The daily morning journal and courier., 1899-12-14
FROM BRAGA TO LISBON.
4 RATLROID JOURNEY DOWN THE
 LENGTH OF PORTUGAL.
Has Been Standing StiII Couple of JesusH

Centuries-The Tagus River-"Bcm
 Jesus.n
 Especial Correspondence of the Journal
 and Courier
 Lisbon, Portugal, Nov. 12-Next to
 Oporto, the archiepiscopal city of Bra
 ga is the most important in northern
 Portugal, and it certainly occupies the most beautiful situation. Its elevated
 valley of well-tilled farms is surround ed by ranges of bare mountains, piled
 peak above peak-rosy-gr where the
 sunlight bathes them, purple where
 cloud-shadows rall and fading in far off, airy perspective liwke the unsub- stantial vapor wreaths of early dawn. Four miles beyond Braga and two thou
 sand feet above it rises the hill Of Bom Jesus one of the most holy places in the peninsula, which is thronged during
 the summer with religious people from all parts of Spain and Portugal. Near
 the summit is a church in which many miracles are believed to have been per- formed and close by it great cara vansery, built for the accommodation of pilgrims. This queer inn, which is also
 called "Bom Jesus'-(Good Jesus, the latter word pronounced Hay-soos), is one of the very best to be found in southern Europe; therefore sophistica- ted travellers drive straight to 1t from the Braga station, ignoring the several hostelries of the town. Telegraphing ahead to the lately established Con- panhia da Viacao, which greatly facili- tates travel in Minho province by fur nshing vehicles In remotest parts at moments notice--you may secure an open pflaeton, or a roomy, covered ca leche, according to the weather Then up you go with a chatter of hoofs and cracking of whips along a steep and winding road, at first under enormous oaks that seem to be shaking hands overhead. A series of entrancing views are unfolded every turn revealing new panorama of groves and gardens, orchards and vineyards; cottages over- grown with wisteria vines and Banh- sian roses; pine-clad hills rich in end less harmonies of subdued greens from sunlt gray-greens of the common pine to somber indigo-green shadows cast by the heavier folaged stone-pine mount ing hill above hill, to the mountains whose cloudy tops are merged in the ho- rizon.
 The great, two-story, barrack-like inn looks comfortless enough, but is crammed with guests. religious and ir- religious, at all seasons of the year. Immense rooms, set thick with narrow cots like the wards of hospital; white washed walls and carpetless floors; no fires (except for cooking) even in the depth of winter; odors of cabbage soup f,rYi A~t n1 frowsy bare-footed maids, walters the reverse of the customary adjective, "bustling,' and sleepy proprietor, with plenty of customers, who cares not a straw whether you go or stay-these are the characteristics that impress you first in Good Jesus hotel. But it is far better than the average Portuguese inn, and. by payment of triple prices, per haps you may secure one of the smaller rooms solus. The beds are of husk hard as the rocky hillside and the dumplng-like pillows remind you of the Scottish laird who, when on cat tle-stealing expedition with his clan, bivouacking in snow-storm, found his son sleeping with rolled snow-ball un- der his head for pillow, and kicked it indignantly away, swearing that no son of his should indulge in such effeminate luxury.
 In Portugal, where everything French is hated, you must not say table q hote, but speak of the same thing as mesa TO- 1 dondo (round table), though in form the | literal board" is long and narrow. No matter what hour you arrive at Bon Jesus, your dinner will be served in five | minutes on one end of the lengthy ta- ble You may amuse yourself, if you 1 like, with ordering from the volumi- | nous menu, but if you designate twen- ty different dinners on as many differ | ent days, the result will be precisely | the same each time, with possibly not | an article you have mentioned. The | greatest delicacy and triumph of the | Portuguese cuisine is bacalhau (cod- | flsh), which is costlier than turkey game or the best of beef. The natives prefer it raw, cut into inch-wide strips that look like bits of red pine; they also broil it, like Potomac shad, make it into a sort of Irish stew, or mince, and fry 1t in balls-always with too plentiful combination of oil and garlic. Among other favorite dishes, be- aueathed by the Moors and Saracens, is a dessert, known as rebanadas--thick slices of wheaton bread, soaked in milk, fried in olive oil and then tEiclSly spread with honey. The sticky dyspepsia compound bears distant re- to what we call French toast" and you meet with it every where among the nomad tribes between Arabia and Morocco, under the name of ra banat
 In any Portuguese inn you need not give an order concerning morning call, because the tone of voice in which the internal economy of the household is conducted banishes slumber long be- fore daylight It is well to arise with the sun at Bonn Jesus, in order to feat he morning air." in the picturesque language of the country, and also to snioy the magnificent prospect from he balconies of the building. To the westward, almost beneath your feet, ies Braga, encamped between gray md purple mountains. The sun glints ,bliuuely on the red green and yellow walls of the old town, bringing out in bold relief the brown towers of the treat cathedral and the quaint square urrets of it's medieval castle. Far to he eastward lies the strange city of [ Suimaraens with the Falperra range
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