Travel

Six word Saturday

An interesting ‘Traces of the Past’?

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!

I’d rather be in… Caldas de Monchique

You might remember the camelias from my Monday walk post? I thought I should finish that lovely day off, whilst it’s still in my head.  And those darned March Squares– there’s just no getting away from them, is there?

If you drive up the N266 towards Monchique, from the coast, you will pass the sign for the thermal spa, Caldas de Monchique.  It’s easier to turn off on the way up, but be warned- you mighty dally there longer than you had planned.  You also need to like gradients, but if you just want a flavour of the place you don’t have to climb much.  Set at the bottom of a valley, it’s in a world all of its own.

Better in Spring, the season of wistfulness here on the serra, because in Summer the spa becomes a popular place.  The path drops down to the main buildings, or you can follow a series of woodland paths, in and around the boulders.  The fonte chuckles to itself and, even on a not-so-sunny day, families will be having picnics at the shady benches provided.

Caldas de Monchique was a spa even in Roman times, and was once popular with Portuguese royalty.  The springs (caldas means ‘hot’) are at a temperature of 32C, and are used as a curative for rheumatism and respiratory problems.  The water from some of the springs is bottled.

The combination of Moorish styled main buildings and more rustic dwellings, in such a setting, seems to lend an element of fairytale.  It’s one that appeals to me very much.  I hope you like it too.

The storks?  If you remember, they line the roadside on the way to Monchique.  These are just two of many.  Where would I rather be? asks Krista.  Well, it’s not a hard question, is it?

Jo’s Monday walk : Hunting camelias in Monchique

I had always thought of Monchique as rather a drab little town, despite the approach to it through beautiful countryside.  An astounding number of storks spectated from their nests along the roadside, and frolicked in the fields and orange groves.  Leaving them behind, the road climbs into the hills known as the Serra de Monchique, with their highest point 902 metres, at Foia.  Further down the slopes, I had been lured to the market town of Monchique with the promise of a Camelia Fair.

But where?  Arriving in the town around midday, all was quiet.  The Tourist Information Office was closed, and a large billboard advertised the advent of the Sausage Festival, next weekend.  Expectations lowered, but still with a glimmer of hope, for it was a day to enjoy.

Who would have anticipated the large open air pool?  What a place that must be to splash about in the Summer!  Steps led upwards, an open invitation, with the tip of a bell tower just visible, spurring me on.  Built in 16th century, the Igreja Matriz, or Mother Church, is dedicated to Nossa Senhora da Conceição, Our Lady of Conception.

The doorways are in the Manueline style, depicting images from the sea and from nature.  I step into the hushed interior, where strong pillars support the wooden ceiling.  Soft blue and gold adorns walls and alcoves.  I linger to admire the Capela do Santissimo (Chapel of the Most Holy Sacrament), the azulejos reaching high into the dome. (a lovely ‘square’ for Becky)

No sign yet of camelias but there are other distractions.  A shop offers homemade chocolates, cork products and Happy Donkey walks.  All three appeal.  The direction is definitely upwards, a discreet sign pointing to O Convento.  Escadhinas da Boa Vista promise fine views.

Around about here I get my first hint of camelias, growing nonchalantly in a tub.  And then a second pair, nodding in a ruffle of breeze.

By now I have the bit between my teeth and am in hot pursuit, but there’s that convent to explore.  Upwards I go, dangling washing lines and delectably old houses doing their best to delay me.  Already I’m high above the Igreja Matriz.  A forlorn icon looks down on me, sadly.

Little prepares me for what I will find at the top of the hill.  A small homestead adjoins the most ramshackle ruined convent you ever set foot in.  I’m beckoned forward with an eager nod from the homesteader and, very gingerly, I step up and into the ruin.  My eyes adjust to the gloom and I stare into the central courtyard.  A chicken run occupies one corner, and the small creatures scurry about, pecking busily.

The old lad waves me onward and I gaze in wonder.  Never have I stood inside a more tortured shell of a building, and yet, its spirit shines forth.

Convento de Nossa Senhora do Desterro (Our Lady of Exile), a former Franciscan convent, was founded in 1631 by Pêro da Silva, later to become a Vice-Roy of India.  According to legend he brought a small image of Our Lady, in ivory, back with him from India.  After his death it was venerated as a relic, and now resides in the hermitage of S. Sebastião down in the town.  Da Silva is thought to have been buried at the convent, and the enormous camelia that almost fills the centre of the courtyard is believed to have journeyed from India with him.

The camelias are lush and profuse, even crumpled at my feet.  As I turn to leave, the chap waves his arms to indicate that I’m not yet finished.  An adjoining room, once a refectory, has on its crumbling walls the remnants of a panel of tiles reproducing Leonardo da Vinci’s painting, The Last Supper.  Beside this, what must once have been an exquisite half tiled wall.  A solitary, poignant cross represents the Via Sacra, or Sacred Way.

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The earthquake of 1755 was largely responsible for the destruction of the convent.  Astounding to me that such treasures should languish unprotected, but access is undoubtedly an issue.  There is no charge to visit the convent, but a small contribution produced an orange and a smile from the old lad, and then it was back down the hill, more easily than the ascent.

I still hadn’t completely given up hope that there might be a camelia show somewhere, but when I finally came upon the deserted showground I had to face reality.  Maybe a piece of delicious almond tart would compensate?  But you know how strange life can be sometimes.  Strolling back to the central square, what should I find?  A whole row of planted camelia!

Many of the blooms were brown and withered at the edges, and it seems likely that the show was cancelled for this reason.  A cold spell early in the year may have caused the damage.  A pleasant sit in the sunlit square would round off my day nicely.  It’s a good vantage point for some of the expressive statuary celebrating local surgeon Dr. Humberto Messi, by sculptor Jorge Melicio.

Refreshed, it was time to drive back down the valley, stopping for a short stroll around the lovely thermal spa at Caldas de Monchique.  I think I’ll save that for another day.  I expect your feet are tired.  Pop that kettle on now and we’ll share some virtual walks.

There and back with Lisa makes this a terrific stroll :

Walkway over the Hudson

Susan’s not been around for a while, but she always makes walking a pleasure :

Walking with the Skyview

Warm this week, with Irene :

Living Desert

But Suzan reminds us of what some of us missed :

Photos with Finesse

I do try not to be envious, but Carol’s trip to the Blue Mountains is turning me green.  Twice!

From the Top to the Bottom

Thrillseekers

Amanda, meanwhile, takes us to a far less well known part of Australia :

Moore Meanderings at Linville

Jesh likes to look at the world in an arty way (and I spotted a few squares and circles in there too!)

The Movement of The City

Jackie’s having fun again, down Mexico way.  Her posts always make me so hungry :

Comida del Dia

And you really can’t beat living the good life, with Lady Lee :

Marina Bay Sands, Singapore

Or with my good friend Cathy, and her boundless energy.  Watch out for her new blog soon!

Prague: A day of wandering through Nove Mesto & Vinohrady

Drake needs lots of energy too.  He’s always busy!

Business as usual

And Eunice finally discovers a lovely piece of local history on her doorstep :

A local discovery walk

Hope you weren’t disappointed in this week’s walk.  If you’d like to join me, details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page.  Many thanks to all my lovely contributors.  Here’s wishing you a great week!

 

Six word Saturday

Beautifully square, or not so square?

That seems to be the theme of my week so far.  In case you missed it, I raised a smile with a square on Thursday.  Today I’m going for beauty.  Becky is determined to turn our March Square.  Why fight it?  And, with a little thought, you can describe it all in six words.

Have a happy weekend!

Mad March Square

It’s impossible not to be dragged into one of Becky’s challenges, isn’t it, no matter how gloomy you may be feeling?  I only wish I had a Mad March Hare, though I probably shouldn’t have said that.  Someone’s sure to come up with one.

Go on!  Take part!  It only takes a few minutes to find a March Square.

Jo’s Monday walk : Blossom and chimney pots

Feeling a little fragile as I write this- too much dancing, wine and excitement!- so please excuse me if I just stroll gently with you in the Algarve sunshine.  São Bras de Alportel makes an excellent base for walking, surrounded as it is by softly rolling countryside.  Allow me to indulge my current obsession with chimney pots…. and blossom, of course.

Starting from the former pousada, with grand views to the hills, you can follow a couple of simple trails.  Notice boards will advise what you need to be watchful for, or you can simply enjoy being there, drenched in the soft colours of Spring.

At a crossroads the sign points towards the ‘miradouro das castanhas’, the viewing point of the chestnuts.  Curiosity would have me look, but the group I’m walking with turn in the other direction.  I make a mental note to return, and patiently follow.  Minutes later we pause at a fonte- one of many underground springs in the Algarve.  A poem enhances the old stone and one of our group attempts a translation.  A squeal of laughter interrupts.  Another of the ladies has twirled the handle of the ‘nora’ (well) with a little too much energy, and is treated to a swift gush of water.

There was very little water and a lot of dry riverbeds when I walked in this area, but since then a day or three of torrential rain has brought the countryside alive again.  Flipflops or sandals and a towel may be needed.  Better still a sense of balance or a walking stick.

Rounding a hill it’s often possible to come upon a herd of sheep, with their faint air of apprehension and surprise.  Washing flutters appealingly on a line, while lemons ripen and flowers I don’t recognise make patterns on a wall.

This is cork territory and some of the trails lead beneath these gnarled beauties.  Someone has a sense of humour, but I’m not sure that I approve.  The ‘knight’, on the other hand, can only be greeted with a smile.  But I did promise you chimney pots, I remember.

Every village has it’s own variations, some crumbly with age, some new.  The village of São Romão has a lovely church and a deep sense of serenity.

It also has a a restaurant that we favour very often.  I’ll leave you with a little something sour and a sweet treat, to enjoy with your cuppa.

Excuse me for rambling this week.  I’m so looking forward to the frigid air of the north east tomorrow evening.  Please read and share the following walks, and join me with one of your own, if you’d like.  Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page.

Jude does take us to some beautiful places!  And did you spot a few circles in a square?

Garden Portrait: Stourhead

And quite often, Drake excels himself too :

Symph in green ‘n white

For those of you craving warmth, why not join Elaine in the desert?

In Search of an Oasis

Jackie always likes a large one of these!

Slice of Life

And just look what Irene’s found for us this week!

Sunny Lakefront

But this one from Ting simply has to be my walk of the week.  Don’t miss it!

Walking with Elephants

That’s it for now.  Not too many to read.  Hope you have a great week, wherever you are.

Six word Saturday

Hot stuff, to keep you warm!

I’ve never been closer to the action and the evening was all a bit of a blur.  I’m sorry that my photos can’t do it better justice but I hope that they convey a little of the heat and passion in Jerez during the Flamenco Festival.  What a show!

Debbie’s sheep has lots of hair to keep it warm.  Join her with Six Words to sum up your week?

Jo’s Monday walk : Sunkissed in Serpa

Meet Serpa!  Small town Alentejo at it’s very finest. You may think I’m leading a slothful life, induced by food, wine and intoxicating sunshine, here in the Algarve, but I do occasionally stir myself to take you somewhere special.

It’s an easy whizz up the IC27 from Castro Marim, on a switchback road of magnificent views.  Suddenly you reach the extremity of the Algarve, glide across the border and hit a narrow country road.  Straights, twists and turns, endless eucalyptus trees, nesting storks and lazy cows.  Almost no people, and often you can see for miles, beyond an isolated farmhouse.  This is rural Alentejo.  A searing hot place in Summer, but a good place to be on a sunny Spring day.  Skirting around Mertola, a right turn and gentle persistence (known as N265) will bring you to sleepy Serpa.

Don’t you love these heroically gnarled olive trees?  Following signs to the historic quarter, I note the unusual chimney pots.  Narrow streets, with deep pools of shade, cutting off the sun’s glare, are very typical of this region.

It’s always a surprise to step out of the shadows into the magnificense of Praca da Republica.  Bathed in sunlight, the grey and white loses its solemnity.  Meanwhile Cafe Alentejano dispenses food to all comers, especially when it’s lunchtime for those in the grandiose council offices.  I recline, with wine, happily adjusted to this pace of life, and then nonchalantly wander, pausing to appreciate window delights.

Steeped in history, Serpa dates back to the pre-Roman era and has, at various times, been occupied by Celts, Romans, Moors and the Spanish.  Just 30 kilometres away, Beja (known to the Romans as Pax Julia) was their southern capital of Lusitania.  Near to the Guadiana river and the border with Spain, Serpa was a defensive stronghold, belying its current peaceful nature.

Leaving the square, I’m confronted by the bell tower of a church and a mighty flight of steps.  Mounting them, I am level with the rooftops.

But the surprises don’t end there.  Turn a corner, and how about this for a castle entrance?

A nervous glance overhead and I’m into the castle forecourt and gazing around.  Plinths display remnants of gleaming stone frieze and a flight of steps leads tantalisingly aloft.  Since I was here last work has been carried out to make the castle walls more accessible (including a lift).  I climb with mounting excitement until, finally…. I can see for miles!

The castle keep was damaged  by Spanish invasion, and in 1295, following the Reconquista, King D. Dinis ordered the reconstruction of the castle and a walled fortification.  These were added to in 17th century.  I stay up there for a long time, examining each and every angle, entranced by all that I can see.  Can you spot my final destination?

Eventually the aqueduct lures me off the wall.  I can really do no better than let Becky tell you all about it.  She and her husband are enthusiasts.

My idea of a grand day out, I hope you’ve enjoyed it.  Our road home through the Alentejo was enhanced by a brief visit to Mina de S. Domingo, with it’s striking church and lakeside walks.  An adventure for another day.

It’s a stormy prospect in the Algarve this week.  Part of me hopes that it won’t disrupt tomorrow’s challenging walk, but part of me won’t mind if it does.  Becoming lazy in my old age!  Not sure if I will share a walk with you next week as I’m off to the lovely city of Jerez on Wednesday.  When I return I’ll only have a few days left in the Algarve, and plan to enjoy them.  Meantime, thanks to all my contributors.  It must be time to get that kettle on and settle in for a good read.

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Starting our walks with Anabel this week.  A little damp but lots of diversions :

Amsterdam: walking East

You could say that Jackie has a fondness for food, as well as sunshine :

Frijoles Refritos

Lady Lee loves both of those.  This is a wonderfully colourful post :

More of Singapore

It’s a white world, in Irene’s eyes, whichever way you look at it :

Opposite Sides

Something completely different from Geoff (and his Dad) :

The Old Road (with random pictures…) #dad’spoems

And from my lovely friend, Drake, who recently lost his Dad :

Cold or cool

Becky’s walk last week ended in tears, or certainly a great degree of discomfort.  Hope you’re back to normal, Robert!

Sunbathing goats, snakes and Little Owls

Staggeringly beautiful in the sunlight, join Carol, Down Under :

More than a Walk in the Park

Eunice was losing sleep over this one.  Last Drop Village sounds tempting :

A local walk in the sunshine

That’s it from me, for now.  Take good care, and join me soon for another Jo’s Monday walk!

 

Six word Saturday

Just for Sue- because she asked!

It seems that storks, like my good friend Sue, don’t mind a spot of dereliction.   This wouldn’t be my chosen residence, but they do have a good view from up there, out across the River Guadiana to Spain.  There’s not a great deal of respect for these poor, forlorn warehouses, often fallen victim to street art, like these below, in Tavira.

Most of my week has been cloudless.  Hope you can say the same.  In six words please.