duas zonas, a judaica e a muçulmana.
Os principais monumentos situam-se na zona muçulmana, mas os judeus tinham uma
importância muito grande no comércio e na economia da cidade. Hoje, o bairro judeu está quase despovoado de judeus,
que emigraram para Israel. Mas é consolador estar numa cidade de onde os judeus
saíram por escolha e não em fuga de perseguições e tentativas de extermínio.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVuiytxLRK5nJ3aXR7Z5PXs7jK9gyQc6TM4lDo_PGglsOKCIW6WsUxR2bDaRqpByWw5uvBC_P5ogyYmza8qAnwZdzScrQml_8XkexW088QyTOdE5A1KXr5cAxf9X8pwiM_znMTHl1k_rA/s2048/20210822_215248.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVuiytxLRK5nJ3aXR7Z5PXs7jK9gyQc6TM4lDo_PGglsOKCIW6WsUxR2bDaRqpByWw5uvBC_P5ogyYmza8qAnwZdzScrQml_8XkexW088QyTOdE5A1KXr5cAxf9X8pwiM_znMTHl1k_rA/w225-h400/20210822_215248.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">À noite, as velhas zonas comerciais estão encerradas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Mesmo assim, alguns persistem no seu bairro. Fomos almoçar a
uma casa particular, que recebe pequenos grupos de comensais. Aí pudemos
apreciar, não só o “arroz pilaf” característico da região, como o requinte
decorativo da própria casa, que nada no exterior traduz.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVFPLk_-fhI9XsYE5kHTa6gCHGjP2XGWi8GJMwrT9Lqc7QWbA1pif8X98RxE0HH6WAX3f95qTTenuxd31IoBbeM-fB7iWxRlq0yL-vUVGSrn-kkG-K-X-FfGThfONn3IzGdCxzngvJfc/s2048/20210823_130132.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1272" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCVFPLk_-fhI9XsYE5kHTa6gCHGjP2XGWi8GJMwrT9Lqc7QWbA1pif8X98RxE0HH6WAX3f95qTTenuxd31IoBbeM-fB7iWxRlq0yL-vUVGSrn-kkG-K-X-FfGThfONn3IzGdCxzngvJfc/w249-h400/20210823_130132.jpg" width="249" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrar numa casa particular...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGxiAMunxW1bt984ECMpPUsoRNB7xTolUwLH99Zuupx5ubgFil76wUzil3kCge8CQmJgmpw1vONB7PsnYV0LucEZc25pbg9MM0cE9SBO36IXy2TmtZot7nac8LJN5d668mAYeVEoWLjWk/s2048/20210823_131157.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGxiAMunxW1bt984ECMpPUsoRNB7xTolUwLH99Zuupx5ubgFil76wUzil3kCge8CQmJgmpw1vONB7PsnYV0LucEZc25pbg9MM0cE9SBO36IXy2TmtZot7nac8LJN5d668mAYeVEoWLjWk/w400-h225/20210823_131157.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444;">... com interiores belos e delicados.</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Bukhara é uma cidade belíssima, cheia de motivos de
interesse, tantos que tenho até dificuldade em fazer uma seleção. Um dos
monumentos mais fascinantes da cidade – e o mais antigo – é o mausoléu do
fundador da dinastia samânida, Ismail Samani, datado do século X. Alberga
também os sarcófagos de outros membros da sua família. É totalmente construído
com pequenos tijolos, organizados em padrões delicados e intricados, por baixo
de uma abóboda circular.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwlkaI8zHcmEGAmx8vJEfw36jjpgUUEmQil4M_WFhpeHRmgy0yiXtrvPV2gsdZ1lltXm8gROfDoXgXJxhZnh-aHyX9HZbKcmxZqowRxYwMp0Xyl9PLaDqUoaQKCaTqevTHiPEmyXrtRo/s2048/20210823_093057.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHwlkaI8zHcmEGAmx8vJEfw36jjpgUUEmQil4M_WFhpeHRmgy0yiXtrvPV2gsdZ1lltXm8gROfDoXgXJxhZnh-aHyX9HZbKcmxZqowRxYwMp0Xyl9PLaDqUoaQKCaTqevTHiPEmyXrtRo/w225-h400/20210823_093057.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O mausoléu de Ismail Samani</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 107%;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Reza a história que, quando da invasão de Gengis-Khan, os
habitantes de Bukhara enterraram o mausoléu em areia e lama, para o protegerem.
Efetivamente, foi poupado à destruição e só foi descoberto e recuperado na
década de 30 do século XX!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmekLANp3MkaFzzGa8bfvx2gt6GcfgiRXd_XhmLCst9dVBVUy69398xAGzZXPU49EKB7Wn_RSNpKPAG4RthYrMjqvpmVXE-IquNqt-FOhe2zAoZClZ-3hHHCdsyJEnRHOPBiq9_fCXeVw/s2048/20210823_094255.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgmekLANp3MkaFzzGa8bfvx2gt6GcfgiRXd_XhmLCst9dVBVUy69398xAGzZXPU49EKB7Wn_RSNpKPAG4RthYrMjqvpmVXE-IquNqt-FOhe2zAoZClZ-3hHHCdsyJEnRHOPBiq9_fCXeVw/w225-h400/20210823_094255.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O trabalho em tijolo é bem patente no interior do mausoléu</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"></span></span></div><p></p>
<p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Pior sorte tiveram todos os outros monumentos de Bukhara.
Gengis-khan mandou arrasar a cidade. Só poupou da destruição o minarete Kalom,
do século XII, tão belo que sensibilizou o próprio Khan. Pioneiro no uso da
cerâmica azul, o minarete ali se mantém, tão belo de dia como de noite...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkvzjTajgqn54HxfRSDe8Rm3USe-NEyMiW5P9x9Quu0Kph8aSvBRYYxawMCjZUFKF6l_DQicRqe82QepTEiWywzK305h5aNaqY8zJG9gx1h_NYTJkQwwZSsGY3V2S7SY084Eb6qK4hsY/s2048/20210823_172651.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjJkvzjTajgqn54HxfRSDe8Rm3USe-NEyMiW5P9x9Quu0Kph8aSvBRYYxawMCjZUFKF6l_DQicRqe82QepTEiWywzK305h5aNaqY8zJG9gx1h_NYTJkQwwZSsGY3V2S7SY084Eb6qK4hsY/w400-h225/20210823_172651.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">No interior da mesquita Kalom</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hsfKC3wkfoOPe19eeoOEWT4pgfEUniTEkLUMcWBq3C3iSwUfYQVAPTpR_dZAC1cm3Nmi4VbP1NGNy3Rp828yDL7kDAoOBBJAIBu7CZrkDMK6xNFvolRE_6anjRHgS83L-54osJnl4Rg/s2048/20210823_172218.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1284" data-original-width="2048" height="251" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj8hsfKC3wkfoOPe19eeoOEWT4pgfEUniTEkLUMcWBq3C3iSwUfYQVAPTpR_dZAC1cm3Nmi4VbP1NGNy3Rp828yDL7kDAoOBBJAIBu7CZrkDMK6xNFvolRE_6anjRHgS83L-54osJnl4Rg/w400-h251/20210823_172218.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O tanque de abluções da mesquita Kalom</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O centro histórico de Bukhara inclui várias mesquitas e
madrassas, todas interessantes e todas diferentes dentro da sua traça
arquitetónica muito peculiar. Muitas estão desativadas das suas funções
religiosas e funcionam como espaço de espetáculos, ou hotéis, ou simplesmente
como bazares, onde tudo se pode comprar e vender. Afinal, estamos no coração da
Rota da Seda e o negócio comanda a vida!<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIM6mAjUudQXe8QwAqGgHZSyHDiCbkVst1Nnr1bkyTuwr5g24H_wA-yJzllTpOqQwYT6Xtlq0emkXHBfa2ZT0U4NMOBBR4AdIwJvgRFk8gA80FG7HbXV9vI7EfVHeFCL2LAv0eKEoBS0/s2048/20210823_150539.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1442" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiGIM6mAjUudQXe8QwAqGgHZSyHDiCbkVst1Nnr1bkyTuwr5g24H_wA-yJzllTpOqQwYT6Xtlq0emkXHBfa2ZT0U4NMOBBR4AdIwJvgRFk8gA80FG7HbXV9vI7EfVHeFCL2LAv0eKEoBS0/w281-h400/20210823_150539.jpg" width="281" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A mesquita Chor Minor</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Recordo a pequena e original Chor Minor, com os seus quatro
minaretes rematados com cúpulas azul-turquesa. A madrassa Ulughbek é uma das
mais antigas e interessantes: foi um centro de estudos de teologia, mas
também de matemática, astronomia, geografia. Ulughbek, neto de Tamerlão, é uma
personagem fascinante, sobre quem escreverei <a href="https://olharesviajantes.blogspot.com/2021/10/a-mitica-samarcanda.html" target="_blank">no texto sobre Samarkanda</a>, a
propósito do Observatório que aí construiu.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukKfctNqXy6FObGLz3NmuqAU3Kq3c-N_qLQHtdlcP_Hk4dFY1BO5Tq4eJ0VotPdAdH_CK5W79FrgruD8tZp2XKd4nNIGp_xV-MZBKv9bpXtYkltcYbYfnzjamnsz_hspyW-t9LprGrb0/s2048/20210823_153433.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiukKfctNqXy6FObGLz3NmuqAU3Kq3c-N_qLQHtdlcP_Hk4dFY1BO5Tq4eJ0VotPdAdH_CK5W79FrgruD8tZp2XKd4nNIGp_xV-MZBKv9bpXtYkltcYbYfnzjamnsz_hspyW-t9LprGrb0/w400-h225/20210823_153433.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Parede lateral da madrassa Ulughbek</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 107%;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A madrassa Abdulaziz khan é uma das mais ricamente decoradas,
mas eu confesso que a recordo melhor por ter sido o local onde comprei duas
belíssimas almofadas, bordadas a fio de seda, com os motivos tradicionais
uzbeques.</span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_VUKKx5GrLd_awK9bkEbs0uJ3F1J41Kg9vmP5ECAcUSb7D42LuETSTqFgODKEns3cwcet_hyrM0eqO1BnKJcQ7Zo_nQTZVvuoLEzqkXuPhjBUywSBVUwxw8mVPracnM3mjNaBhl9RLM/s2048/20210823_164245.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEim_VUKKx5GrLd_awK9bkEbs0uJ3F1J41Kg9vmP5ECAcUSb7D42LuETSTqFgODKEns3cwcet_hyrM0eqO1BnKJcQ7Zo_nQTZVvuoLEzqkXuPhjBUywSBVUwxw8mVPracnM3mjNaBhl9RLM/w400-h225/20210823_164245.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O belo pórtico de entrada na madrassa Abdulaziz khan</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Em volta da grande praça Lyabi Hauz, erguem-se três madrassas
majestosas, construídas entre os séculos XV e XVI. Uma delas, a madrassa Nadir
Divan Begi, foi construída com a intenção de funcionar como um “caravanserai”,
mas foi convertida em espaço cultural. No seu aprazível pátio central, assistimos
a um espetáculo de música e dança tradicional. Gostei muito, foi muito bonito,
não só devido à graciosidade e aos ricos trajes das bailarinas, mas também
devido às sonoridades dos instrumentos tradicionais, tão evocativas da Rota da
Seda.<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX2tYPD3PSUBKMMLahl_E-Wv7f_GC9A6gxgnFJU_y8rl5x-3tSDDtNjajuZiyPJkZyqQ9lHnE78Edzk3pKDjUaCIqGktwwyE342wFqRnRyrNAuR1J9dgQqFSDT2c5v0bfTn3v1qTiW5hg/s2048/20210823_153513.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjX2tYPD3PSUBKMMLahl_E-Wv7f_GC9A6gxgnFJU_y8rl5x-3tSDDtNjajuZiyPJkZyqQ9lHnE78Edzk3pKDjUaCIqGktwwyE342wFqRnRyrNAuR1J9dgQqFSDT2c5v0bfTn3v1qTiW5hg/w400-h225/20210823_153513.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O pórtico da madrassa Nadir Divan Begi, com o seu invulgar sol antropomórfico</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxpIYvFGexAlEKyhpy4B_nDUwjHZ4EEmFa2X8gntMiJkJH67J1krM3db2si5wgK3-gSzNYcCBzN9GuTdfqhEdqft17N_JFrH7dr6T-HITsv4iXRfmam2E460FmAi0qdkNMi17Lp2VShuU/s2048/20210823_190353.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhxpIYvFGexAlEKyhpy4B_nDUwjHZ4EEmFa2X8gntMiJkJH67J1krM3db2si5wgK3-gSzNYcCBzN9GuTdfqhEdqft17N_JFrH7dr6T-HITsv4iXRfmam2E460FmAi0qdkNMi17Lp2VShuU/w400-h225/20210823_190353.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Bailarinas com os trajes tradicionais</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">No centro dessa praça, um enorme reservatório de água faz as
vezes de um lago. Integra um vasto sistema de irrigação e de piscinas de
ablução que utilizavam a água, muito abundante, dos lençóis freáticos. A praça
é muito agradável, com jardins a rodearem a grande piscina e esplanadas onde
apetece sentar e deixar o tempo correr, devagarinho...<o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuqDHrlyKUEf9M2Bq5JBlUPJ8Zb8mzspsuZFFsfTsVCqWKxpO2YAAvBcj6POZtXPq1g_7cn5uvgAfHQXWO9IkNhqeFbrvXpKjCmMgJfGjqSGFDhzvbhXs4jLqSkT25pXvIhfUKutI9xw/s2048/20210823_154139.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgQuqDHrlyKUEf9M2Bq5JBlUPJ8Zb8mzspsuZFFsfTsVCqWKxpO2YAAvBcj6POZtXPq1g_7cn5uvgAfHQXWO9IkNhqeFbrvXpKjCmMgJfGjqSGFDhzvbhXs4jLqSkT25pXvIhfUKutI9xw/w400-h225/20210823_154139.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A praça Lyabi Hauz</span></span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Deixei para o final a referência à mesquita Bolo Hauz, talvez
porque foi das que mais me impressionou. A primeira imagem que temos dela é a
de uma profusão de colunas de madeira, ricamente esculpidas, que decora a
entrada. </span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHEq63fxj1lAWfEtP0mMP-j8W__bEVTkF37GWObkh4Dhv57Clrh6wh69zokgonYtRwxgJ_f3SnXE7XFvKs9FeKo70k1S-N89mbK5_dDK8XNq4TbN-c2cFP20SEiKOrOn1zRXvQv_v9FA/s2048/20210823_103842.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEguHEq63fxj1lAWfEtP0mMP-j8W__bEVTkF37GWObkh4Dhv57Clrh6wh69zokgonYtRwxgJ_f3SnXE7XFvKs9FeKo70k1S-N89mbK5_dDK8XNq4TbN-c2cFP20SEiKOrOn1zRXvQv_v9FA/w400-h225/20210823_103842.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A colunata da mesquita Bolo Hauz</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZ4YQr-T9QZY5WLwZDsZI-ptyfwQ_C9DQnVhOJZ6ksprlvSMVsBiSn8eWcY1T2p4_vnaVns_kdYGAsCX2_5CZzrXUd1wa4Gg3dJlDrikk1eZv8do29IoLxmjuSqQe5lMsDerJz_mdbxs/s2048/20210823_104645.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMZ4YQr-T9QZY5WLwZDsZI-ptyfwQ_C9DQnVhOJZ6ksprlvSMVsBiSn8eWcY1T2p4_vnaVns_kdYGAsCX2_5CZzrXUd1wa4Gg3dJlDrikk1eZv8do29IoLxmjuSqQe5lMsDerJz_mdbxs/w225-h400/20210823_104645.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O <i>mihrab </i>da mesquita</span></td></tr></tbody></table></span><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Fui-me apercebendo de que as colunas de madeira esculpida são
elementos arquitetónicos comuns e característicos desta região, mas a colunata
desta mesquita foi a primeira que encontrei. A beleza das suas vinte colunas,
refletidas na piscina de ablução, é impressionante e não encontra paralelo...
pelo menos até chegarmos à mesquita Juma, em Khiva. Mas sobre esta mesquita
escreverei <a href="https://olharesviajantes.blogspot.com/2021/11/khiva-cidade-no-deserto.html" target="_blank">depois</a>...</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></p><p class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="line-height: 107%;"></span></p><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVPqyvTsyCprUxF_nJJrT5uYTKno5QJspgK2xCev_rAuV9sz4qJFvPNIgYntcqVkkFMx-MEwuup35wei0KscHlGENl0Qq1jV9GZidEAoZk954mzQrFBGhbYk6PiI9wEslYzWHd6QQ-sw/s2048/20210823_104508.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyVPqyvTsyCprUxF_nJJrT5uYTKno5QJspgK2xCev_rAuV9sz4qJFvPNIgYntcqVkkFMx-MEwuup35wei0KscHlGENl0Qq1jV9GZidEAoZk954mzQrFBGhbYk6PiI9wEslYzWHd6QQ-sw/w225-h400/20210823_104508.jpg" width="225" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O pequeno minarete frente à mesquita Bolo Hauz</span></td></tr></tbody></table><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small; line-height: 107%;"></span></div><span style="line-height: 107%;"><br /><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></span><p></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-868987231578698995.post-45793237930365094942021-09-08T13:09:00.000+01:002021-09-08T13:09:24.456+01:00Tashkent, a cidade modelo<p style="text-align: justify;"> <table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8fAGvJKkkhyphenhyphensSMz21CmuEKAxgkQRghgERybV9VHDW2XtPBNBjbEnZC8O00W8_EyJB7xE9pnM4wTuMnAI8ms9XqkU45pfLhzql8SCZ7LBYAxzlIOmGkQLhlfQAXRsxI4Ean-kcg24NMY/s2048/20210827_161906.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1144" data-original-width="2048" height="224" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZ8fAGvJKkkhyphenhyphensSMz21CmuEKAxgkQRghgERybV9VHDW2XtPBNBjbEnZC8O00W8_EyJB7xE9pnM4wTuMnAI8ms9XqkU45pfLhzql8SCZ7LBYAxzlIOmGkQLhlfQAXRsxI4Ean-kcg24NMY/w400-h224/20210827_161906.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os belos jardins de Tashkent</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tashkent é a capital do Uzbequistão e, com os seus 40 quilómetros
de extensão e quase 3 milhões de habitantes, é a maior cidade da Ásia Central. Hoje
já pouco resta da antiga <i>Chach</i>, ponto de intercâmbio entre os
comerciantes sogdianos e os nómadas turcos e, portanto, um local relevante da
Rota da Seda. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Em 1966, Tashkent sofreu um sismo devastador e foi reconstruída
como uma cidade modelo do planeamento urbano soviético, com a ajuda das outras
repúblicas da URSS.</span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpWOXTt-hF3oMC6YjHLeAknnPSDPuGcurcJKi-iBLYwZ29UhaJV0TFZEgBsmzoBEGd4l1D-S7RWmb7rylyrwrM3V0kntoAbKN-QX3QWBALI2cjWL0j0MQdoo-TKiidddAAXAyoDT5ru0/s2048/20210821_124526.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1069" data-original-width="2048" height="209" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjNpWOXTt-hF3oMC6YjHLeAknnPSDPuGcurcJKi-iBLYwZ29UhaJV0TFZEgBsmzoBEGd4l1D-S7RWmb7rylyrwrM3V0kntoAbKN-QX3QWBALI2cjWL0j0MQdoo-TKiidddAAXAyoDT5ru0/w400-h209/20210821_124526.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Monumento à reconstrução de Tashkent...<br /></span><br /><br /></td></tr></tbody></table><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIgHdnm02cYm9iafCBIAdRh9dQAJViJC9XTmAR5Du24PEHV9csi6SMs_cX_Z2XzGod0c_inGN6-hxaz0wthvtbtI02E_fBzzIuH_5LWSOlsP72-OkxrQbW_VkIy_2bZPxyHzHF8iH2ks/s2048/20210821_124455.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1495" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimIgHdnm02cYm9iafCBIAdRh9dQAJViJC9XTmAR5Du24PEHV9csi6SMs_cX_Z2XzGod0c_inGN6-hxaz0wthvtbtI02E_fBzzIuH_5LWSOlsP72-OkxrQbW_VkIy_2bZPxyHzHF8iH2ks/w293-h400/20210821_124455.jpg" width="293" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">... e aos homens e mulheres que fizeram essa reconstrução</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">É uma cidade ampla, rasgada por grandes avenidas com três e
quatro faixas de rodagem em cada sentido, rodeadas de árvores e jardins que lhe
dão um aspeto aprazível e um ar europeu. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Chamou-nos a atenção o parque automóvel. Naquelas amplas avenidas
circulavam quase exclusivamente automóveis da marca Chevrolet, de cor branca.
Depois percebemos: há uma fábrica dessa marca no país e esses carros pagam
menos impostos...</span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfw-Ta-CnEneR1ALIwRc46F0PyAv9slpc8XuiGY5iobYJ8hEN2UzlteMuALhVIfBd4BkzAUq1kNinb_o7Nou7BLYUIR2oGWRatN1BSNFZ92Ry0NQXsztNY3jLif_idUH_tubUVDpItF8/s2048/20210827_165818.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfw-Ta-CnEneR1ALIwRc46F0PyAv9slpc8XuiGY5iobYJ8hEN2UzlteMuALhVIfBd4BkzAUq1kNinb_o7Nou7BLYUIR2oGWRatN1BSNFZ92Ry0NQXsztNY3jLif_idUH_tubUVDpItF8/w400-h225/20210827_165818.jpg" width="400" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Museu de História dos Povos do Uzbequistão, com os inevitáveis Chevrolet</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Os blocos de apartamentos alternam com equipamentos de lazer
vistosos, quase grandiosos: museus, como o grande Museu de História do
Uzbequistão; teatros, dramáticos, juvenis, de marionetas; ópera, salas de
concertos e bailado; equipamentos desportivos, mas também o imponente edifício
do Comité Olímpico do Uzbequistão... <o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqmb5_xCIx6aH_7Ko3yeaMQIr2tGBgjJJp-RA1bMcedtrKo5RyegnRyV-8zzHfcICei4nbFnFzsVL_lslO3Y0tGe7REI5d_C2kgAXrt-ULWB5icSHo44te7HFValmcjEpH6shXuuq-RA/s2048/20210827_170708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1182" data-original-width="2048" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizqmb5_xCIx6aH_7Ko3yeaMQIr2tGBgjJJp-RA1bMcedtrKo5RyegnRyV-8zzHfcICei4nbFnFzsVL_lslO3Y0tGe7REI5d_C2kgAXrt-ULWB5icSHo44te7HFValmcjEpH6shXuuq-RA/w400-h231/20210827_170708.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Frente ao teatro <i>Aladdin</i></span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Alguns pequenos museus também merecem uma visita: é o caso do
Museu de Artes Aplicadas, que faz uma boa introdução ao trabalho da madeira e
dos têxteis na região, tão delicado e tão rico! Instalado numa casa particular
de um antigo diplomata, o espaço é, em si mesmo, uma jóia!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88MmiWwBuc78O0lyVJ_iTYgy9EP1hoVo6Aat_ob64zOqsURcgs7o1KS9HpeaRbZrm5dWWbcXntpmMxhr5VOodxELNxmakqXOyz9SGjaUaNtAKEeaAHXvzj9U-GvWWAxI005Xh1sOLmec/s2048/20210827_150636.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1176" data-original-width="2048" height="230" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh88MmiWwBuc78O0lyVJ_iTYgy9EP1hoVo6Aat_ob64zOqsURcgs7o1KS9HpeaRbZrm5dWWbcXntpmMxhr5VOodxELNxmakqXOyz9SGjaUaNtAKEeaAHXvzj9U-GvWWAxI005Xh1sOLmec/w400-h230/20210827_150636.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Uma das salas do Museu de Artes Aplicadas</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqDA3n3X8mmK0l7CNYoz4ko4IWxAbBhpFniJeqscCgbHlclp2ACYlw9dV4V23Bl9gvUJt734wA3OJcNmiuOMPCO4STzDuZLmO_eWl61w6Lm5DCmHyUIPCm9zT7GgfHhuHZlwoGeMhqHE/s2048/20210827_153011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpqDA3n3X8mmK0l7CNYoz4ko4IWxAbBhpFniJeqscCgbHlclp2ACYlw9dV4V23Bl9gvUJt734wA3OJcNmiuOMPCO4STzDuZLmO_eWl61w6Lm5DCmHyUIPCm9zT7GgfHhuHZlwoGeMhqHE/w225-h400/20210827_153011.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Pormenor da entrada do museu</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Foi também após o terramoto de 1966 que foi construído o
metropolitano de Tashkent que, à imagem do de Moscovo, tenta levar a arte e a
pedagogia socialista às massas trabalhadoras. É particularmente bonita a
estação “Cosmonautas”, onde se celebra a conquista do espaço e o pioneirismo
soviético. Ali encontramos Gagarin e Valentina Tereshkova, a par de outros
estudiosos do espaço, como Copérnico. </span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Noutra estação, são os heróis da história uzbeque, como o criador
da língua uzbeque escrita, que nos rodeiam, em belas molduras de cerâmica azul.</span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTDpV1abRYGbltpbTDG1Q1irao4NFtqBugEwZH8K8mW_03mIEqgphgIhEVOex5TM5OwSI10POTVgN12Xj9kzXI_pAGA77MVIQqiqw8SyZnbWqWXFsGFfTSxaYa8Xm8o3C507O6VWg6XDw/s2048/20210821_172232.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTDpV1abRYGbltpbTDG1Q1irao4NFtqBugEwZH8K8mW_03mIEqgphgIhEVOex5TM5OwSI10POTVgN12Xj9kzXI_pAGA77MVIQqiqw8SyZnbWqWXFsGFfTSxaYa8Xm8o3C507O6VWg6XDw/w400-h225/20210821_172232.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Gagarin saúda-nos, na estação de metro</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbrXjYqagxXv1mjY9ATsqLfsSIuquxcQ5l2-nEzo03N8oqtb3q2JlwFiGsI-fL1gqMb-tO88cLS8DsboCNGU9-OcHV1_ug1EhWhOLyM-uxoZXfVralH_Widbgn6FUedpM-bp9aWvd8Ac/s2048/20210821_173727.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1152" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjbrXjYqagxXv1mjY9ATsqLfsSIuquxcQ5l2-nEzo03N8oqtb3q2JlwFiGsI-fL1gqMb-tO88cLS8DsboCNGU9-OcHV1_ug1EhWhOLyM-uxoZXfVralH_Widbgn6FUedpM-bp9aWvd8Ac/w225-h400/20210821_173727.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">As belas cúpulas do metropolitano</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh3LcO2kEAFCaKWMqWFnYflRPmfBV728BmYvHPmwkJ24X90xilWnPKo9g8fkElLU28mboJxk347JhMnA-K5Uj4TtvlsqcRA8-LLL5PDK_tADxBsv1YvKA9YH3UZ8fhiXmYXYCiQFJ6jbA/s2048/20210821_173824.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1323" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhh3LcO2kEAFCaKWMqWFnYflRPmfBV728BmYvHPmwkJ24X90xilWnPKo9g8fkElLU28mboJxk347JhMnA-K5Uj4TtvlsqcRA8-LLL5PDK_tADxBsv1YvKA9YH3UZ8fhiXmYXYCiQFJ6jbA/w259-h400/20210821_173824.jpg" width="259" /></span></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Um dos quadros de cerâmica que recorda a história uzbeque</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Tal como em todas as capitais do mundo soviético, há grandes
hotéis, de traça idêntica; aqui em Tashkent, destaca-se o grande Hotel
Uzbekistan, agora em processo de remodelação. Mas há também muitos hotéis
modernos, com todas as comodidades a que estamos habituados. Afinal, o país
está a apostar no turismo!<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1226" data-original-width="2566" height="191" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjGfcYOlpSAi-U8eZVD2Y-0Y_TQIoSiMvPMa5l4rFNt13gl-tunfMtFE6vxbIbPEe9OfIpDMmYp2YzqAjVTBF8jiNA4VCB3iys7LUu90T5efWOu0LVQstb2UH92lowZ8KodxzyZtVAa27U/w400-h191/20210827_165210.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">O Palacete dos Romanov</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">O centro da cidade é a Praça da Independência, também chamada de
Amir Timur (em tradução livre, Rei Tamerlão). Não conseguimos lá ir. A
aproximar-se a data da comemoração da independência, todo o recinto estava
vedado e fortemente policiado. Também não se podia fotografar o Palácio do
Governo, nem o do Senado. Não faço ideia de qual seria o programa das festas,
mas parecia precisar do maior secretismo.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_76HT46gmO1AmimBXgI4fc7vABebIICGBmFzj4-UvYyFMGFt__esThFolsfZKXid_XsZQmLHE5qP7P-Gx4VV9gifQug3qscZ9WXc-IEDVg1nE-Pbnm9IUfNyf0Ta8D2N4dF99_GYMqQ/s2048/20210827_163604.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_76HT46gmO1AmimBXgI4fc7vABebIICGBmFzj4-UvYyFMGFt__esThFolsfZKXid_XsZQmLHE5qP7P-Gx4VV9gifQug3qscZ9WXc-IEDVg1nE-Pbnm9IUfNyf0Ta8D2N4dF99_GYMqQ/w400-h225/20210827_163604.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Perto da Praça da Independência...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YvCtgFuRamRE0B1rTbirwcdY7YKF7EKUr-cNaV85i_Q2Wd5NafWzBaEo3ohtVyCnGvp5o3FlQ4KhAS4GVZHAos8-qAKhjzw90RQxmTWr03izK5Q4CYMTbiKAJaMpw0XTbIx-nWgM7o4/s2048/20210827_163839.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1114" data-original-width="2048" height="217" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg_YvCtgFuRamRE0B1rTbirwcdY7YKF7EKUr-cNaV85i_Q2Wd5NafWzBaEo3ohtVyCnGvp5o3FlQ4KhAS4GVZHAos8-qAKhjzw90RQxmTWr03izK5Q4CYMTbiKAJaMpw0XTbIx-nWgM7o4/w400-h217/20210827_163839.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A cegonha é a ave tutelar do Uzbequistão</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Do grande parque que circunda a área governamental, só estava
acessível a zona onde se localiza o memorial aos soldados uzbeques tombados na
2.ª Guerra Mundial: os seus nomes, milhares, são recordados em pequenos nichos,
enquanto a estátua de uma mãe, uma <i>mater dolorosa</i>, vela pelo fogo
sagrado.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwbNSK8sAuw6WDDriqdIVrccUnoJDPZ-UigZEZW50uMNrYHZCMHImj0cmOY6Rna_XsnB5J8swhQXD53ScIBqAgzLqZ1vpRmsNNmvYwOZ7D9a-b7rt8s5b0Lg2szrR2_jSUqZUGUiVpqc/s2048/20210827_162733.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1160" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwwbNSK8sAuw6WDDriqdIVrccUnoJDPZ-UigZEZW50uMNrYHZCMHImj0cmOY6Rna_XsnB5J8swhQXD53ScIBqAgzLqZ1vpRmsNNmvYwOZ7D9a-b7rt8s5b0Lg2szrR2_jSUqZUGUiVpqc/w226-h400/20210827_162733.jpg" width="226" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Memorial aos soldados mortos</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3aow8p0JHtA5Hk78BQ4lG1driy1vax5xlA9aMUrLVeQ4BLhPs4T1RLQAHjOB4bRx6m1acxFG1J2qNQKypmUc1ArQjFWNXjSEaCpObXJCEYDM8CmuVMSe0Zq3YFirPJbL6qzJfRTuaoJo/s2048/20210827_162326.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1106" data-original-width="2048" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3aow8p0JHtA5Hk78BQ4lG1driy1vax5xlA9aMUrLVeQ4BLhPs4T1RLQAHjOB4bRx6m1acxFG1J2qNQKypmUc1ArQjFWNXjSEaCpObXJCEYDM8CmuVMSe0Zq3YFirPJbL6qzJfRTuaoJo/w400-h216/20210827_162326.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A <i>Mater Dolorosa<br /><br /></i></span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">A cidade de Tashkent é, portanto, uma cidade espaçosa e moderna,
com uma marca vincada da arquitetura do período soviético, embora hoje em dia
já se comecem a reconhecer outras marcas e influências: passamos por algumas
lojas de cadeias internacionais e por uma enorme Disneyland, com os seus
bonecos e castelos estereotipados!...</span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPENFUxCHVOYPDH0MkDadrxA4Tk27Xl0w2qgSpqroh0uyicjqkt_FYnvdNtefbOslKVp2YdJFgJl-wkbUPeupdy8MzR1e0xlC_CpxAKxQn3NpS2OBMZvHcsBNaqpcMPvXkJ75wUhMt9q0/s2048/20210827_162814.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgPENFUxCHVOYPDH0MkDadrxA4Tk27Xl0w2qgSpqroh0uyicjqkt_FYnvdNtefbOslKVp2YdJFgJl-wkbUPeupdy8MzR1e0xlC_CpxAKxQn3NpS2OBMZvHcsBNaqpcMPvXkJ75wUhMt9q0/w400-h225/20210827_162814.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Os espaçosos parques de Tashkent</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Um pouco afastado do centro desta cidade nova, restam ainda
vestígios da cidade antiga. Aí, encontra-se o conjunto arquitetónico Hazrati
Imam, que inclui uma madrassa, mesquitas e uma biblioteca. A madrassa (escola
religiosa islâmica) ainda está em funcionamento e integra a Direção dos Muçulmanos
do Uzbequistão. Sendo um país que se rege por uma Constituição laica e que
tenta manter a igualdade de género, aí podem estudar tanto rapazes como
raparigas.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1183" data-original-width="2048" height="231" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6B5ZqW1pkDNuDzp4RsQEXWGeCJ43k49ZXzrKj8OB4qU45U6zQSdrOaw-zoltkQ9-CzEtpCKtVnn-Yct7PKQRHKKRsA8LCp4ls4AZqFjs11GenEBX6finJiUMd2hyuqiVqNAtVHbXiEWk/w400-h231/20210821_154648.jpg" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;" width="400" /></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Entrada da madrassa</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6B5ZqW1pkDNuDzp4RsQEXWGeCJ43k49ZXzrKj8OB4qU45U6zQSdrOaw-zoltkQ9-CzEtpCKtVnn-Yct7PKQRHKKRsA8LCp4ls4AZqFjs11GenEBX6finJiUMd2hyuqiVqNAtVHbXiEWk/s2048/20210821_154648.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-size: x-small;"></span></a></div><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_QKHKIoIC50GLALiWMFRDHef-QHwqhOoytaaSlB9NcrsKqZ5UxukUnpiU4sBMSmkpyGdwtfiQMMzgOZ2tHd5QELX0GuriQMpRWaoZZeln0CLZx-ib4-7R6eUsRWUJTSNgh0P6WccG7oY/s2048/20210821_165519.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1153" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi_QKHKIoIC50GLALiWMFRDHef-QHwqhOoytaaSlB9NcrsKqZ5UxukUnpiU4sBMSmkpyGdwtfiQMMzgOZ2tHd5QELX0GuriQMpRWaoZZeln0CLZx-ib4-7R6eUsRWUJTSNgh0P6WccG7oY/w400-h225/20210821_165519.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A Mesquita de 6.ª feira</span></td></tr></tbody></table><br /><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdM8raLCQUM3ehWt_4KWE4zM_nmbF-02bhqbM-yhAZ0pLw_pEvHwbB3q8Zb4iIObte3hRQednT6FZi8XAwFYhyphenhyphenXbGRU7EdeMUMsGNOxjlB6K-hxLP5D5E-WxZZvOtTObV_ITbYpYTM-8/s2048/20210821_165609.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1286" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjtdM8raLCQUM3ehWt_4KWE4zM_nmbF-02bhqbM-yhAZ0pLw_pEvHwbB3q8Zb4iIObte3hRQednT6FZi8XAwFYhyphenhyphenXbGRU7EdeMUMsGNOxjlB6K-hxLP5D5E-WxZZvOtTObV_ITbYpYTM-8/w251-h400/20210821_165609.jpg" width="251" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A caixa das esmolas...</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span><p></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Na mesma praça, a antiga biblioteca alberga agora um pequeno museu
corânico, cuja vedeta principal é um volumoso Corão do séc. VII, mandado
redigir para o terceiro califa e que constitui um dos livros mais antigos e
preciosos do mundo islâmico.<o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7rzipItIWswwEO34PoboR_gg5S8rtzHq19Rat117vk5sDhhuJ9uzvrm88mA0tH7B8vmvaMFP8Y6P0he24PaVFMY6kNn0_NC1BCoBHYM0NWuDpHOs83y2MeaRiLBRHyli2K4g5fvx2G48/s2048/20210821_154732.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="2048" data-original-width="1532" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7rzipItIWswwEO34PoboR_gg5S8rtzHq19Rat117vk5sDhhuJ9uzvrm88mA0tH7B8vmvaMFP8Y6P0he24PaVFMY6kNn0_NC1BCoBHYM0NWuDpHOs83y2MeaRiLBRHyli2K4g5fvx2G48/w299-h400/20210821_154732.jpg" width="299" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">A belíssima cúpula da biblioteca</span></td></tr></tbody></table></p>
<p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;">Neste recanto de Tashkent, reconheço o que vim procurar ao
Uzbequistão: as paredes de tijolo cor de areia são decoradas com painéis de
cerâmica em tons de azul; os motivos florais entrecruzam-se com as citações
decorativas sagradas; as cúpulas estonteantemente azuis cintilam ao sol. Aqui,
podemos começar a nossa exploração da Rota da Seda.</span><span face="Calibri, sans-serif"><o:p></o:p></span></p><p style="line-height: 115%; text-align: justify;"><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><tbody><tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-yXFMSqGNA6C-lUKsPLWJS2a8HyMaxP33iereq7FRfb-xnPdyxTxwAFCdUNyLCviXW_uXUd5vwUTPqZ1kabNurzYBNiQIBhWvVaxaNsHQ__4VIque6HKjyIC9Cq4dse0fOjmnamAz7qA/s2048/20210821_154708.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1152" data-original-width="2048" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-yXFMSqGNA6C-lUKsPLWJS2a8HyMaxP33iereq7FRfb-xnPdyxTxwAFCdUNyLCviXW_uXUd5vwUTPqZ1kabNurzYBNiQIBhWvVaxaNsHQ__4VIque6HKjyIC9Cq4dse0fOjmnamAz7qA/w400-h225/20210821_154708.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr><tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;">Parte do Complexo Hazrati Imam</span></td></tr></tbody></table><span style="font-family: verdana; font-size: x-small;"><br /></span><span style="color: #444444; font-family: verdana;"><br /></span></p>Teresa Dinizhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14265712964259221511noreply@blogger.com0