Setúbal is an ancient seaside town. Nearby is Troia beach, where the Greeks may have landed so very long ago. It is certain that the Romans were here. Archeological remains show human settlement thousands of years prior to the birth of Christ. Throughout the centuries the sea has been a source of sustenance and a siren calling men to adventure.

Our adventure started when we left the train station. We crossed the park and immediately needed to negotiate the winding streets. We found a lovely church, but it was not the convent we were looking for. There were colorful swags hanging above streets of patterned tile. Charming did not begin to describe Setúbal, which took the sting out of getting lost more than once in the tangle of alleys and intersections.

Walking the streets was like something out of a movie. Pedestrian only alleys led to quaint shops in a central shopping district (yes, I bought a dress). While there were people out and about, I felt like I had the city to myself. The pace was slow and calming. We visited a simple convent founded by a King’s nanny. It was also quiet and peaceful. Simple sanctuary for those wishing to dedicate their life to prayer. We sat in the church and listened to soothing music. Manualine architecture’s clean lines provided a simple yet beautiful backdrop.

At the docks we attempted to walk along the water’s edge. Walls and disappearing sidewalks made that more than challenging. However, intrepid travelers that we are, we snuck through a fish market and a parking lot and reached the docks. The dolphin boats weren’t running in the off season, so we watched the fishing boats instead. There is something so peaceful about palm trees and waves. Boats came and went while we discussed lunch options. The dish of choice was choco frito, fried cuttle fish. I wasn’t sure and my husband does not like seafood, so we reluctantly left the docks and went back into the heart of Setúbal.

Tired of walking, we agree to visit a McDonalds. The day was slipping away and we had more to do before we caught the train. Besides being considerably cheaper, at Portuguese McDonalds, you can get fresh baked pastries and a variety of healthy selections. Our order was delivered to our clean table on a patio with views of the fountains in the park. If only Americans could understand the subtle differences and realize that quality of life sometimes matters more that speed and greed. But that is a topic for another day.

Setúbal is a whimsical town. Leaping plastic dolphins lined the sidewalk by the docks. A giant fox sneaking through the grass decorated the side of a building. A giant cat, prowled the rooftops of a hotel near the town center. Fountains and statues graced every park. Civic pride was evident. It was contagious.

The history of this seaside settlement was preserved in a small free museum. From prehistoric villages to the industrial era, the sea has been a constant source of provision. Farming also dominated life on the peninsula. I learned alot about the uses of sea grass and goats as we perused the small museum. Most exciting was a Roman era, horse drawn winnowing machine. Genius engineering always reminds me that we are no smarter than our ancestors. How much knowledge has been lost over the centuries?

Having had a full day of seaside, shopping, and history we make our way back to the train. I needed to use a ladies room so we decided to make a quick stop in the seamen’s home, a small museum in what was once an on shore refuge for sailors. After paying a few coins, I was twice disappointed. They did not have a restroom and the small room contained fairly modern shops instruments. While I am sure they would have been delightful for nautical enthusiasts, I was at a loss. They did not have anything I wanted to see and no bathroom. A failed stop. We politely looked around and made ready to leave, but the kind lady at the counter told us she would take us upstairs.

I raised my eyebrows at my husband and he shrugged that we should follow. She took us outside and up a winding stairwell that followed the wall of the courtyard and used an ancient key to open a very large wooden door. We stepped into an ancient manor house turned into an elaborate chapel for sailors. The ceiling was painted to draw attention to a single sailing ship. The altar was gilt and glittering. My jaw dropped. I was not expecting this sanctuary.

Unexpected beauty above an unassuming building. A sanctuary from the sea and the harshness of life. We slowed down and appreciated our surroundings. The woman at the door smiled a knowing smile and told us to take our time. I was immediately drawn to a wooden statue of St. Paul. He looked so determined and ordinary. Battered but not broken. A sailor who had much to do before he could rest. I stared at that statue for a long while, pondering the ups and downs of a life of faith. Wondering how we get so focused on tasks and our beliefs that we forget the big picture. Reflecting on how we all need a sanctuary, a place of refuge to remember the power of grace. Realizing that we have to lay down our fears and make ourselves vulnerable in order to experience and do God’s work of love. I was not expecting this encounter or these deep thoughts. But I was glad for the moments of sanctuary and sea. Sometimes surprise encounters are the most meaningful. Setúbal certainly exceeded my expectations.