After a leisurely breakfast we throw on our wet-weather gear and continue exploring. Today we are going further afield, to the Eastern parish for more church spotting. We walk the soggy cobblestone streets, occasionally scratching our heads as we take wrong turnings (a combination of bad maps and poor street signage) until after a rather steep hike (up and down) we make it to Igreja de Santa Efigerua dos Pretos. It was built between 1742 and 1749 by slaves, for slaves, and gives spectacular views of colonial Ouro Prêto. The church is in the midst of restoration work, but we persuade the restorers to allow us a quick peek (and a few photos) of the beautiful artwork. Further out still (in the non-touristy part of town) lies the simple design of Capela do Padre Faria. Built between 1701-04, it’s one of the oldest chapels in the town, and is dedicated to the priest (Father Faria) who was chaplain of the expedition that founded Ouro Prêto in 1698.
Not wishing to negotiate the steep hills back from the Eastern parish to central Ouro Prêto again, we jump aboard a local bus. And the journey is like something out of the Wacky Races as the bus careens menacingly down cobblestone streets and around blind corners with Dick Dastardly driving and his side-kick, Muttley, acting as the conductor. It’s a relief to reach Tiradentes square in one piece and only moments before the latest monsoon begins. We watch the downpour from a pretty little restaurant near the square. I think the management of this restaurant must be fans of the British TV show, Fawlty Towers, because the sausages Christi orders morphs into roasted tomatoes, while my hot chocolate arrives with a frosting of cream cheese rather than whipped cream – bizarre.
After the rain subsides we explore Igreja de Sao Francisco de Asis. The façade of this church was carved by that man Aleijadinho again. Indeed, this church is regarded as his masterpiece as he evolved the highly ornate baroque style into an exuberant and overindulgent style known as rococo. And even on this cold wet day, it brings joy to the heart.
Blog post by Roderick Phillips, author of Weary Heart, a gut-wrenching, heart-wrenching, laugh-wrenching story
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