The friar's island

The friar's island

To say island is pretentious. That is not even an island. At most it is a land tongue, so to speak, surrounded by water on all sides. But is this the official definition for an island? Okay, let's call it an island - although that is just a small ornithological reserve located on the right bank of the Douro River on the old site of Ouro, now officially called the Largo de António Calém.
“Friar's Island”. And this name is linked to a curious legend. What happens in the joyful time of the convents and what is this: on the left bank of the Douro River, in front of Massarelos, not far from the island, the monastery of Santo António do Vale da Piedade of Franciscan friars bleached in its grandeur. The porter was a handsome young man who, although a layman, wore the modest bunting habit of the followers of Francisco de Assis. It was he who made the connection between the convent and the outside. Now, among the people who regularly appeared at the conventual entrance there was a cheerful girl who every morning was going to take the milk intended for the consumption of the friars. Those daily contacts of the young milkmaid with the boy in charge of the surveillance of the door of the convent turned the head of the young novice who, one day, found the strength to tell the girl that he liked her, that he had no orders, that is, that he was not. friar and could at any time leave the monastery and get married. And that if she was due to the adjustments ... The girl didn't say yes or no. That she was going to think and that the next day she said something to him. She had a boyfriend to whom she told what had happened at the convent's door. And the sly boyfriend drew up a system and instructed the girl to say yes to the convent's porter and to inform him that at the end of the day a boat would pick him up to the tongue that served the convent and take him to her. And so it happened. Through the trinities the boat emerged from the dense fog that hung over the river. Without any exchange of words between the boatman and the “friar”, he entered and settled down and waited. And he didn't wait long. Minutes later, the boat moored ashore and the friar jumped in the conviction that his Dulcineia was waiting for him, as agreed by the two. Only the girl didn't show up. He called well, but got no answer. The fog had become more and more dense and, to make matters worse, the night fell, pitch black. Wherever the novice went, he found only water. He sat down waiting. He fell asleep and when the day cleared, the story of the log he had fallen into took place. He was a prisoner on an island before the delight of the couple who enjoyed the spectacle on the bank. Legend has it that it was well after midday when a boat from the convent came to collect the poor friar. Even today, people call that piece of land the island of the friar ...