Photography

Flowers for Jake!

Flowers in bread oven

Flowers in bread oven

You have to smile, don’t you?  Whenever I’ve done one of Jake’s challenges, I’ve always sang along to myself as I selected the images.  Don’t ask me why, but it’s become a habit.  I didn’t spot this challenge till late in the week so even by my standards it’s a bit late for a Sunday Post.

What am I singing?  Well, I was humming away to an old tune “Where have all the flowers gone? Long time passing”…  I don’t know if you know it, but when I got to the line “gone to graveyards everyone” I realised what a very sad song of war it is.  And that just won’t do.  So, determined to make you smile, I’m singing the Move’s “Flowers in the rain”.  Far more appropriate for many of us, I’m sure you’ll agree?

Yes, it rains in the Algarve, but it's still beautiful!

Yes, it rains in the Algarve, but it’s still beautiful!

I think I may have seen these in England, too

I think I may have seen these in England, too

It's always amazing what you can find in the hedgerows

It’s always amazing what you can find in the hedgerows

Just growing completely wild and beautiful

Just growing completely wild and beautiful

Or tamed in the landscape

Or tamed in the landscape
I found this pretty fellow shining in some bushes

I found this pretty fellow shining in some bushes

But I always love a "pop" of colour

But I always love a “pop” of colour

So we'll end in the rain. This might be the guy for me!

So we’ll end in the rain. This might just be the guy for me!

As ever, I hope you enjoyed my singing.  You’re quite lucky not to be sitting here in the front room, with me! Please give Jake a little of your time and attention.  His graphics are totally inspiring (unlike my singing).

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Thursday’s Special in Cacela Velha

Beyond the wall

Beyond the wall

There are few places more special to me than the tiny village of Cacela Velha in the Algarve.  Long before I ever came to Portugal I had read about it in the Rough Guide.   A cobbled path surrounds the church, and on a day with even the merest hint of sunshine you can sit on a bench, with your back against the church wall, and gaze dreamily out to sea.

The occasional footfall disturbs and a visitor will appear, round the corner.  Some will nod, “Bom dia!” with a trace of a smile.  Others avert their eyes or focus on the view beyond the wall.  There are two benches and sometimes the other is occupied.  A bike might be propped against the wall. There is no transport into the village.  The birds sing, and alight shyly on the wall.  All is peace and tranquillity.

The lagoon stretches as far as the eye can see

The lagoon stretches as far as the eye can see

The clouds stir and endlessly fascinate

The clouds bump and blend- endlessly fascinating

After a while I rise from the bench and walk round to the front of the church.  The carvings around the door each tell their own story.

The village is Sunday quiet, but then, it’s like that most days!  All of the activity centres on the cemetery and the bringing of fresh flowers.  But I know that this village can erupt into life.  I was there once for the Festival of Enchanted Nights.  Hookahs, Turkish tea and dancing ladies!  Can you imagine it?

Changes come, as they surely must, but I so hope that Cacela Velha hangs on to the integrity which, for me, makes it a very special place.

Wishing Paula a very special Thursday.  It’s her birthday!

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Windows on the soul

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I have a strange entry for Dawn’s Lingering look at Windows this week.  Maybe a little mournful, and not playing strictly by the rules.  But I do think that these windows are rather beautiful, and hope that you will too.

Eternal roses

Roses for eternity

Sunflowers for Fernanda

Sunflowers for Fernanda

 Simplicity for Maria

Simplicity for Maria
Lilies and colour for Joao

Lilies and colour for Joao

More roses for Rosa

More roses for Rosa

Eternal health

Eternal health

The wife of Jacinto

The wife of Jacinto

And pretty pink for Teresa

And the prettiest of pinks for Teresa
All keeping each other company

All keeping each other company

In England we have nothing like this, and I am always drawn by this expression of love.  On a Sunday afternoon, in a sleepy Algarve village, family members come and go, bringing fresh flowers and relighting candles.  I watch quietly and respectfully, and then try to capture the serenity.  Even in such a tiny village, newer members have their problems.

Reaching the top boxes is for the fit and agile

Reaching the top boxes needs a head for heights

Windows come in all shapes and sizes, don’t they?  For a very different view, visit Dawn- A Lingering look at windows-  week # 5

Quinta de Marim

The tidal mill at Quinta de Marim

The tidal mill at Quinta de Marim

This is the perfect Algarve walk when it’s too nice to be indoors, but not warm enough to sit on a beach.  Doesn’t that boardwalk call to you?  It does to me.

Quinta de Marim is part of the Ria Formosa nature reserve.  A 3 km trail leads through the pines and around the salt marshes, taking in the lovely old tidal mill en route.  The main purpose of the reserve is conservation and education.  The best option is to buy a map for a couple of euros and go at your own pace, but a guided tour is also available for advanced bookings.

No putting out to sea in this, I don't think!

No putting out to sea in this, I don’t think!

In the distance you can see the island of Armona

In the distance you can see the island of Armona

The tidal mill is the highlight of the reserve

But for me, the tidal mill is the highlight of the reserve

It sits proudly on the water

It sits proudly on the water

Looking out to sea

Looking out to sea

The views from the roof are captivating

The views from the roof are captivating

Sky and sea become one

Sky and sea blend into one

In a bird watcher's paradise

In a bird watcher’s paradise

A place where the spirit soars

A place where the spirit soars

I had never come across the concept of a tidal mill before and so was pleased that, inside the mill, display boards explain how it works.

Light floods in, illuminating the mill wheels

Light floods in, illuminating the mill stones

The ebb and flow of tide is what makes the mill work

The ebb and flow of tide is what makes the mill work

I had never seen anything quite like it before

I had never seen anything quite like it before

In season I believe the mill operates a small cafe, but it was closed when I was there.  The rest of the reserve incorporates salinas (or salt pans), a traditional farmhouse, a bird hospital and several hides for birdwatching.  Traditionally Portuguese water poodles were kept here- a special breed with webbed toes, once used in the fishing process.  These days they are most often seen in public demonstrations.

A Portuguese water poodle in action

A Portuguese water poodle in action

The reserve is close to Olhao Camping, and is signed off the E125 just before you reach Olhao, if you’re approaching from the east.

Six word Saturday

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A new look- same old me!

This is me- a little battered by time

Portugal often reminds me of myself- a little battered by time

But still hopeful of a bright tomorrow

Yet still hopeful of a bright tomorrow.

A little quirky!

A little quirky sometimes…

And often down-at-heel

And often down-at-heel!

But still full of dewy promise

Just occasionally full of dewy promise

But more often, stubborn as a mule!

But more often, stubborn as a mule!

Happy to find a nice bench to chat on

Always happy to find a nice bench to watch the world from

And a boat or two, bobbing on the water

Or even better, a couple of boats, drifting on the water

This is my new look.  I wanted something a little “cleaner” and less cluttered, but I’m not entirely happy with it.  I still hanker after “the old look” and my nice header photo.  What do you think?  It definitely needs a bit of work, and I might well revert to type. That’s me all over!

Meantime, don’t forget it’s Saturday.  Have you got six words you want to share? Cate at Show My Face will be happy to receive them.  Just click on the link or the header to join in.

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A Lingering look at windows- a little fun in week # 4

Our neighbourhood Dalmation, Louie

Our neighbourhood Dalmation, Louie

I’m feeling kind of mischievous this week.  While I was in the Algarve, I did a little spying on the neighbours.  I had to be careful though.  Some of them were looking right back at me!

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Have you spied on any windows this week?  Dawn at Lingering Visions would love to see them (and so would I).  So, why not share?

Castro Marim and the estuary

It’s an odd thing!  Castro Marim is one of the most peaceful spots I’ve ever come across.  Yet standing there, glowering, at the top of the hill, is a monumental castle.  Part of the ramparts that once surrounded the town provide wonderful contrast in the domestic scene above.

Looking out from the battlements across the broad sweep of estuary, the town of Ayamonte, on the Spanish side of the River Guadiana, looks like many another.  But as your eyes travel along the shore, you might spot the fortifications at the top of the town.  This is the pattern all along this river, a natural boundary between Portugal and Spain. Like pugilists, ready to punch and counter punch, these two nations have squared up to each other down the years.  But today, thankfully, all is peace.

The castle walls and main church of Castro Marim

The castle walls and main church of Castro Marim

Castro Marim is a sleepy place, with one ancient street that straggles up towards the castle.  The nature of the shoreline and the shifting sands of the Algarve has much to do with this.  The first settlement here was back in the Neolithic period when Castro Marim was much closer to the sea than it is now, and surrounded by shallow waters.  For thousands of years Castro Marim was a port that offered shelter to the ships that sailed up the Guadiana to collect copper from inland mines. Romans and Phoenicians settled here and such was its prosperity that Castro Marim was connected to Lisbon by a Roman road.

The castle and fortified wall that surrounded the medieval town date from the 12th century, when border disputes had become commonplace. Castro Marim subsequently became the headquarters of the Order of Christ, but went into decline when these were transferred  to Tomar in Central Portugal.  The castle fell into disrepair and was replaced by the fort of São Sebastião on a hilltop on the opposite side of town.   The shifting sands did little to help the economy.

Today tourism has found Castro Marim in a small way.  New housing surrounds the old town.  The Architectural Museum in the partly restored castle tells of a fascinating past.  But essentially the town is as self contained as ever, only rousing from its slumber each August for the Medieval Fair.

A typical townhouse

A typical townhouse

Looking across the rooftops to the town wall

Looking across the rooftops to the town wall

And down from the church steps

And down from the church steps

Gardens in the newer part of town

Gardens in the newer part of town, and the Chapel of S. Antonio

With fountains and a windmill

You may remember that I mentioned Castro Marim in A gift from the sea.  You can gaze down on the salt pans of the nature reserve from the castle walls. And if you’re really lucky, you might catch a sight of the flamingos, stretching their wings in flight.  For a better chance of seeing them, try my walk through the salt marshes.

Flamingos on the salt pans (courtesy of Mike Bradley)

Flamingos on the salt pans (courtesy of Mike Bradley)

Where to next?  Maybe a tidal mill, or we could hop across the border.  Or even join the smart set at Vale de Lobo.  But not for golf.  Come along and see.

Six word Saturday

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Home is where the heart is?

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I seem to keep leaving mine behind.  It’s a bad habit!

Who wouldn't love a place that looked like this?

Who wouldn’t love a place that looked like this?

With Nativity scenes like this

With Nativity scenes like this

And this

And this

And a pontoon bridge like this

And a pontoon bridge like this

Countryside like this

Countryside like this

Washing on a line like this

Washing on a line like this

Even with moody skies like this

Even with moody skies like this.

Or how about happy dogs on a sunset beach like this

Or how about happy dogs on a sunset beach like this

Beside the ferry, abandoned for the winter

Beside the ferry, abandoned for the Winter,

Or maybe a view like this would charm

Or maybe a view like this would charm

Views like this

Or even, like this?

I expect you can see why I keep leaving my heart behind?  Each time, I say “Goodbye little house”, with a lump in my throat.

It’s Saturday again, and six words time. Cate at Show My Face is our hostess. Would you like to play?

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“A gift from the sea”

A salt mountain, carefully harvested.

A salt mountain, carefully harvested.

One of the best things about visiting the Algarve off season is being able to take long walks.  The 12km circular of the salt pans at Castro Marim Nature Reserve was one of the highlights of my recent stay.

The sapal or salt marshes are a special feature of the Algarve.  It is one of the few areas where harvesting sea salt, begun in Roman, or even Phoenician times, continues today.  There is an art to skimming the salt crystals off before they grow big and heavy enough to sink to the bottom.  The end product is mineral rich, though needing hours of toil in the heat of Summer.  The distinctive sight of the salt pans, evaporating in the sun, always fascinates me.

I loved this landscape

The wide, flat landscape of the reserve

And suddenly, taking off across the water...

Then suddenly, a white stork takes off across the water…

Maybe to visit this nest?

Maybe, to visit this nearby nest?

The walk starts off, without too much promise, along an unsigned dirt track which doesn’t appear to lead anywhere. Olive and carob trees line the neighbouring field. In the distance, across the salt marsh, you can see the towering piles of salt and the refinery.  As you head towards them a river appears on your right.  Beyond it, in the distance, hovers the sleepy town of Castro Marim, its mighty castelo perched high on the hill.   The twin peaks of the road bridge, which crosses the River Guadiana into Spain, are barely visible.

The salt mountains beckon across the lagoon

The salt mountains beckon across the lagoon

Can you see the flamingoes in the foreground?

Can you see the flamingos in the foreground?

They were everywhere on the salt marshes

They were everywhere on the salt marshes

And seem very content to be there

Seeming to be busy, and happy to be there.

In the distance, across the river, the hilltop fortress of Castro Marim

In the distance, across the river, the hilltop fortress of Castro Marim

And just faintly you can see the bridge to Spain, across the Guadiana

And just faintly you can see the bridge to Spain, crossing the Guadiana

I’m not very knowledgeable about birds, but you can’t fail to be impressed by the quantity of them, indulging in this salt spa.  Heron, white storks, spoonbills and egrets are common sights.  The landscape seems vast, but it is not until you reach “the gate”- the entry to the saltworks- that you begin to realise just how far you are from your start point.  And to wonder how you will get back there.

The infamous "gate".

The infamous “gate”.

It's not only the flamingos that flourish here

It’s not only the flamingos that flourish here
This family of horses

This family of horses seem quite at home.

The horses are wearing bells round their necks, as were some cows we passed earlier.  Maybe, because they have young?  In 2000 hectares of salt pans, there’s a lot of wandering to be done!

According to the guide book, the next landmark is a pumping station, a far off speck on the horizon.  Arriving here is when the adventure really begins!  You turn left, into the salt pans themselves.  The book warns that you must never deviate from the track to attempt a shortcut, as many are dead ends.  If you tire and despair of making the end, you should turn around and retrace your steps.

This last section is a bit of a leap of faith, as it crosses the pans on an overgrown, narrow ridge, and does not appear to have an ending on dry land. It does, though, of course.  It feels quite surreal being out there, surrounded by water and sky.  It’s a little tricky underfoot- a mix of smooth, hardened mud and shrubs- but well worth the effort.  Nor did I want to contemplate retracing my steps, by this stage!

All seems peaceful and calm

All is peaceful and calm

And then, that magical moment when the flamingos take flight!

And then, that magical moment when the flamingos take flight!

The ultimate magic, as you pick your way around the reserve, is that moment when you approach a flock of birds.  Seemingly minding their own business in the salt pans, they obviously have one eye cocked for nare-do-wells.  Panic, or simple good sense, sends one of them into the air, and in seconds the sky is full of beating wings.  Those pallid-looking flamingos have the most glorious crimson underside to their wings, and the sight of them above me, at full stretch, is one I will never forget.

In a world where sky and water are as one.

In a world where sky and water are one

And the horizon seems far away.

And the horizon seems far away.

The book I was using was “Algarve Walks” by Julie Statham, walk no. 22.  It has been revised and reprinted a number of times and I have quite an old copy, so there may be some variation.  It’s not a difficult walk, but if you don’t fancy the last part you should retrace your steps from “the gate”.  Don’t even think about doing it in Summer- there is no cover whatsoever.  And don’t forget the bottled water!

I’ll be taking you to Castro Marim another day.  You’ll like it there!

Just one last sunset!

Sea defences softened by   sunset

Hartlepool sea defences, softened by the setting sun

All of my life I’ve been a diarist and a chronicler.  There’s nothing I like better than to tell a bit of a story.  And these days, to illustrate it with a photo or three.  How, and when, did it happen that my camera became an extension of my arm?  I don’t really know, but I do know that I love putting captions onto the images of my life.

So maybe it’s no surprise that, in blogging, I feel as if I’ve come home.  I’ve found an audience with whom I can share a smile (and the odd reflection).  I try to keep it light.  The world has enough sorrows.  But I’m happy to listen, to encourage, and to give and receive lots of hugs.  This walk around Hartlepool marina, as the sun sets, is my way of saying thank you, to all of you, for a wonderful year in your company.

I love the shape of the breakwater

I like the shape of our breakwater

Its arms stretch out in a great hug!

Its arms stretch out to the sea in a big hug!

The boatyard is gloriously backlit

The boatyard looks great, backlit by the sinking sun

And the Headland is within touching distance

And the Headland is just out of reach, in the distance.

The light just gilding St. Hilda's church

The light gently gilds St. Hilda’s church.

The boats are peaceful at their moorings

The boats are peaceful at their moorings.

But in the Hrabourmaster's Office, a surprise!

But who’s that, up by the Harbourmaster’s Office? He’s a surprise!

The boats are undisturbed by his presence

Those boats aren’t the least bit disturbed by his presence.

The deer seems to sniff the air

The deer seems to sniff the air

And then the sun goes, in a blaze of glory!

And then the sun sinks, in a blaze of glory!

This is the last Hartlepool sunset of 2013 that I’ll share with you.  On Thursday I’m up, well before the lark, and flying south to the Algarve.  Naturally the camera will be as excited as me, and we’ll do our best to bring you back some lovely images.

I hope the New Year will be kind to you, and thank you again, for sharing, and enriching, my world.