Introduction
About an hour’s drive north from Lisbon, the cape town of Peniche juts out into the Atlantic Ocean. This small fishing town has lived alongside the wild sea winds at Portugal’s western edge for centuries. A fortress was built here in the 16th century, and its stone walls continue to quietly watch over the sea, having protected this land for generations.
Peniche’s charm lies undoubtedly in its simplicity. Never over-developed as a tourist destination, it remains a place where fishermen’s daily routines blend with the laughter of young surfers. The coastline surrounding the cape is wonderfully varied - calm inlets shelter gentle waves while dramatic cliffs face the full force of Atlantic swells. The fresh seafood caught in these waters reaches its full potential through simple preparation methods that honor the natural flavors.
I chose this town because I wanted to escape the noise and spend quiet time with the sea. Peniche seemed like a place that could fulfill such wishes. The raw beauty of its cliffs, the rhythm of its fishing boats, and the authentic warmth of its people promised an experience far removed from the typical tourist trail.
Day 1: Welcomed by Sea Breezes
After an hour and a half bus ride from Lisbon’s Rossio Station, I stepped off at Peniche’s bus terminal and was immediately greeted by the smell of the sea. That salty, life-filled aroma seemed to announce the beginning of my journey, and my heart leaped with anticipation.
I had chosen a small pensão (guesthouse) in the heart of the old town. Walking through narrow cobblestone alleys with my luggage, I noticed laundry fluttering on balconies and cats napping in sunny spots. This wasn’t the manufactured beauty created for tourists, but the genuine face of a town where people’s lives naturally became part of the landscape - and that made me happy.
Maria Luísa, the pensão’s owner, was a gentle woman in her sixties who guided me to my room with broken English and expressive gestures. From the corner room on the second floor, I could see the town’s red tile roofs and the blue sea stretching beyond them. Opening the window, I heard distant waves carried on the sea breeze.
After settling in, I decided to explore the town. The old quarter was smaller than I’d expected - you could walk from end to end in fifteen minutes. White-walled houses with blue trim lined the streets, and occasionally I encountered buildings beautifully decorated with azulejos (Portuguese decorative tiles). From the church bell tower, three o’clock chimes echoed across the town.
For lunch, I chose a small tasca (tavern) bustling with locals. Today’s catch was written on a blackboard menu, and the owner João smiled as he recommended, “Today’s robalo (sea bass) is excellent.” The grilled robalo, seasoned simply with lemon and coarse salt, revealed the fish’s natural sweetness and subtle oceanic essence - more memorable than any fish dish I’d ever tasted. The accompanying potatoes, crispy outside and fluffy within, embodied both the simplicity and richness of this seaside town’s cuisine.
In the afternoon, I visited the Peniche Fortress. This 16th-century stronghold now serves as a museum, telling the story of this land’s relationship with the sea. Climbing onto the fortress walls revealed a 360-degree panorama. To the north lay the small fishing harbor with colorful boats at anchor. South stretched dramatic cliffs where white spray crashed against rock faces. To the west spread the unobstructed Atlantic horizon.
As evening approached, the fortress walls became a perfect viewpoint for sunset. As the sun neared the horizon, the sky gradually turned orange. Others had also come to enjoy the sunset, but everyone remained quietly absorbed in the beautiful scene. When the sun touched the horizon, I thought I glimpsed the “green flash” - that momentary emerald light that sometimes appears at sunset - though whether it was real or imagination, I couldn’t say. But the beauty of that moment was certainly etched into my heart.
For dinner, I chose a small restaurant near the harbor. When I ordered arroz de mariscos (seafood risotto), a fragrant dish arrived brimming with shrimp, mussels, and clams. The beautiful saffron yellow reminded me that each spoonful delivered the ocean’s bounty. Paired with local vinho verde (lightly sparkling white wine), its refreshing quality enhanced the seafood’s umami even further.
Walking back to the guesthouse along lamp-lit cobblestones, I was enveloped by the town’s nighttime tranquility. Only distant wave sounds and occasional footsteps of passing locals colored the silence. I fell asleep with my window open, the sea breeze and wave sounds serving as lullabies that carried me into deep rest.
Day 2: Embracing the Gifts of Sea and Land
I woke around six to the sound of fishermen’s voices echoing from the harbor. Looking down from my window, I could see boats returning with the dawn, crews sorting their night’s catch at the docks. I realized that Peniche’s day begins with the sea.
The pensão’s breakfast was simple - freshly baked pastéis de nata (custard tarts) and coffee prepared by Maria Luísa. The aromatic warmth of the just-baked tarts and the gentle sweetness of their custard cream created a perfect morning moment. She advised, “The weather’s beautiful today - you should visit Ilha da Berlenga.”
Berlenga Island floats about 12 kilometers west of Peniche, accessible by tourist boat only during summer months. I headed to the harbor to catch the 9 AM departure. The dock was already busy with tourists and locals waiting for the boat - families with fishing gear, young people carrying snorkeling equipment.
As the boat departed, Peniche’s coastline gradually receded. The land viewed from sea revealed a different beauty - white waves against cliff faces, green fields spreading above, red-roofed houses dotting the landscape like a painting. The journey took about thirty minutes.
Berlenga Island proved much smaller than I’d imagined. The entire island is designated as a nature reserve, preserving its untouched wilderness. At the highest point stands a 17th-century fortress, now serving as accommodation. I decided to walk the island’s circular hiking trail.
Following the rocky path, I encountered various seabirds - gulls, cormorants, and rare species resting on rocky outcrops. On the island’s north side, the sea’s transparency amazed me. The emerald-green seabed was clearly visible, with schools of small fish swimming in formation. I couldn’t resist removing my shoes to wade in - the cold water provided welcome relief from summer heat.
The four hours on the island passed quickly. On the return boat, reflecting on my island time, I was reminded of how precious moments spent in nature truly are. Urban life makes us forget the pace of time, the comfort of surrendering to natural rhythms - the island had restored this awareness.
Returning to Peniche after 3 PM, I decided to explore the local market before lunch. Though small, it displayed that morning’s catch alongside vegetables and fruits from nearby farms. Particularly striking were the silver-gleaming sardines and perfectly ripe red tomatoes. An elderly vendor proudly told me, “My son grew these tomatoes.” Her smile carried the pride and joy of living from this land.
My late lunch at a small restaurant near the market featured charcoal-grilled sardines. The skin was crispy and aromatic, the flesh tender and flaky - simple preparation with just lemon that maximized the sardines’ natural flavor. The accompanying bread and local olives also showcased excellent ingredients.
Late afternoon found me strolling the coastal walkway. Peniche’s shoreline is wonderfully diverse - sandy beaches alternating with rocky sections, each with distinct beauty. Particularly memorable was “Praia da Gamboa,” a small cove sheltered by rocks on both sides. The calm waves and hidden-away feeling made it seem like a secret refuge. I spent about an hour there simply watching the sea, accompanied only by waves against rocks, wind through grass, and distant bird calls.
Evening brought me back to the fortress for another sunset. Different cloud formations created complex patterns across the sky. Though watching the same sunset from the same place, the experience felt completely different from yesterday. I realized nature changes its expression every day, every moment.
For dinner, locals directed me to a small family-run restaurant where I tried cataplana - a traditional seafood stew cooked in a distinctive copper pot. The combination of shrimp, shellfish, fish, and vegetables achieved perfect balance - flavors melding while maintaining individual character. Owner Carlos explained, “This recipe came from my grandmother.” I savored each bite, tasting the history and love embedded in the dish.
Before returning to the guesthouse, I walked around the harbor. The nighttime port showed a completely different face - lights from fishing boats reflecting on water created an enchanting scene. I glimpsed fishermen mending nets for tomorrow’s catch, offering insight into the rhythm of local life.
Day 3: Morning Farewell and Lasting Memories
On my final morning, I woke earlier than usual. Perhaps the approaching departure naturally encouraged early rising. I gazed at the morning view from my window, trying to burn it into memory - roof tiles illuminated by dawn light, blue sea, white clouds, all beautiful and precious.
After breakfast, I bid farewell to Maria Luísa. She said “Come back again” and presented me with a small jar of homemade marmalade. “Made from Peniche oranges. When you eat it at home, remember this town,” she said with her gentle smile. Her warmth brought tears to my eyes.
With several hours before my bus, I took a final walk through town, visiting each familiar place from the past two days. At yesterday’s market, the grandmother was selling vegetables as usual. João from the tasca said regretfully, “So you’re leaving already.” At the harbor, fishermen continued their morning work.
Finally, I revisited the fortress, this time exploring the museum section thoroughly. Peniche’s history, its relationship with the sea, and stories of people who lived here were told through artifacts. Particularly moving were displays of old fishing tools and memorials to sailors lost in storms. This beautiful sea sometimes shows a harsh face, yet people have continued living alongside it.
From the fortress walls, I took one last look over Peniche. Though small, the town contained rich lives, deep history, and warm-hearted people. Despite my brief three-day stay, I felt I had touched a part of the townspeople’s lives.
My final lunch at the first day’s tasca featured caldeirada, a hearty fish soup containing various seafood in rich broth - a fitting last meal that concentrated this land’s flavors. João urged, “Next time, stay longer.”
The 2 PM bus would take me away from Peniche. I walked slowly to the terminal, pulling my luggage along the now-familiar route. Three days ago, this road was unknown; now it felt like home. From my window seat, I watched the town recede into the distance.
As the bus left Peniche, the landscape gradually changed from coastal to inland scenery. My last glimpse was of the cape jutting into the Atlantic with its fortress standing guard. The sunsets I’d witnessed there, the sea breezes I’d felt, the smiling faces I’d encountered - all came flooding back.
By the time I reached Lisbon, evening had fallen. Surrounded by urban noise, Peniche’s quiet moments seemed even more precious. Strangely, I felt more fulfilled than sad. Though brief, those days spent in that town were deeply etched into my heart.
Epilogue
My three days in Peniche, though an imaginary journey, felt genuinely real. Maria Luísa’s warm smile, João’s recommended fish dishes, Berlenga Island’s crystal-clear waters, beautiful sunsets from the fortress, and the kindness of people met on street corners - all live vividly in memory.
Travel isn’t simply about moving between places, but about breathing local air, meeting people, and touching culture. Peniche may not be famous as a tourist destination, but that’s precisely why I found treasures there - simple, warm people, beautiful nature, and peaceful daily life flowing at its own gentle pace.
Though not a real journey, my heart’s visit to Peniche and the time spent there has become part of me. Perhaps someday I’ll truly visit that town. When that day comes, I’ll remember the landscapes and people from this imaginary journey while making new discoveries.
A journey that feels real despite being imaginary - perhaps that’s another kind of reality, born from wanderlust and imagination working together.
