Travel

Old Quarteira meets new

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?

Linking this to Becky’s Past meets Present.  I hope she likes it.

Six word Saturday

From one little angel, to another?

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!

Escaping the rain

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?

Jo’s Monday walk : A soggy ending, in an Alcazar

“Is the weather always like this?”, I asked the smiling receptionist, as I shook the drips from my hood.  “Never!”, she replied, with an adamant shake of the head.  My lucky day, then.  But there was no other option, as I was determined to see the Alcazar of Jerez, and soon we would be homeward bound.  The video playing in the background displayed wall to wall sunshine.  Salt in the wounds, but it was a magnificent sight.  ‘Alcazar’ derives from the Arab word al-qasr, meaning a group of buildings, surrounded by walls, used both as a fortress and a palace.  Built in the 12th century, this was the seat of political and military power ruling the city.

A sprint across the courtyard brought me to the shelter of the mosque, or mesquita, the only one still to exist from the 18 of the Islamic city.  Dating from 12th century, it has all the usual elements- the minaret, for calling the faithful to prayer, and an ablutions courtyard with central fountain for purification before entering the prayer room, itself presided over by the Mihrab, a small niche in the wall facing Mecca.

Tucked within the walls, the biggest olive press I ever saw.  The oil mill was added in the 18th century, when growing olive trees was of great commercial importance to Jerez and the surrounding countryside.

Swiftly crossing the Parade Ground, where military formations were once assembled and reviewed, I beheld the sorry sight of the drowning garden.

Beyond it the Royal Pavilion, designed for reclining beside the pool, and the Octagonal Tower.    Part of the original Islamic fortress, situated at its highest point, it makes a superb watchtower.  And you know that, weather or no, I was going up there.

Happily I’m not the only one with a careless disregard for the weather.  Climbing the tower behind me, a Frenchman declares that all is simply ‘magnifique’.  We agree that in bright sunshine we’d have to share it with many others.  From the tower you can see the scale of the Alcazar, the walls originally 4 kilometres long.  An area under excavation dates back to the 10th century.  It includes a pottery kiln , water wheel and reservoir.

However exhilarating the views, rain dripping off your nose can become tiresome, and I was not sorry to scurry back across the courtyard to the palace.  In 1664 Lorenzo Fernandez de Villavicencio inherited the Alcazar.  He undertook much restoration work, including this beautiful piece of baroque, over the ruins of the old Islamic palace.

A dark wood staircase and superbly carved doorway dominate the space.  Lofty rooms filled with beautiful pieces.  And the ‘piece de resistance’, a remarkable pharmacy, with carved original wooden shelving, flasks and jars.

A Camera Obscura on the top floor of the palace seemed like a bad idea in such murky weather.  The Hammam, or Arab Baths, might have been a better experience.  In the event, I slipped back out, past the still smiling receptionist.

That concludes my couple of days in Jerez.  This Andalusian city has neither the grandeur of Granada nor the unique beauty of Cordoba, but it has a charm and character all of its own.  I enjoyed it very much, and I hope that you did too.

With Easter behind us, I hope you’ll take time to read the walks I’m sharing this week.  Many thanks to all my contributors and to those who just enjoy a bit of a ramble.  Please join me at any time with a walk of your own.  Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page.  Kettle on, and let’s go!

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Spectacular scenery from Pauline to start us off this week :

Waterfall walk

It’s not everybody who can take a walk without talking.  Enjoy the peace, with lovely Meg!

Wordless walk: 1080 to Tilba Headland

And if you want to share some knowledge too… :

Never the same place twice : Pooles to 1080

Naughty George and adorable Flora accompany Gilly along the canal.  Watch out, ducks!

Beside the Grand Western

Suzanne is a housesitter who likes to get about a bit.  Join her in Turkey :

Neighbourhood Walks – Iztuzu Beach & more

Fabulous falls in a gush of swirling water, from Drake.  Must be all that rain!

Falling water

Sunshine after the rain.  Thanks, Irene!

Ended in Sunshine

And just a reminder, in case you needed it.  Magical snow in NYC, with Susan :

The Magic of New York City : Central Park in the Snow

Not actually a walk but it’s walk related.  Thanks for sharing, Denzil :

23 Ways Hiking Makes you Healthier

And a gentleman hiker I discovered at Denzil’s place.  Meet Guidowke with an interesting look at Belgium :

GR5AZ Rupelmonde – Branst

Or travel through history with David in a beautifully peaceful French village :

Village of Azincourt

What will I do when Jude runs out of Garden Portraits?  Give up blogging, I suspect :

Garden Portrait : Dunster Secret Garden

We drove home from Jerez in tumultuous rain, crashing against the windscreen, that old adage ‘the rain in Spain…’ drumming in our ears.  And now, on an English Bank Holiday Monday, it’s much the same.  Stay dry, and cheerful, this week, won’t you?

Six word Saturday

Determined to finish what I started!

No, seriously!  I need to finish sharing my visit to Jerez.  The Cathedral is magnificent.  Originally a Collegiate Church, it wasn’t granted cathedral status until 1980, by the grace of Pope John Paul II, though the church itself dates back to the Christian conquest of Jerez, on 9th October, 1264.  Briefly the sky was blue, but I was eager to see inside.

Just inside the mighty portal, I was surprised to find a model of an industrious looking Jerez, and close by, not so surprisingly, an altar to John Paul.

There was a wealth of beauty wherever you looked, the cathedral extending theatrically in a sequence of rooms behind the main altar.

My only disappointment was climbing the tower.  I never can resist, but the spiral staircase led only to a grilled window, with a limited view.

Slightly more than my allotted Six Words, I agree, but I do hope Debbie finds this Joyful.  Wishing you all a blessed and happy Easter.  And, heaven’s above, Becky’s March Square is finally over!  Let’s eat cake!

My Place in Tavira

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.

Jo’s Monday walk : A rainy day in Jerez

Today I’ve got my map out, and am trying to make some sense of my collection of photos of Jerez.  Not always easy when you’re a ‘follow your nose, snap everything that catches your eye’ sort of person.  We were staying very centrally, in the historic quarter, and initially I thought this a poor choice.  Especially as we rounded a corner, to a row of houses propped up with giant sleepers, almost next door to our hotel.  Just how safe, and how scenic, was our ‘close to the cathedral’ accommodation going to be?  But I needn’t have worried.  La Fonda Barranco was warm and welcoming, and perfectly placed.  History was right on the doorstep, even if some of it did need a little shoring up.

As always, it was a case of orientating oneself, something I’m not especially good at.  I’ve usually just about got the hang of a place when it’s time to move on.  But I can tell you that we had a superb Ayuntamiento, and the stunning cathedral at our backs, along with a small army of sherry bodegas.  A myriad of narrow streets encouraged wandering, with seemingly an equal number of churches.

The hues are all beige, citrus lemon and ochre.  In Plaza del Arroyo, just around the corner from our hotel, I was already dumbfounded by the architecture, a crick in my neck as I gazed upwards at the elaborate twists and curves.

You might remember from my previous Jerez post, we arrived on Andalusia Day.  Entry to the museums was free, and we sought shelter from wind and rain in the Flamenco Museum.  Filled with art and music, the arresting courtyard at its heart is a shining example of many that I saw in Jerez.

Back on the glistening streets, it wasn’t long before we had to seek shelter again, this time in a most convenient cake shop.  Naturally!

There are always compensations.  We were caught out in the rain numerous times, resulting in a second visit to that cake shop.  The skylight at the rear of the cafe was leaking copious quantities into strategically placed buckets.  Undaunted, we tackled more cake!

More wandering brought us to the Santiago quarter, well known for its flamenco.  The ravaged umbrella dangling from a dustbin summed the weather up succinctly.  The Clock Museum would have provided an hour’s dalliance, with multiple tick-tocking, but the timed visits were for mornings only.  We’d missed the last performance at 13.15 so, with a wistful look at the grounds, we settled for an atmospheric bodega nearby.  I did stop to wonder who kept the heroic looking warrior supplied with crocosmia.

I could quite easily have entitled this post ‘Lost in Jerez’.  We had a tendency to make a 20 minute walk take an hour, but Jerez is a muddle of fascinating, if sometimes scruffy, streets.  The weather definitely played its part.  A Lonely Planet recommend had us seeking sanctuary in the church of San Miguel, where the huge wooden doors rattled as the wind howled outside.  Built during the 15th and the 18th centuries, its altarpiece, the work of Martinez Montanes, is among the most important works of the Golden Age of Seville.

A drum roll now for a sequence of March Squares, for Becky.  They should take me to the end of her challenge.  The Tinotto de Cielo, with a nod to sherry trifle, was particularly delicious.  The interesting menu at La Cruz Blanco included very tasty shrimp fritters and seafood lasagne too.

I still have the cathedral and the beautiful Alcazar to show you but they’ll keep, for the moment.  It’s time to put the kettle on, so you can settle down to read this week’s shares.

Many thanks to all of you who read and contribute to Jo’s Monday walk  It’s very much appreciated.  You’re welcome to join me any time.

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Almost certainly a step too far for most of you, but there are some beautiful photos here, from Arundhati :

How to turn One of Britain’s Best Walks into an Adventure

You don’t need photos so much as a little imagination, to walk alongside Susan :

Walking the “Sea Glass Festival”

And if you like a good time you can’t do better than to accompany Lady Lee :

Lovely weekend in Dusseldorf

Geoff has chosen to share a last bit of snow (I hope so!)  Keeping mine to myself :

Snow Doubt About It

We had joy, we had fun, we had… snowtime, with Drake :

Season in the sun

Eunice finds sunshine too.  And happy ducks!

A dog walk to Turton Tower

Smiling with Irene!  Reminds me of a Chuck Berry song, but that’s showing my age :

No place to go

Pauline is a lovely lady who likes to chat.  Wouldn’t you love to walk beside her!

Sonder…

And talking of lovely ladies, here’s another of my favourites.  Eloquence and history always mingle with Tish :

The Little Church By The Sea

Jude produces yet another garden from her bottomless archives!  Her flower galleries are exquisite :

Garden Portrait: Hergest Croft

And Carol dazzles with a beautiful display of abundance :

Two Gardens

That’s it for now!  I don’t have an Easter plan at present, and the weather looks uncertain at best.  Hopefully I’ll still be here with a Monday walk.

 

 

 

 

 

Six word Saturday

A place to go back to?

I think so.  Wouldn’t you?  Do you have a Favourite Place asks Cheri in this week’s Daily Post Challenge.  This is mine.  The Eastern Algarve.

Have yourself a beautiful weekend and visit Debbie with Six Words.

Jerez de la Frontera, Spain

What is it that draws you to a place?  It’s a good question that Cathy asks on her new blog, Wanderessence and one that I can’t resist answering.  I’m going to start with my most recent visit to a ‘new’ place, Jerez de la Frontera, but I will be returning to this challenge.

Drama and passion are two of the things that brought me to Jerez.  I’m sure I must have gypsy blood somewhere in the ancestry.  The rhythmic stamp of that foot and the proud arch of the neck has me on the edge of my seat, breathing suspended, totally in the moment.  Who wouldn’t travel for this?  Andalusia Day in Jerez, during the Festival of Flamenco.  All was quiet in the city as we arrived on this National Holiday.  Until we stumbled, by accident, into the Centro Cultural Flamenco Don Antonio Chacon, in search of food.  Five deep at the tiny bar, half of Jerez were assembled to watch the show, all chattering like magpies.  A hush fell as the artist took to the stage.  Looking out into the packed hall, he claimed his audience, all eyes upon him.  And then… the passion ignites!

Our lovely host, Alejandro, at La Fonda Barranco, said that he had guests returning year on year to take part in the festival.  And to sample the sherry, of course.  No visit to Jerez would be complete without tasting two or three.  Sherish (Xères) was the Arab name for this city, founded by the Phoenicians three thousand years ago.  The warm climate, with both easterly and westerly winds and soil that was once covered by the ocean, produces sherry, a unique, inimitable wine.  Manzanilla, Fino, Amontillado, Oloroso, Palo Cortado, sweet Pedro Ximenez… so many choices!

Something else unique to the city had drawn me here.  The Royal Andalusian School of Equestrian Art trains horses from the age of three, and riders, to perform advanced dressage and Spanish horse riding, country style.  The culmination of their training is the show ‘How Andalusian Horses Dance’.  Performed to classical music, and to a packed house, this is pure equestrian ballet.  Beautifully groomed and beribboned, the horses demonstrate rhythmic trotting and the ‘Spanish walk’.  They twirl, leap and balance on hind legs, all in complete unison with their rider.

Photographs, understandably, were not permitted but I can share a little of the atmosphere and excitement in this video, which shows the beautiful palace and grounds as well as the arena.  I don’t think it would be out of place in a fairy tale.

This is only a small part of my Jerez story.  There’s a mighty cathedral, beautiful churches, bodegas aplenty, distinctive architecture and wonderful food.  I can’t wait to show you my sherry trifle!  But first it’s your turn to share.  What is it that draws you to a place?  Cathy would love to know.

Jo’s Monday walk : Among the fisherfolk

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!

Garden Portrait : Powis Castle

Closely followed in the happiness stakes by Drake :

Procession of Joy

And this one from Emma, just because I like it.  We share fond memories of Tenby :

Waiting for the Tide

Robin has a nice touch too.  Not too far from my doorstep :

The Cross

Back to basics, with Jackie :

What’s cooking?

Never heard of this place, but Lady Lee is very well-traveled :

Sihanoukville, Cambodia

Less exotic, but very nicely presented by Anabel :

A stroll round Lanark

And here’s Shazza, on the hunt for Spring.  I do hope she finds it soon!

Searching for signs of Spring

But fairies would do very nicely.  Lots of rich detail in this, from Theresa :

Following a river to a Fairy Glen

Can you believe I’ve never been to Rome?  Never mind- Jaspa can show us the ropes :

Wandering Rome, The Eternal City, at Night

Not so far away, Cathy has one last romp on ‘In search of a thousand cafes’ :

Our last day in Prague : old town & the Jewish Quarter

And Denzil finds much to give pleasure in the city of Antwerp.  Check out the escalators!

How to spend a day in Antwerps’s historic centre

Meanwhile, Pauline does a fabulous job of capturing the wild waves :

Cyclone Linda whips up the waves

And Becky does a fair job on remembering the names of flowers.  Much better than me!

The art of flowers

I’ve joined Candy on her explorations before.  You should enjoy this one :

Castelo Branco

Recently featured in Inntravel’s ‘Slow Lane’, meet Luke and Nell, in this part of the world that I love :

Rota Vicentina/2/Finding the Fisherman’s Way

And finally, Carol takes us caving.  There are some beautiful shots here!

Hidden Beneath

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!