A short drive west of Porto, and the Atlantic reveals itself—fierce, restless, wholly untamed. Unlike the gentle Mediterranean, these waves crash with a vigour that sends mist rising in the evening air, an ethereal reminder of their force. Swimming here is out of the question, so the sea pool offers a serene retreat amid the ocean’s raw energy.

In the 1960s, as Portugal’s empire frayed, the young Álvaro Siza was entrusted with this project after designing the nearby teahouse. Siza’s vision was poetic, even humble—a gentle counterpoint to the modernist drive of his era. He embedded two pools among the rocks, so harmoniously they seemed sculpted by the sea itself. At high tide, the Atlantic fills them anew, while the changing rooms’ suspended wooden partitions, dark with fine white grain, echo the textures of the churning waves.

After four decades, the pool became worn and was eventually restored, though the view Siza fought to keep pure is now broken by refinery towers. The peeling paint clouds the water, a murky reflection of Portugal’s own complex history.

Perhaps its truest fate would be to return to the sea, worn smooth by tides and time—a quiet dissolution, its design finally complete as it merges with the ocean’s eternal rhythm.