On the west coast of Lundy lies a place called Earthquake. Whether there was ever a true earthquake on Lundy, is a story lost in time. Some accounts suggest the great fissures in the rocks appeared around 1775. This was the same year as the devastating Lisbon earthquake. This blog takes me on a tale of two places; Lundy and Lisbon.

The Lisbon Earthquake

The Great Lisbon Earthquake of 1 November is estimated to have reached a size of 8.5–9.0, making it one of the most destructive earthquakes in European history. Between 20,000 and 60,000 people are thought to have died — the figure depends on which account you read. It is known that the earthquake struck on All Saints’ Day, a time when churches were full. Many interpreted it as an act of God.

Draw a line from Lisbon to Lundy, it would run almost due north for around 1,600 kilometres. It would leave the warmth and light of the Portuguese coast. Then, it would pass out across the Tagus estuary and move into the open Atlantic. From there, it would cross the Bay of Biscay. Next, it would traverse the Celtic Sea before reaching this granite outcrop in the Bristol Channel.

A line that Shifts

But a line like this is never fixed. At sea, it shifts with currents and tides. Winds pull at it, gathering far out in the Atlantic before arriving at Lundy’s cliffs.

On Lundy, the ground does not easily give up its story. The fissures at Earthquake suggest movement. They show a rupture. Whether they were formed in a single moment or over a long stretch of time remains uncertain. The name itself feels like an inherited memory. It acts as a way to explain a landscape that resists being fully understood.

Lisbon: Rebuilding a City

In Lisbon, the story is different. The city was rebuilt with intention after the earthquake, its streets ordered and widened, its buildings designed to endure. Walking there now, it is difficult to grasp the scale of what was lost. Yet something of it lingers in the geometry of the streets. It lingers in the facades. There is a sense of a city shaped by both destruction and resilience.

Our new home in Alvaiázere Portugal is 169Km from Lisbon, a journey of just under two hours. The house is equidistant between Porto and Lisbon.

Standing by the Tagus river (Rio Tejo), I have often wondered: if I faced North, could I somehow see Lundy? Not literally, of course, but as a line of thought — a connection drawn across water.

You move between two very different landscapes when you follow that line. Two very different kinds of weather. Each landscape is shaped by the same ocean in different ways. One marked by sudden and catastrophic change, the other by quieter, more ambiguous traces. Both are held within the reach of the Atlantic. Both are shaped by forces that are felt as much as they are seen.

Lundy is where I am, where I walk and spend time with the landscape. Portugal is becoming somewhere new — a place for different kinds of exploration.

The line between them feels like more than just distance; it’s beginning to shape the next part of my journey.