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The Independent
22-05-2025
- The Independent
Why Europe is having more earthquakes – and the science behind the rise
Tourists were urged to 'move away from the coast' after a 6.1-magnitude earthquake struck near Crete in the early hours of Monday morning, triggering tsunami warning. The quake, which hit at 3:19am local time, startled residents and holidaymakers alike, a stark reminder of the region's vulnerability to seismic shocks. Last year, residents in Lisbon experienced their own terrifying wake-up call when an earthquake struck without warning at 5:11am. To make matters worse, the computer system of Portugal's oceanic and atmospheric agency crashed shortly after the shaking began. No injuries were reported, but those jolted from sleep described moments of panic and disorientation. Patricia Brito, who lives in the centre of the city, says that once she found her footing, she skidded into her parents thinking 'this was the big one'. The shaking lasted less than a minute, but for three hours, she couldn't go to sleep as she and her friends WhatsApped each other from Setubal to Porto as they shared their stories. 'One friend woke up and threw up a minute before it started, so she must have been hypersensitive to it coming.' While the earthquake was moderate, with Lisbon 84km from its epicentre, the news dominated Portuguese and European headlines as it was felt in Gibraltar, Spain and Morocco. The panic among Lisboetas was also understandable as residents of the city are used to living in the shadow of 1755, when a massive earthquake collapsed Lisbon's churches during mass, launched tsunami waves over the city's walls, and caused fires that lasted six days. Scientists estimate the magnitude of that devastating event was 7.7 compared to the 5.4 that occurred on 26 August. What would an earthquake of that size mean for Lisbon today? Given that two-thirds of the city's buildings were built before anti-seismic regulations of the 1980s, the damage could be untold, which is why residents of that city are often exposed to drills whether that is tsunami alarms that are tested near the waterfront of the city, or school children being given instructions of what to do in the event of a catastrophic event. In the aftermath, residents were all sent text messages reminding them to be alert to aftershocks, keep shoes close to them and check for cracks, damage and smells of gas. As southern Europe's seismic activity intensifies, scientists are warning that these recent tremors could be part of a broader and more dangerous pattern. We might not want to think about it, but Lisbon and Crete, like many parts of Europe, is under constant threat. It is just a matter of time before another big one strikes southern Europe. There's no stopping the African tectonic plate on its path northward, threatening major upheaval. Research published this May indicates that the climate crisis has magnified the hazard: rising sea levels and stronger storms can trigger earthquakes and related disasters like landslides and tsunamis. Even a little extra pressure from a full lake or reservoir can initiate seismic slip. This means increased risk for coastal areas around the Mediterranean, which are particularly vulnerable. Not even the UK is safe, where earthquakes might seem exotic from the vantage point of the British Isles. In the 19th century, the popular historian Henry Thomas Buckle insisted that freedom from earthquakes was a precondition for Britain's economic dynamism, since fear would discourage investment. He even claimed that earthquake-prone lands were doomed to mental backwardness, for 'there grow up among the people those feelings of awe, and of helplessness, on which all superstition is based'. Nonetheless, the Scottish highlands have a long, well-documented history of small earthquakes. The tiny village of Comrie even became a tourist destination in the 19th century for those curious to feel the earth shake. In 1863, a tremor was palpable across 85,000 square metres of England, and in 1884 a quake centred in Essex caused enough damage to launch a national collection. For a brief moment following these tremors, fear struck the heart of the British empire. Charles Dickens proclaimed that 'we enjoy no immunity from the most sudden, the most irresistible, the most destructive of nature's powers. Another such shock as the Lisbon earthquake may happen this or next year.' The Times warned of 'means, utterly beyond our ken and our computation, far below our feet, by which cities may be subverted, populations suddenly cut off, and empires ruined…Who can say what strange trial of shaking, or upheaving, sinking, dividing, or drying up may await us?' These were passing worries. Earthquakes in the UK were sooner entertainment than hazard. Nineteenth-century Londoners could procure a thrill by visiting the Cyclorama's recreation of the Great Lisbon Earthquake, including moving scenery and offstage screams. British earthquakes were long forgotten when the UK began building nuclear reactors in the 1960s, without anti-seismic reinforcement. Seismologists did their best to raise awareness. In 1983, The New Scientist placed an image on its cover of a cup of tea being thrown from its saucer, with the headline 'Is Britain Prepared for Earthquakes?' The Times responded with a dismissive editorial, insisting that the British 'have other things on their mind'. In the 2010s, reports of tremors in Lancashire were linked to hydraulic fracking, which can trigger earthquakes much as rising water levels do. The government placed a moratorium on fracking in 2019, but fear of a fuel shortage from the war in Ukraine has driven demands to lift it. Experts are still calculating the risks. The earthquakes that threaten southern Europe are roughly 100,000 times more powerful than the ones produced by fracking in the UK. Governments in the region rely on short-term forecasting to avert disaster. Following a deadly earthquake in L'Aquila, Italy in 2009, six seismologists were convicted of manslaughter because they had failed to warn the city of imminent danger. Although their convictions were overturned on appeal, the demand for earthquake forecasts has grown. This is a dangerous trend, since seismologists agree that there's no reliable method for predicting earthquakes. The only way to reduce risk is to avoid building near active faults and to enforce construction codes. The message is clear: facing up to seismic risk requires long-term planning. It also requires cooperation. The most destructive earthquake in Europe's history hit Sicily in 1908. It killed approximately half the residents of Messina and destroyed around 90 per cent of the city's buildings. The disaster struck as Europe's imperial powers seemed headed towards conflict. Just two months earlier, Austria had annexed Bosnia, fanning the flames that would lead to war in 1914. The humanitarian response to the earthquake was prompt and dramatic. Dozens of Russian, British, French, and American ships brought food, blankets, and construction materials. American workers built roughly 3,000 new homes for the survivors with material provided by the US government and the Red Cross. They did so with the explicit aim of promoting 'good feeling between the nations'. Two weeks after the disaster, the cover of a German satirical magazine featured a drawing of two demons, one commenting to the other: 'Everything was so beautifully prepared for a war. Then that meathead comes and makes an earthquake! The whole human race is fraternising again, and we've lost our chance.' Although the demon was sadly mistaken about the chance of war, the earthquake did inspire international partnership in the long term. The International Relief Union was founded in 1927 by a member of the Italian Red Cross who had dedicated several months to recovery work in Messina in 1908. There he learned that responding to disasters would require an unprecedented degree of international coordination. Earthquake preparedness also calls for cooperation with the public. One of the surest ways to collect information about seismic risk while raising public awareness is to encourage citizens to take science into their own hands. Ironically, Europeans tended to be more seismically savvy in the 19th century than today. Back then, scientists built their accounts of earthquakes largely from the eyewitness accounts of survivors. 'Likely in no other field is the researcher so completely dependent on the help of the non-geologist,' wrote one 19th-century geologist; 'and nowhere is the observation of each individual of such high value as with earthquakes… Only through the cooperation of all can a satisfying result be delivered.' Even today, the most sophisticated seismographs alone can't say how much damage a future temblor is likely to cause. That kind of information can only come from people on the ground sharing their observations. As I discovered by reading dusty letters between scientists and citizen observers for my book on the subject, a lively dialogue emerged in the 19th century about how best to live with seismic risk. Scientists learned what the readings of their instruments meant in terms of the felt experience of people on the scene, while observers developed a new curiosity about our dynamic planet. Reviving this dialogue could help Europe build a common language for earthquake safety today.
Irish Times
15-05-2025
- Politics
- Irish Times
Portugal far-right leader suffers second collapse days before election
The leader of Portugal 's far-right party Chega collapsed on Thursday during an open-air campaign rally in advance of Sunday's general election and was rushed to hospital, two days after suffering a similar incident at another party event. In videos from the rally in Odemira in southern Portugal that circulated online, Andre Ventura (42), could be seen grabbing his chest and trying to undo his tie before collapsing into the arms of his aides who carried him away. Hospital clinical director Jose Sousa e Costa said Mr Ventura was in a stable condition and although there was currently no indication he was suffering from a heart problem, further medical exams were required. Mr Ventura will be transferred to another hospital in Setubal, near Lisbon, to undergo a medical procedure. READ MORE Mr Ventura was discharged from hospital in Faro only on Wednesday after his previous collapse. The hospital said he had an esophageal spasm caused by gastric reflux and high blood pressure. Chega lawmaker Marta Silva told CNN Portugal the electrocardiogram in an ambulance immediately after the second collapse showed that 'everything is well with his heart' and it was likely another spasm. Mr Ventura founded the anti-establishment Chega in 2019, advocating tougher sentences for criminals, calling for an end to Portugal's 'open doors' immigration policy and accusing the mainstream political parties of perpetuating corruption. Chega became the third-largest parliamentary force in 2022 and quadrupled its parliamentary seats last year to 50 after running on a platform of fighting corruption and immigration. Most analysts say the party is a one-man show, owing its success to Ventura's fiery eloquence, charisma and good looks. In advance of Sunday's election, opinion polls show Chega in third place, little changed from its 2024 result of 18 per cent, its meteoric rise apparently stalled by recent scandals involving several senior party members. – Reuters
Times
09-05-2025
- Times
The secret Portuguese paradise that's less than an hour from Lisbon
James Bond had the worst honeymoon in history in Arrabida. Just after getting hitched during the 1969 film version of On Her Majesty's Secret Service, 007 and Tracy are interrupted along a coast road by Blofeld and his henchwoman Irma, who kills Diana Rigg's heroine. Just before George Lazenby's lovesick spy starts stammering and the film ends, the camera pans — and one of Portugal's most criminally unsung regions looks postcard-perfect in the background. And it still does today, thanks to a protection order that has been in place since 1975. Comprising nearly 70 square miles of land and sea, the Arrabida Natural Park lines the Setubal Peninsula's southern coast, close to Lisbon, and provides a compelling landscape: densely vegetated mountains slanting down to a series of white-sand coves whose aquamarine shallows recall the tropics. Despite that, it doesn't seem to draw much attention beyond Portugal's borders. Adding to the allure is a winning convenience on offer. Less than four hours after leaving Gatwick, including a 35-minute drive south from Lisbon airport, I'm quickly checking into Casa Palmela, one of very few hotels inside the park. Five minutes later, a poolside view of rippling vineyards, gardens and woodlands soundtracked solely by birdsong is mine and mine alone. There's only one thing missing. 'Would you like your welcome drink now?' murmurs an apparently-psychic waiter who has materialised out of thin air. Casa Palmela is a whitewashed 17th-century manor house that was once a Jesuit college's summer residence and is now owned by a local duke and duchess. Its 400-year-old stone floor, many azulejo tiles and first-floor chapel are emphasised by bright white walls and occasional blocks of sage green. The old refectory hosts a restaurant where kitchen-garden produce anchors rustic but formally delivered riffs on local dishes: I devour sizzled grouper with clams and tomatoey risotto rice on one night, then fresh chestnut soup another. Surrounding a lounge, with its mounted stag's head, are 21 airy bedrooms; on the ground floor, mine pairs flowery fabrics with a pitched-roof terrace looking towards jungle-green hills. As well as the main pool, a second one in cork tree gardens neighbours an annexe where five apartments sleep up to eight people and offer families some privacy. Guests — mostly Americans; a few Brits — are encouraged to walk or cycle around the 75-acre quinta using maps available at reception. I settle for a gentle meander, enjoying the acidic tang of orange trees; cavorting butterflies near a small, simple wellness centre; neat rows of vines used to produce honeyed Moscatel de Setubal, one of Portugal's lesser-known fortified wines; and the sudden, joyous waft of rosemary atop a hillock. In an office next to Casa Palmela, guests can arrange sustainably minded guided days out, from weaving or wine-tasting workshops to traditional tile-making at a company that's a favourite of Elton John, horse-riding , sunset yoga, snorkelling — the park encompasses 20 square miles of clear, clean sea — or boat trips around the Sado river's wide estuary, looking for one of mainland Europe's few resident bottlenose dolphin pods. 'Ninety-nine per cent,' promises Salvador Holstein, the hotel's communications manager and cousin of the owner, when I ask about the likelihood of encountering dolphins. 'We also take guests for picnics on tidal sandbars' — these appear around the spindly Troia peninsula, which narrows the estuary entrance like an extended harbour wall. 'We've hosted a marriage ceremony there as well.' Unseasonably wet weather precludes a boat trip or marriage ceremony for me, but I am able to investigate Arrabida's headline act: that series of beautiful beaches. All are south-facing and thus, while their waters are cold, they're spared the surf-tastic swells found elsewhere along Portugal's west coast. Among the biggest is Figueirinha, whose wide lozenge of sand juts out from plummeting limestone and has its own low-tide sandbank extending seawards. Further west comes elegant Galapos, with a sleek beach club where hot dogs cost just £3, and then wilder, smaller Galapinhos and Coelhos, both accessible only on foot or by boat. Portinho da Arrabida is the other long shore, overlooked by a small fort turned oceanographic museum. Most have lifeguards and loungers during summer; you'll encounter crowds then, plus hawkers of creamy doughnuts, yet breathing space won't be impossible to find. Traffic and parking are extremely restricted, in keeping with this being a natural park (although Casa Palmela's guests can book private transfers to Galapos, plus sunbeds). Such carefully managed tourism is thrown into sharp relief by what's happening over on the Troia peninsula. This is supposedly protected too, yet a big resort, Na Praia, should open next year after getting the go-ahead, despite fierce opposition from environmental associations. Holstein discusses Na Praia with sadness, but cheers up when I mention Arrabida's Unesco Biosphere Reserve candidacy, with the verdict due in September. 'We need to fiercely protect Arrabida's authentic, distinctive offerings,' he tells me, 'without our being misleading, such as simply promoting beach holidays. Having Unesco involved will help. Sustainable tourism here must be grown responsibly — not like we are seeing in Troia.' The estate neighbouring Casa Palmela includes a grand seafront residence, Palacio da Comenda, where Jacqueline Kennedy and her children supposedly recuperated after JFK's murder. Numerous websites reproduce this story, yet Holstein doubts its veracity. What he does confirm is that Queen Elizabeth II visited Arrabida in 1957, joining Prince Philip at Holstein's great-grandparents' house for a few quiet days before a state visit. • 10 of the most beautiful places in Portugal (and how to see them) 'They wanted somewhere quiet, to be incognito,' Holstein says. 'He was only ten years old at the time, but my father still remembers her with great affection.' Following in the Queen's footsteps, I tour the former 16th-century Nossa Senhora da Arrabida monastery complex high on a coastal hillside. It's no longer in religious use, so its vivid white buildings — embellished by flowerbeds, azulejo panels and seashell installations — echo a Cycladic village. Water trickles along gently-slanting pipes; otherwise, stillness reigns, be it in the plain bedrooms or the main chapel (from £7, book ahead; Further uphill is a hermitage established, according to legend, in the 1200s by a shipwrecked British merchant called Hildebrandt upon instruction from the Virgin Mary; around it, seven small, bulbous monastic cells line the slope like pearls on a string. An hour later I descend 200 steps to the sea-level Santa Margarida cave, in which there's an improbably located shrine and altar, likely established by 17th-century fishermen. Later I visit sturdy old defensive fortresses above Palmela, a quaint hilltown, and the port-city of Setubal. A café-bar in the latter's castle affords marvellous views over the Troia peninsula, and is perfectly positioned for sundowners. With its faded pastel buildings, Setubal itself feels tired, but remains worth visiting for the indoor, 150-year-old Livramento food market, whose back wall hosts a glorious, colossal mural depicting the lives of fishermen and farmers. Seemingly the only tourist, I try two of the Sado river oysters at one stand before scrutinising strange toadfish at another. • Where to go in Portugal: 10 secret spots the locals love Unhurried driving turns out to be my favourite Arrabida pleasure. There are some wonderful roads, hugging the shore or climbing to panoramic viewpoints like the one beside which James Bond's new bride met her end. From another, further along the ER379-1, I gaze seawards at a Portuguese coastal destination more familiar to Brits: glamorous Comporta — where the prices are higher, the mosquitoes are a notorious summer pest and the secret is most definitely out. 'Comporta has become a place where appearances matter above all,' Holstein later says. 'Arrabida is the complete, authentic opposite: here you come to escape and simply be yourself.' Just like James Bond did, I think— but hopefully without any Blofeld to worry Mellor was a guest of Casa Palmela, which has B&B doubles from £175 ( and TAP Portugal, which has Gatwick-Lisbon returns from £116 (
