Algarve

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

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!

N is for “não faz mal”

404322_287595227969825_100001580503329_842365_806400363_nIt seems ages since I was in Portugal, though in fact it was only in July.  In the words of a little Portuguese phrase, “não faz mal”- it doesn’t really matter.  Não faz mal is a bit like de nada in Spanish, but said with a Portuguese shrug of the shoulders, meaning “It’s ok!”

Portugal will still be there waiting for me, but I can’t help feeling a bit regretful.  Autumn is a lovely time to be there.  My walking group will be back in action after the Summer heat.  So many things I miss.

Liquid gold skies on our rooftop

Like the liquid gold skies on our rooftop

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My mind drifts back over times and places I’ve shared with you, and maybe some I haven’t.  Like my favourite island Armona.

Não faz mal!  It really doesn’t matter. Click on a photo to see the gallery.  I’m nostalgic today but who knows what tomorrow might bring?

Evening falls on Fabrica

Fabrica as the evening falls

Grateful thanks to Julie Dawn Fox for inspiring my Personal A-Z series, and to Frizz, who always welcomes people to his world.  The links will take you there.

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Thank you, Paula

"Sunshine on the water makes me happy"

“Sunshine on the water makes me happy”

A litttle while ago, Frizztext, whom I’m sure most of you will know and admire, placed this video in my Comments box and gladdened my heart.  It’s John Denver singing “Sunshine on my shoulders”, a song that always brings a lump to my throat.

Beautiful, isn’t it?  I thought I might follow it up with a few shots that always make me smile.

A lazy day when the umbrella was needed to keep the sun at bay

A lazy Tavira day when the umbrella was needed to keep the sun at bay

I love the angle of this boat on the water

A little boat to sail away on.

This hibiscus is planted outside our house and welcomes us back each trip.

This hibiscus is planted outside our house and welcomes us back each trip.

Everything that makes me smile about the island of Armona

Everything makes me smile about the island of Armona.

The storks in Faro old town

The storks in Faro old town

Endearing scenes from the Folk Festival

Those tents by the river always mean something good's happening.

Those tents by the river always mean something good is happening.

My rooftop, too!

From earliest morning, I love each of my days.

Not possible to leave out that bridge, is it?

Impossible to leave out my bridge, isn’t it? Like this angle?

Irresistibly drawn back to that beach.

But I’m irresistibly drawn back to that beach.

Flowers, ever present, in every season.

Flowers, ever present, in every season.

Paula, who is always Lost in Translation, asked what inspires you.  This is my offering, with thanks to Paula and the inimitable Frizz.

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Weekly Photo Challenge : Carefree

Flying high in the Algarve.

Flying high in the Algarve.

I struggled a bit to find carefree this week.  It’s not always gifted to us, is it?  But if there’s anywhere I can find it, you might know it would be in my beloved Algarve.  Click on the gallery below and maybe lighten your spirits.

I’m feeling better already.  Have you entered the Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge yet?  Hoping this finds you in a carefree frame of mind.

Weekly Photo Challenge : One shot, two (or three) ways

There are lots of ways to tackle this week’s Daily Post photo challenge- showing a subject in two different ways.  I was never much good at the “less is more” philosophy, so one shot isn’t really on the cards for me.

Reeth has the most beautiful setting on the River Swale in the Yorkshire Dales.  The Swing Bridge made me smile.  It didn’t so much swing as wobble if you jiggled about on it a lot.

I wouldn’t jiggle too hard on this bit of rusty railing at the ferry terminal on Tavira Island in Portugal’s Algarve.  It’s just the salt air- I’m sure it’s safe!

Or you could take the little steam train out to Barril Beach.  When the tide’s in the salt marshes look their beautiful best.

Before, or after, you hit the beach there are nice restaurants to linger in.

Evening’s always a good time to return to Tavira.  The sun settles over the river, and the swifts dart and play.

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When the lights go down you can often find a local celebration or Saint’s Day like this one at the Carmo, Tavira’s main church.  The service inside is broadcast on speakers, the priest’s beautiful voice soaring over the neighbourhood.

Did you enter the Daily Post Weekly Photo Challenge yet?  Come with me and we’ll check out some entries.