Most of the UK will have their share of blueness this weekend. I’m just contributing a little more. It was actually a cool, damp day in the Algarve when I wandered into the museum and church of Igreja da Misericordia de Tavira. I had the place entirely to myself and spent a very pleasant hour browsing. I’d say that the pretty blue ceramic tiles, azulejos, are Prolific in Portugal, wouldn’t you?
Enjoy whatever blue skies and sunshine come your way, but don’t forget to share Six Words with Debbie. You may be bamboozled!
In the midst of packing, and abysmal English weather, I pause to look back at what I have to look forward to. One of these images might get me into trouble when I return. My very last day, when the dry river beds weren’t, but the company was good.
I hope Spring has sprung for you. Wishing you all a wonderful weekend! Let’s get straight to the point with Debbie and her Six Words.
This isn’t a walk so much as an amble into the sunny Portuguese countryside, but with the potential for a great deal more. Furnazinhas is a small village, sometimes used for an overnight stay, at the eastern end of the Via Algarviana. The whole walk runs from Alcoutim on the River Guadiana, the border with Spain, all the way to Cabo S. Vicente on the west coast. You can break it down into stages, whilst taking in some of the Algarve’s most picturesque scenery. Furnazinhas is a tranquil and lovely place to stay. There’s a sense that time has passed the place right by.
It’s a small village and, arriving by car, we passed swiftly through it, then parked alongside the narrow roadside and walked back in. It was one of those days that wasn’t going to plan. I had tried and failed to join an exercise class in Tavira that morning, and plans to join Becky and Robert for lunch had fallen through. The sun was shining brightly, so I tucked my pet lip away, and we headed for the hills. My husband was convinced that the village would be a disappointment too, so I was wearing flip flops and intending to go to the beach afterwards. For once, he was totally wrong.
Some places just speak to you immediately, don’t they? As we strolled into the village, absorbing the silence, this sleepy little place was already getting under our skin. Almost our first sighting was the signpost pointing out the PR10. A stone slabbed lane led off through the village towards the hills beyond. The realisation dawned that I needed my hiking boots to do this place justice. Or at the very least, trainers.
We stopped to examine a map, and realised that we could have had two choices. The PR9 was a circular 7.7km route, with a variety of ups and downs, while PR10 was a linear and flatter 7.8km, and a part of the Via Algarviana. Unable to sensibly follow either, I determined to explore as much as I could of the village. An elderly gentleman, seeing our interest, seemed happy to chat. Before much longer he was leading us across the road, to his father’s former stables.
What a lovely surprise! First he showed us the house where he and his wife live, when they don’t have guests for the Summer. Then he unlocked the door of the smaller house opposite. Steps lead down into a beautiful dining room, with a bedroom sleeping 4 above. The old stone walls and ceilings of wood and bamboo give the place wonderful character, while spanking new bathrooms wouldn’t be out of place in a glossy magazine. A small kitchen sits at the rear of the property, with barbecue looking onto an expanse of garden. It had so much charm, I couldn’t stop smiling.
He explained that he’d worked in Faro until his retirement, but now he liked the peace and quiet of the countryside. Who could blame him? He said with a smile that he could always pop back to the city if he needed a bit more ‘life’. Meanwhile Casa do Lavrador, the conversion of his Dad’s place, seemed to provide him with contentment and a living.
Having walked as far as I could through the village, I crossed over to explore the back streets of the opposite side. An old lad, on a disability scooter, looked rather incongruous as he performed circuits, nodding at us as he passed. A couple, deep in conversation on a doorstep, looked up, but scarcely paused to draw breath. I was starting to feel hungry. In the garden of a house set back from the street, a couple of gents were busy tucking in. I could see no sign to indicate a restaurant, but it might well have been.
Like most Portuguese villages, there were signs of abandonment. The young have to leave home to find work, and not everyone wants to return. Terraces of crops and trees lined the fields behind the village. Somebody had been hard at work.
I expect you’ve guessed that I’ll be going back, equipped with water and some proper shoes. We may even rent the cottage and relish the peaceful life for a few days. If that’s something you’d like to do, Casa do Lavrador is a Turismo Rural, and the phone number is +351 281 495 748.
The Via Algarviana stretches for 300km across the Algarve. The website includes details of the trail, places to stay and a very seductive video.
Something to think about for the future? I hope you’ll join me next time.
Many thanks to all you lovely people who follow me, and especially if you’ve shared a walk. Please find time to read and share. You can put the kettle on first, if you like. I’ll wait.
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Join Drake in the desert? He always makes such excellent company :
That’s it for another week. I think I’ll be back to sharing an English walk next Monday. My Jo’s Monday walk page will tell you how to join in. Please do!
Quarteira is one of our ‘go to’ places for a lazy stroll. It’s a bit of an anachronism, with high rise hotels and apartments dominating the seafront. Stroll along the lengthy promenade in one direction and you come to the Fish Market, with a little harbour beyond. The ‘smart’ resort of Vilamoura is on the horizon. High rise of a finer calibre. Stroll back the way, and where the promenade ends you have a wonderful expanse of beach. This way lies Vale de Lobo, and the truly ‘smart’ set. I don’t really belong in either, but I don’t mind to take a look, now and then. I rather liked the exhibition of fishermen, erected by the sea.
But the real purpose of today’s post is to share with you a little of what Quarteira was, ‘back then’, before the developers arrived. A series of signboards have been placed along the front, flashbacks to the 60s, and I found them fascinating.
The backs of the signs indicate their situation on the seafront. I haven’t kept to order, nor have I included all of them. A couple I find particularly poignant. Life wasn’t easy back then.
I don’t know how much of the small print you can read, but one of them tells of the ‘Vestigios Romanos’. Offshore the remains of a Roman settlement were found. Now that’s antiquity! But let’s end with a smile. Wednesday’s are market days and I have a fondness for the cheese stalls. This character was peddling his wares. Salad, anyone?
I’ve had this sweet little Smile in my head ever since I saw Ben’s fun Weekly Photo Challenge. I squared her for Becky’s March challenge but somehow she never managed to slip in. I hope you’re all smiling this weekend. If not, go and see Debbie’s Six Words!
Time to kick back and have a little fun in my life. I don’t know about you but I’m tired of all this rain. And I haven’t shared with Paula in the longest time. I really loved the elegant lady in her Black & White Sunday, After and Before. I thought I’d share my husband. Discreetly, of course.
He always complains that I only ever show his back in my photos. Perhaps he’ll like this better?
Sometimes words tumble around in your head, eager to evade the paper. I’ve been following Cathy’s latest venture over at Wanderessence with interest, as she evokes a stream of memories. Some of you may already know that I plan to move to the Algarve, in Portugal, this year. Estate agents are almost at my door, the spur I need to start sorting through almost 30 years of squirreling stuff away. What can I not bear to part with?
Sifting through a pile of photos, mostly of Dad and my Polish family, I pull out a couple of battered exercise books. Evidence that I had tried to learn both Polish and Portuguese, unsuccessfully, I might add. Several of the pages were loose, and came away in my hand. I began to read…. not grammar at all, but the story of my early days in the Algarve. It all came flooding back.
What is it that draws you to a place, asks Cathy? She suggests that you keep a detailed diary to help you reminisce. The pages I had stumbled upon took me back to 2004. Our immaculate navy blue and white, new bathroom had plumbing problems and had to be bashed about to resolve them. The whole street seemed to shudder and shake as our bathroom was ‘mended’. It was an agony to listen, so we escaped while sanity was restored.
The previous October we had taken a one week holiday in Vilamoura and done a little scouting around. I’d never been to Portugal before, but had liked the sound of Tavira. A ruined castle overlooking the river, and a ferry to take you out to the beach. Could it be as nice as it sounded? Autumn that year was a little mischievous, but the patches of blue in the sky made up for the puddles of rain in the streets. I lost my heart, right there and then.
February 2004 saw us return for a couple of days, to finalise a sale and rush around buying a few basics. A bed and some yellow canvas deck chairs came first, I recall. The plates, we brought with us from England, that April, our first proper visit to our home. The excitement of first outings and purchases! A trip to Faro to buy an acoustic guitar, regarded as an ‘essential’ by our son. The soft magic of the ilha. And later, in July, a blow-up dinghy which gave such pleasure, as he and a mate paddled across there. My heart was often in my mouth as a ferry chugged a little close, but they would emerge spluttering and teasing each other. A repair kit seldom fixed the leaks for long.
The memories crowd in, one tripping over the next. The joy of Summer fairs, paper flowers bedecking the bandstand. Our first drive into the Algarve countryside, enthralled by the greenery and the rolling hills. Balmy evenings by the riverside. Azulejos, of course! The pride in showing visitors all of our wonderful discoveries. That never ending blue sky and sea. Sunsets on the roof.
Fourteen years later, many things have changed, but our love for Tavira remains undiminished. Neighbours have come and gone. Our favourite cafe, Anazu, is now just a memory. The garden we started so optimistically has fallen victim to the weather. It’s time to move out there and give it the nurturing it deserves. I hope I’ve given you a sense of the place, and what draws me back. Many thanks to Cathy and her legion of ideas on how to enhance the travel experience. Please pay her a visit.
I was all set to take you castanet rattling in Jerez today, but we had a strenuous week last week, didn’t we? I thought a gentle amble round the latest addition to Olhão’s street art might be a better option. Truth be told, I could easily have missed these, if it hadn’t been for Becky. What would I do without her? A mine of information, she saves me hours of research. Murals with memories of the city gives details of the artists and how they came to work on this very engaging project.
Images of the sea always appeal to me, but the detail and realism of these bring them alive. They were taken from a set of photos of life as it was in the canning and fishing industry in Olhão, giving them authenticity and vibrance. While he was working, a lady asked to have a photo taken with the artist Pedro ‘Mistik’. Her mother was featured in his painting and she had the original photograph at home. I wonder if she was one of these?
The serious lady, or the one with the lively face? Might she stand out in a crowd, or perhaps, be a supervisor?
What a source of pride the murals must be for the older inhabitants of Olhão! The women, and their menfolk. And their dogs, of course!
And then there’s the iconic fish market, where the catch is sold. Close by, the lads still mend their nets.
But the days of the cannery are forever changed, wonderfully portrayed in all these capsules of time.
Four artists combined to create the work, bringing a new lease of life to these derelict buildings in Largo and Rua de Fábrica Velha. The faces are so full of character, telling their individual stories. They enthrall me.
It’s highly appropriate that the murals are close to Becky’s favourite fish restaurant in Olhão, Vai e Volta. We haven’t really done enough walking to merit a meal, but they are only open for lunch, so we’d better pop in now and stroll a little later. And no, that’s not my cake. Blame Robert today!
I defy you not to be full when you come out. And then a wander through Olhão’s atmospheric back streets just might reveal a March Square or two?
Five, I counted. Thanks so much, Becky, for providing fun and hospitality, as well as all those facts.
As the lights go down on Olhão, I have heaps of walks to share this week. Please find time to visit, especially if it’s someone you don’t know. You’ll find some great reads. I hope you’ve got that kettle on for a cuppa?
Pride of place, as promised, and a delight for you all! Thanks, Jude!
That’s it from the wintry north east of England. Hope you enjoyed it and many thanks to those of you who took part. Join me any time on Jo’s Monday walks. You’ll be very welcome. Have a great week!
Rather special to find the photographic studio of a former war correspondent in Angola on Tavira’s Rua da Liberdade. Luis Andrade studied film making and photography, as well as journalism, and you can find 4 generations of photography in the tiny museum above the shop. Read all about the family business here. The museum is a photographic history of Tavira and I found it fascinating.
I also thought it might appeal to Paula, even though her Traces of the Past is intended to be in full colour this week. Tavira under snow is a rare sight. Talking of snow, I’m keeping my fingers crossed this weekend. We’ve had hailstones this morning. Enough of Siberia!
Bring on Spring, and share your six words with Debbie! Happy weekend!
restlessjo 
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