Six word Saturday

Random moments from an Algarve week

Fonte Pequena (little fountain) at Alte

It had just bounced with rain and the bottle brush plant was sodden.

The Folklore Festival and Wedding Ceremony at Alte

 Then there’s one that would fit well in my recent post on “fontes”.

The fountain in Praca da Republica, Tavira

And an item that I was much taken with.  More to come in a future post.

The Tavira vase, on display in the new Islamic Museum

Then my little side trip with Flat Ruthie.

The village of Sanlucar de Guadiana, on the Spanish side of the Spain/Portugal border

A handsome caballero

Keeping watch over the Guadiana

Tangled in the orange blossom in Castro Marim

So now you know how I spent my week.  It was wonderful looking back and now it’s your turn.  To play Six word Saturday you need to visit Cate’s Show My Face so click on the link or the banner at the top of this page, and get started.  My Six word Saturday page will show you what I’ve been up to in the past.  Feel free to browse.  See you next week.

A day with Flat Ruthie in Portugal and Spain

Who better than Flat Ruthie, with her keen observational skills, to accompany me on a short foray across the border?  For a number of years the snow white village of Sanlucar de Guadiana has been calling to me, across the still waters of the Guadiana.  The village of Alcoutim, on the Portuguese side, is blessedly peaceful, but I always wanted to look back at it.  Mission accomplished!  With a little help.

Alcoutim, with a little help from a friend

Just minutes later the breeze caught her and she’d fallen out of a tree!  She was gallantly rescued from the rocks by my husband, looking daggers at me.  It’s a good job a Flat doesn’t bruise easily.  Maybe a beach umbrella would be a better option?  Softer landings, anyway.

Johanna, am I quite safe here? And by the way, it prickles!

Into my pocket she went, just for a little while, so we could have a proper look around, without her blowing away.

Such a delightfully pretty place

Can I be in this one, Jo please? I just love castles.

Just a minute- what’s happening here?

Ah, now I understand. It’s a festival!

We chatted to a lovely local lady who explained that the village of Sanlucar and the village higher up the hill. El Granado, compete in a yearly festival.  The procession would be lead up the hill by the mayor, with a floral cross and a donkey, to a meeting place, where the fun would begin.  What luck!  I hadn’t known anything about it.

In all their finery.

Such a patient donkey! And such lovely little boys.

Side saddle and very elegant

Incognito?

Take me with you!

And then they were gone, and our lovely villager was heading off to get changed to join in the fun herself.  The village was effectively closed to business.  We waved to the ferryman and crossed back to Alcoutim, where we sat with a drink and watched as the procession slowly mounted the hill.

The riverside cafe at Alcoutim

Of course, Flat Ruthie wanted to see another castle and flirt with the fountains a little, but that was fine by me.

New fountains at Alcoutim

Castro Marim main square with church and castle

The orange blossom is choking me!

A drink before we climb those steps? Is my foot stuck?

But it wasn’t!  The funny thing was that we had gone to Castro Marim expecting a festival to be taking place, and with the promise of an Algarvian goat contest.  The place was quiet as can be.  Reading the leaflet later, my husband pointed out that the festivities were actually taking place in a village called Azinhal, “near to” Castro Marim.  Ah well- something for another trip.  All’s well that ends well.

Many thanks Big Ruth for loaning me your little gal, and for your wonderful idea.  To join in and read Flat Ruthie’s other adventures, you should contact Cardboard Me Travels.  She even ventures to Hartlepool marina you know.

D is for Dobry (good)

The village of Poronin, on the way to Zakopane, Tatry Mountains

Dzień dobry  (good day or good morning) must have been the first piece of Polish I ever learned.  At the time I didn’t think about it too literally, being more concerned with how to say it. (dz is pronounced like the ds in odds, according to my text book)

It wasn’t until I came to say “good evening”- dobry wieczór– that I realised the significance of dobry, meaning “good”.   You have also dobranoc- “goodnight”.  Noc is night (pronounce the c as ts) and dobra is the feminine form of dobry.

Język polski, the Polish language, is Latin based and I knew I was starting to struggle when I came to do widzenia- “goodbye”.

From the text book:   dobry = masculine, dobra = feminine and dobre = neuter

So : dobry hotel (m), dobra książka (f) and dobre mieszkanie (n)

Good hotel, good book and good flat

In conversation, I kept hearing dobrze and dobra, appearing to mean “good” as in “ok” or “alright” but hadn’t a clue when to use which.  You’ve realised by now that I do a lot of head nodding and smiling, with a bemused expression, when in Poland.

Just to prove that I have applied myself a little, I thought it would be fun to do a Polish question and answer exercise, using photographs.

Co to jest? (What is this?)  To jest moja rodzina (This is my family)

Only a small portion of them, you understand!  Lynne and George, who live in Canada, were visiting the Tatry Mountains with us for the occasion of Adam and Marta’s Silver Wedding.  Arek is having a little fun with Lynne’s heavy handbag, containing the camcorder (out of shot).

Co to jest? (What is this?)  To jest Balon Widokowy (This is a hot air balloon- literally a “balloon with a view”

On the same holiday, Adam was keen for us all to take a ride in the Balon, soaring over Kraków from the banks of the River Vistula.

Co to jest?  To jest kościół (This is a church)

Older churches are very beautiful in Poland.  This one is similar in style to the one in Poronin where Adam and Marta reaffirmed their wedding vows.

Kto to jest? (Who is this?- spot the change?)  To jest Irena, moja kuzynka (This is Irena, my cousin)

I’m not going to get grammatical here.  Irena is my lovely cousin and the wife of Arek, who was clowning around in the group photo earlier.  They have two great youngsters, Robert and Weronika, and this is taken on their patio in Bełchatów.  Arek runs a market garden and they have a shop to sell the produce and seeds in the town market.  The handsome stranger is, of course, my Dad.  Click here to read his wonderful story.

Kto to jest?  To jest Jadwiga, moja kuzynka (Jadzia)

Me, Dad and Jadzia in her garden in Zawady.  I really am spoilt for lovely cousins.  Jadwiga and husband Andrzej have a daughter Ania and son Krzysztof.  Ania and her husband Hubert have a lively toddler Kinga, and their own self-contained flat in Jadzia’s home.  Krzysztof works in Reading with his wife Marzena.  We attended both of their weddings.

I guess it’s appropriate that Dad is heading back to Poland today and will see all of these and more.

I can’t complete this post without referring to my cousin, Dominik.  When I was considering the options for “D” he was heavily on my mind.  He died recently in tragic circumstances, still a young man, and his loss is heavily felt by the family.  Dad will be going to the cemetery to pay his respects, to Dominik and to all of the family who have gone before.

To end on a lighter note, has anyone told you about Polish cake, ciastko?  I need to say only that it is bardzo dobry– very good.  Bardzo dobry indeed.  Dad will be eating lots!

Polish cake. This is shop bought. The homemade variety is even more delicious.

Googling “dobry” (as you do?) I came across an artificially intelligent “chatbot” of the same name.  I could download him and just natter away, or even teach him simple foreign phrases.  I ask you- does that seem probable?  He’d be sure to prove more intelligent than me.

This post forms part of my personal A-Z of Poland, inspired by Julie Dawn Fox.  Follow the link, or click on the banner below, to read some very interesting posts from all around the world.  I may be late with my responses to any of you who are kind enough to read this, as I’m out of circulation for a week or so, but I will assuredly be back.  I just had to post it now because it was churning inside me.

Six word Saturday

Seeking new memories, in the Algarve

Castle walls, Lagos

Old harbour, Lagos

Mertola

Over the garden wall, Mertola

Another fountain candidate? Silves

Pego do Inferno

Cascades nearby Pego do Inferno

Grab a table at Mesa do Cume

Palace gardens, Estoi

Look, but don't touch! Vilamoura

Waterside at Cabanas

Easy to see why I keep going back, isn’t it?  I’ll be in the Algarve next week, making new memories to share, so I’ll miss the next Six week Saturday.  Why not join in with Cate?  Everybody’s got a story to share.  Follow the link to see what it’s all about.  You can click on the button below to see my previous posts, and I’ll look forward to seeing yours.

F is for Fonte (fountain or spring)

Fonte in Largo do Carmo, Lisbon- from Wikipedia, by Rui Pedro Carvalho

There is an astonishing array of beautiful fountains adorning Portuguese towns and villages. Here are just a few I can’t resist sharing.

Fonte de Toural, Guimaraes- from Wikipedia,

Fonte do Idolo, Braga- Nabia, goddess of rivers and water- from Wikipedia

Fonte de Agua Ferreas, Braga- from Wikipedia

Fonte da Rua de Bonjoia- from Wikipedia, by Antonio Amen

Fonte de Leoes (lions), Porto- from Wikipedia, by da Sousa

Fonte de Sao Bento, Corticeiro de Carapelhos, Mira- from Wikipedia, by Jose Olgon

Azulejo, Fonte de Sao Bento

Fonte do Rossio, Lisbon- Creative Commons

Varied aren’t they?  There are hundreds I could have shared.  Do you have a favourite?  I think probably the last one’s mine, but I love Nabia too.  I also came across the term “chafariz” in relation to fountains and am not sure if this refers to a specific type.  Maybe my Portuguese friends can help me out with this?

The word “fonte” appears in many place names in Portugal.  In fact, when we’re directing people to our home in Tavira, we tell them to turn off the E125 at the roundabout signed Fonte Salgada.  In this sense it relates to a natural spring.

Fonte Pequena, Alte

My first sighting of natural springs here in Portugal was in the village of Alte.  Fonte Pequena (little spring) and then Fonte Grande (large spring) and the surrounding lush greenery came as a complete surprise.  It seemed a world away from the Algarve to which I was used.  Alte is described in detail in my Personal A-Z of Portugal, but I came across a lovely snippet of the poetry of Cândido Guerreiro, born in the village in 1871 and commemorated at the fontes:

“As the place where I was born lies encircled by four hills

Through which waters run singing

The songs of fountains and mills,

Waters taught me to speak.”

(Porque nasci ao pé de quatro montes

Por onde as águas passam a cantar

As canções dos moinhos e das fontes,

Ensinaram-me as águas a falar.)

I often go out with a walking group in the Algarve, or rely on a map and my husband, to find local beauty spots.  We found Fonte de Benemola, the Eternal Spring, one February day with the help of Julie Statham’s book, “Algarve-Let’s walk”.   The white faced cistus I love wasn’t yet in bloom and the valley was peaceful as can be, the fonte rippling silently in its depths.  On our way back to the car we spotted the solitary basket weaver, his wares strung along a reed fence.  He rather charmingly demonstrated his whistles and we purchased a small bowl.  A slightly wonky fruit bowl now sits on top of my fridge!

Fonte de Benemola, near Querenca

There is a wealth of natural springs in Portugal, some of which have been developed into health resorts.  The term “caldas” refers to thermal springs, as in Caldas de Monchique in the Algarve.  Further north, Caldas da Rainha (Queen’s hot springs) has had a thermal hospital since 1488, when Queen Leonor discovered the curative power of the waters.  Beautiful Sintra was also a spa.

Fonte in the back streets of Sintra

Spring water is a popular source for drinking water because of its relative purity and high mineral content, believed by many to have health benefits.  Just north of Coimbra, the small town of Luso is home to one of the most famous bottled waters in Portugal.  I seldom go walking without a bottle.

This post is part of my Personal A-Z of Portugal.  I’ve been following Julie Dawn Fox’s challenge for a while now.  If you’d like a look at what’s gone before, and maybe to join in with an A-Z of your own, please follow the links.  I need to catch up with my personal A-Z of Poland next.  See you next time.

Six word Saturday

Looking back on those golden days

It’s been a dreary week weatherwise so I haven’t been out and about as much as usual.  I’ve used the time well though and written a couple of Italian guides.  The old albums came out and took me back down Memory Lane, and I thought that you might like to come too?

Malcesine from Monte Baldo

Lake Garda was a family favourite when James was small.  Icecream, pasta and pizza- need I say more?

He was quite keen on the Power Rangers too!  Remember them?

We stayed that first year in a small family run hotel in Bardolino.  Our welcome was warm and the food memorable.  A simple tomato sauce with the pasta was the best I have ever tasted.  The tureen went round and around the dining room, till everyone was stuffed full.  You just couldn’t refuse!

Our days were spent hopping on and off ferries to explore the lakeside towns.  James especially loved the hydrofoils and his face would light up whenever he saw one.

Gardone Riviera

Limone del Garda

Castello at Sirmione

From the battlements at Sirmione

And then there was Gardaland!  Not on a par with Disney, but it was a good old family romp, with pirates, parrots and sealions.  The day ended following the procession, led by the park mascot, Prezzemolo (Parsley), a friendly green dragon.

Sunset in Bardolino

We had so much fun in Bardolino and still had lots to see, so the following year we returned to the top end of the lake, staying at Torbole.  This time we had a pool but the water was FREEZING!  James ventured in with his blow up dinghy, but I much preferred the ferries.

Torbole sul Garda

Windsurfers on Garda

A much younger Michael, lakeside at Riva del Garda

The moat at Riva

Torbole is the windsurfing centre on Lake Garda and some days the wind was quite fierce.  The surrounding scenery was spectacular however, and one day we went on a walking trip to Arco.

Spectacular Arco

James was mostly just impressed with the icecream, and playing in fountains, of course.  Another firm favourite was a tabletop game, a bit like pinball but played with a cue.  We’d seen it before in Austria.  Anyone else played it?

The following year we couldn’t possibly return to Garda again, so we went to Lake Como and lovely Bellagio instead.  More ferries to ride.  Still in love with Italy, Sorrento came next…. but perhaps I should save those memories for another day.

Hope you’ve enjoyed my Six word Saturday.  It’s all down to Cate at Show my face, who had the idea to share your week in six words. (which often lead to many more)  Go  check out her page so you can join in?  Use the link or my header above.  The button below will take you to my previous 6WS posts.  I promise to be briefer next week!

Six word Saturday

A Wedding Invitation and a Hug

It’s no secret that I have a talented and very artistic daughter.  Her cards often arrive late, but are always a pleasure to receive.  The Easter card shown above brought particular joy because out of it slipped a small black invitation card.

 Lisa has led an often troubled life and has had much to overcome.  I am enormously proud of her, and can hardly wait for this most special of occasions.  Slight doubts though, as to what the mother of the bride wears to a Steampunk Wedding?  The honeymoon will be in Venice, for Carnavale, lucky girl.  To attend is a lifelong dream of hers.  I wish them all the love and luck in the world.

Lisa, my tea and cake girl, at home in Nottingham

As if this wasn’t enough to gladden my week, I have also been awarded a Hug from Francine in Retirement.   I’ve long been an admirer of Francine’s blog so was truly humbled to receive this nomination.  Not being sure of blog etiquette in this matter, I need to point out that I had previously been nominated for the Hug Award by Alyson Sheldrake of The Thought Palette.  On that occasion I wrote A hug a day in acceptance of the award, and nominated a couple of blogs.  I plan to extend that nomination today to:

Ana at 1001 Scribbles

Patti of Read Me

Elisa at Fun and Fabulousness

Sonel at Sonel’s Photographic Corner

All of these blogs give me enormous pleasure.  I should also say thank you to Conny on A Hope for Today who originated the Hug Award.

Please join me next week on Cate’s Six word Saturday and we’ll see just what the week’s brought.  You could even have a little fun and play too?

Seven Super Shots

On a grey, murky Easter Sunday afternoon, after a rather nice dinner had been eaten and washed up, I decided to focus on my next challenge.  Julie Dawn Fox kindly tagged me to take part in HostelBookers Seven Super Shots.  You can see what Julie made of the challenge by clicking on her link above.  Quite appropriate that there’s a chocolate Johnny Depp to be viewed.  I didn’t get any Easter eggs.  Did you?

A photo that takes my breath away

The Ria Formosa from Cacela Velha

You might know that I’d be starting in the Algarve.  I have more beautiful shots from there than just about any place I’ve ever been- not surprising really.  This is a good time to point out that many of the photos on my blog are the handiwork of my husband Michael (he would say the better ones!)  As we sometimes share a camera, it can get confusing, but for the purposes of this post I have to stick to photos that I’ve taken.

The above shot comes from the very first time I witnessed the natural beauty of the Eastern Algarve, in the tiny hamlet Cacela Velha.  It really was breathtaking, and a moment I love to recapture.

A photo that makes me laugh, or smile

James goes paddling

This is one of many engaging photos of my son James that make me smile.  He was a charming toddler and easily found entertainment wherever in the world he happened to be.  Water was inevitably a success.  This was on Rhodes.  Can’t you tell?

A photo that makes me dream

North coast of Madeira from Porto Moniz

I’m fairly sure that this is one of Michael’s photos- oh dear, you’d better disqualify me!  It encompasses everything that I love in a photo- water, mountains, blue sky.  I thought Madeira one of the most beautiful places I have ever seen.  Cascades of flowers everywhere, distinctive buildings, fabulous scenery and wonderful levada walking- most definitely a place to dream.

A photo that makes me think

Part of the wall in the Jewish Cemetery, Krakow

I was very moved by this section of wall, constructed from the headstones wilfully destroyed by the Nazis during the Second World War.  I have been too cowardly to visit Auschwitz.  Just the descriptions of the teeth, hair and glasses massed in cabinets has me in bits.  I really can’t make myself go there.  But Kazimierz, the Jewish Quarter of Kraków, speaks to me of the past, and I was intrigued by the synagogues I saw there.  The area is now quite tourist orientated, but if you are able you should experience one of the free walking tours that are available.

A photo that makes my mouth water

A "quejinhos do ceu"

I’m not much of a foodie and I rarely remember to take any photos of food- I just eat it!  I was delighted with this exquisite little cake though.  I was in the small village of Constancia in Central Portugal, at the junction of the rivers Zezere and Tejo.  It’s a lovely peaceful spot for canoeists and nature lovers (unless you time it to arrive on a Youth Festival weekend, as I did)

In the tiny village square with its pelourinho (ornate pillory), visible from our hotel bedroom, we lingered for a coffee at the end of the day.  I have a fondness for the pastel de nata (custard tart), widely available in the Algarve, but the proprietor, Luis, advised me that they only had the local delicacy, quejinhos do ceu.  What a find!  It looked as good as it tasted- a strong hit of almonds.  Strictly for sweet toothes!

A photo that tells a story

Mummers at Grassington Dickensian Festival

Not the best of photos, but a memorable occasion.  The Dickensian Festival in the Yorkshire Dales village of Grassington is one not to miss if you’re in the area in December.  Together with nearby Skipton village, festivals are staged over 3 successive weekends.

The whole is in aid of local charity and you are quite likely to be offered “a kiss for 20p” from a nice-looking young shepherd. (no, that’s NOT my main reason for going!)  The Mummers have many a tale to tell, and if you’re into audience participation they’ll happily include you.  The day closes with a procession through the streets, following Joseph and Mary as they search for shelter at the three village inns.

The photo that I am most proud of (aka worthy of the National Geographic)

Porta da Vila, Obidos

I’m out of my depth here as I am no technician when it comes to photography- I just know what I like and do my best to capture it.  You knew I’d end with Portugal, didn’t you?  I’m going to give you two to chose from, since that one in Madeira wasn’t really mine.  That way I can legitimately claim seven.  The Porta da Vila is part of the town walls of Obidos – another place you don’t want to miss if you have the opportunity.  I was there at the time of a Medieval Fair, which really added to the atmosphere, but the liqueur Ginja de Obidos, served in chocolate cups, makes it a great venue at any time of year.

Sunset in Cabanas

I can never resist a sunset and am often up on our roof terrace at the end of the day, listening to the birds and watching the changing sky.  The above shot was taken in February, during an evening stroll along the boardwalk in Cabanas, just a few miles east of Tavira, in the Algarve.  I like to think I’m getting better at taking photos, but in reality I’m very hit and miss.

So I’ll pass on the challenge to someone I know can do much better:

Francine in Retirement

Fun and Fabulousness

Just a Smidgeon

Bringing Europe Home

Fabulous 50s

I am knocked out by the photography on all your blogs and I don’t know how you’ll pick just seven.  You also need to tweet your post to HostelBookers to let them know you’ve taken part at #7SuperShots.  Don’t forget to check out Julie’s Johnny Depp!

Six word Saturday

Happy Easter

to one and all

Joyful Easter

Happy Easter

Happy Easter

Happy Easter

Happy Easter

Happy Easter

Easter blessings

Happy Easter

Happy Easter

So many ways to say have a happy and joyful Easter.  Thought I’d share with you some of the cards from my Polish family.  They are especially poignant this year because on 31st March, my Uncle Włodek’s wife Janina died, quite suddenly, of cancer.

This post is to celebrate the memory of Janina, who, in the precious few years I knew her, sent me some beautiful cards.  God bless and keep you always.

Have a peaceful, joyous Easter!

Don’t forget to come back and play Cate’s Six word Saturday next week.

My travel inspiration

More excitement!  I’ve been nominated by Suzanne of the travelbunny to take part in Easyjet’s Inspiration Initiative.  Suzanne is a very well-travelled lady and I love her blog, so I musn’t let her down.  Inspiration to travel?  You only need to browse the current dazzling array of travel blogs.  Easyjet would like to know Who, What, When and Where are the inspiration for your travels?  There are prizes!

Who?  Like many others, I have a great fondness for Michael Palin and his gentle way of being in the world, interested but unobtrusive. (unless you count the camera crew, of course!)  His warmth and humour are ever-present, in sometimes quite trying circumstances.

Class 153, Michael Palin at
Cambridge, Wikipedia

I don’t imagine it was much fun battling altitude sickness in the Himalayas, and he’s certainly slept in some strange places.  Still, watching him on TV was the first time I can ever remember thinking “I want that job”.  I want to travel.  Why, he even has two trains named after him!

Living in hostel accommodation in London in my late teens, I explored back streets and wandered the riverside for hours.  I was besotted with the shiny city, so different from my quiet hometown.  Then one of my room-mates announced that she was emigrating to Australia.  The possibility had just never occurred to me!  Tempted though I was, I never made that leap, a new and lustrous relationship keeping me in place.  Who knows where I’d be today if I had, but I’ll never forget my inspiring, adventurous friend, Di.

London Town viewed from Greenwich Park

What?  It’s books for me, all the way.  I can never walk past the Oxfam shop in Durham without nipping upstairs for a peak at the travel section.  Before I know it I’m sunk in an armchair, with a heap before me on the coffee table.  Buddhist temples, multi-hued mountains, languid beaches- the world at my fingertips.

"Lumiere" 2011, Durham City

And planning?  I read everything related I can get my hands on.  I cannot bear to return from a trip and have somebody say “did you see…” and my answer be “no”.

Years ago I used to watch every episode of “A Place in the Sun”, riveted by the snippets of background on each of the destinations.  Every week I was “living” somewhere different.  Little did I think then that I’d fall in love with, nevermind buy, in Tavira, on the Eastern Algarve.

Ponte Romana and the skyline

When?  I still have home commitments and a husband who loves his work, or my gypsy caravan would have worn its wheels down long ago.  I always dreamed of owning a boat and following the coastline into infinity.  The nearest I’ve managed to date is gulet sailing in Turkey, and ferrying between the islands of Greece, but I’m still hopeful.  In the meantime, whenever I can get a well-priced flight the antenna start to quiver.

Where?  Many of my travels are centred in Portugal, but that’s no hardship.  It’s a beautiful country with one foot still a little bit in the past, and I like that.  From its vivid capital Lisbon, inland to the most wistful of castles at Almourel; from spectacular coastline to historic cities, there’s little that Portugal can’t supply.  I’m on a mission to see the Duoro valley this year.  You just can’t take the wanderlust out of Restlessjo, and I’m often to be found with my head in a travel guide.  Moorish Seville, Granada and Cordoba have surrendered, Jerez and Cadiz yet to be conquered.  Did somebody mention “Tall Ships” this year?  It must have been in the Easyjet magazine.

Real Alcazar gardens in Seville

My new found Polish family introduced me to a different culture, whose cities and landscape I find equally beguiling.  Krakow and the Tatry mountains certainly know how to inspire.  Nor can I discount the pleasure of walking on my native North Yorkshire moors, or a visit to my daughter in lively Nottingham.

Balon Widokowy (tethered hot air balloon) over Krakow

These days every morning presents a different trip.  I open up my emails and am transported to Anne Frank’s house in Amsterdam, or to play with traditional dolls in Japan, or climb the Great Wall of China.  How much have my blogging friends enhanced my world and inspired me!  Thank you all.

My 5 nominations are:

Have bag, will travel

Bringing Europe Home

Julie Dawn Fox in Portugal

A bit of culture

Travels of a Non Traveller

Good luck and happy travels folks!