A mural for our times. I’d gone for a stroll by the water in neighbouring Cabanas when this curly headed cherub caught my eye. The following day there was an outbreak of Covid-19 and it became a place to avoid. Fortunately numbers seem to be decreasing locally and we have hopes of a return to normal life.
I’m afraid it’s smack down to earth again with today’s walk. No more high flying in Barcelona, but it was fun while it lasted. I’m having to be much more prosaic, because we are again under restrictions here in the Algarve. Depressing, isn’t it, but I’m determined not to wear a long face. The sky here is mostly blue, the fields are wave upon wave of nodding golden oxalis, and the almond trees are hastening from bud to blossom.
The beaches, with their wide open expanses, are once more closed, which makes me sad and seems to make little sense. But there are compensations. Even after all these years I can still find a strip of unexplored territory, if I try hard enough. And that always makes me smile. The freedom of stepping out into an almost unknown world is purely joyful. A narrow path, between stone walls, has me looking out on a scene I know, but how different it feels from the other side of the field. The oxalis colonise every possible crevice in the wall, and where they don’t intrude another invader creeps in.
The olive trees twist and twine, holding each other up. Yawning holes gape in their trunks, a readymade home for small creatures. I’m astonished to spy a bright pink cistus struggling out through the green. Surely it’s too early! But a heart-shaped hole in the rock makes me smile.
But there is no doubt that Spring is here. An asphodel nods in the breeze. Wisps of cloud drift across the sky, and suddenly a shaft of light illuminates the heavens. A moment of glory, and I gaze, transfixed! The almond blossom flutters shyly and a bird pauses, high on its perch.
A change of scene now for, across a road, the salt marshes stretch, away to the sea. The nearest I can get to the forbidden beaches. And so I wander between the channels of salt water, observing the process which will produce Flor do Sal, the area’s precious salt commodity.
A system of gates and pumps move the water from one channel to the next, in an age old method, culminating in the height of summer with salt crystals. Turning away, I head for home, not yet visible in the distance.
This is my reality now. A far cry from bright lights and big city, but beautiful in its own right. And I’m holding hands across the world with many in the same situation. We’ll get through this together.
It’s funny! Some weeks it just rains walks… or potential walks! If I’ve missed anybody out, I apologise in advance. Just give me a nudge! I now seem to be operating on a fortnightly basis, but I’ve no idea where I’m going next. Planning, hey? Join me on Jo’s Monday walk.
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How spectacular is this, from Sue and Dave? Tempted? Well….. not really! You know I love the sun :
Grotto Canyon Ice Walk : Winter Hiking Wonder
Certainly gentler scenery, but still beautiful with Anabel :
Fife Coastal Path: Cambo and Tentsmuir
Fife Coastal Path: Lower Largo to Earlsferry
Another coastal walk from Jonno and Jo, well wrapped up!
Boston, a city I’d love to see! And an Ice Sculpture trail. Pop over and say hello?
Last Day of 2020, Afoot in Boston Harbor
Still in the States, I found this rather beautiful. I’m a compulsive water follower :
You can always find beauty, if you look. And always in Lynn’s company :
And Cadyluck Leedy has a kwestion for you! The answer’s easy!
Why Would You Want to Go to a Botanical Garden in Gothenburg, Sweden?
While Drake makes his own music with the natural world :
Join Margaret for a bit of fun, in and out of the woods :
Sun getting up? Or sunset? The Answer
And have you met Emma? She has some beautiful self catering accommodation :
Jack & Jill and Chattri Memorial South Downs 8.5M/13.6KM Circular
Easy walking in sunshine sound good? Alice is your woman!
And something a little different from Rupali :
While we’re having some fun, can you spot Teresa in these photographs?
Kelly warns you not to get lost in this market. It’s very easily done!
Ending with a beautiful flourish of winter white from our Snow King and Queen :
That’s it for now! Hope you enjoyed it. I should be back with a walk in 2 weeks, come rain, come shine! Take good care in the meantime.
A change of pace today. I’ve managed to complete a circular walk around Calçadinha de Sáo Brás de Alportel , and also around the waterfall in my Christmas themed Loulé walk, in the last few weeks but restrictions have arrived. Having kept our head above water throughout most of the pandemic, numbers in Portugal rocketed after Christmas. So, for now, I’m back to local walks. It’s not a serious hardship. I took off one morning with a spring in my step, to check out a few nooks and crannies.
Gardens within the town are mostly of the patio variety, a simple courtyard with pots of colour. Here and there a bougainvillea creeps up a wall and a chair is strategically placed. Most often in the shade.
Not everywhere is beautifully maintained. Tavira has its share of unloved and tumbledown. Cracks abound. But for every sad ruin there is a carefully nurtured home. And some of the doors are exquisite.
We’ve climbed to the oldest part of town now. The ancient water tower conceals a Camera Obscura within. A good way to observe the town in its entirety, it stands shoulder to shoulder with the Santa Maria church. Once both were enclosed by the town walls, whose remnants provide beautiful views across the salt marshes and out to sea.
A gentle descent, through a choice of back streets, will bring you to the Praca da Republica, the main square, overlooking the river. It’s unnaturally quiet here at the minute, used as I am to a friendly buzz of people sharing coffee, cake and life stories. I walk on through the riverside gardens, where even the terrapins in the bandstand pool seem to be avoiding me. The new bridge hasn’t yet had its unveiling but looks ready for action.
Fishing boats ride at anchor, the days’ catch waiting for takers. I approach the flyover, with its sweeping views. The river meanders out to meet the Ilha and I stop to watch the storks performing aerobatics. There are a couple in the nest and it’s fascinating to watch them glide through the air. I turn away discreetly when the noisy courtship begins.
It’s not a bad place to be marooned, is it? Hopefully the restrictions will be short-lived as numbers in the Algarve are already declining. We’ll beat this thing yet! And in the meantime, the bakers are still open. Naughty cake, anyone?
A few shares this week, some of them looking very cold! I wish you could share the sunshine. Do visit, if you can! It’s nice to have a bit of company in these lonely times. Join me on Jo’s Monday walk whenever you like.
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Walk slowly to appreciate Inese’s wild Irish scenery! It’s in 2 parts :
If you’ve never walked with Madhu you have a real treat in store :
Brussels – Exploring History Through Architecture
And just to remind us it’s Winter! Thanks, Rupali :
Weekend 113: A walk in fresh snow
Weekend 114: Winter settles in
Everyone knows the Canadians love snow, don’t they, Lynn?
I love a coastal walk, but I do prefer blue skies, Anabel. I’m sure you do too :
Fife Coastal Path: Cellardyke to St. Monan’s
Fife Coastal Path: Cellardyke to Crail
Drake plays with nature and the wintery light :
Eunice has a love of street art. This is her latest collection :
For me, boats do it! Follow me to Norway with Cadyluck. It’s a bit cool though :
Haugesund, Norway: On the Waterfront
I’ll be back in a couple of weeks. Up north Spring is coming. It’s already here! Take care of each other, and keep walking!
Some of you have already met Medronho, the Strawberry Tree. It lines the Algarve hillside at this time of year, when early mornings and evenings can have a nip in the air. I’m sure that many a nip of the firewater distilled from the Medronho fruit has been imbibed here in these hills, to ward off the winter chills.
It was on just such a morning that I clambered up the steep hill above the village of Porto Carvalhoso, with a few like-minded friends. I didn’t notice anyone with a hip flask but coloured water bottles are the perfect disguise. Many of the cork oaks had been stripped, vulnerable in their nakedness.
Up and over the hill we went. After the initial scramble the trail leveled out and there was time to enjoy our surrounds. A striking, stone house had good views down the valley, while the tumbledown next door was clearly marked with the initials that denote the boundary of someone’s property. We were following a route on an App called Wikiloc, from which we’ve had mixed results. Anyone who subscribes can add a walk, so if they get a little lost and have to retrace their steps… well, you usually end up doing the same.
On this particular occasion we were gazing down the valley trying to fathom which way next. The route appeared to drop down a slippery slope, with no obvious way to descend. Fortunately a brave volunteer decided to test it out and, reassured, we followed on. The trods were completely overgrown. Happily no twisted ankles resulted, and soon the path became visible again. A rich tapestry of soft greens and beige surrounded us. In the distance a small cluster of houses invited. On our approach the sound of sawing filled the air, a sizeable logpile for the winter nights.
A stream runs through the bottom of the valley, the mill race watching in silence as the water gurgles. We wonder if there will be a water crossing, but thankfully not this time. It’s getting deep after recent rains. Instead we start the gentle climb back to the village, where our car awaits.
I remember this day as a light-hearted one. Part of a glorious weekend. Time with friends is precious. For now, they are my family. Porto Carvalhoso is a tiny village, just off the N270 which runs north from Tavira.
I had to share a walk today, because a backlog of shares is building up. Please find some time to visit the following walks. You might well find a friend. And maybe join me next time, here on Jo’s Monday walk? You’ll be very welcome.
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Isn’t Autumn beautiful? Meg’s happy to share :
And the photos in this one are stunning! Thanks, Denzil and Herman :
The Millennium Tower and La Fange de l’Abime
Natalie managed Walktober. One of these days I’ll get there!
Eunice enjoyed a pretty part of the Yorkshire Dales :
Kirby Lonsdale – exploring somewhere new
And if you should one day be in need of a periwig, Marion knows just the place!
Meanwhile, Margaret asks a very fair kwestion :
I’m always affected by the way Drake sees the world :
How about a gentle stroll with Albert?
Shoreline Walk – Return via Western Foreshores
Or a little soft mist, with Rupali :
Weekend 110: A walk in the mist
I never can resist a waterfall, and Aiva is the perfect guide :
A fantastic walk of the weekend : Exploring Ireland’s Highest Waterfall
Why not take a visual stroll with Flavia?
Vico Equense – Ceramics (Part 1)
While Carol takes us Skywalking in Queensland :
And Kelly gets even higher in beautiful Bali!
This week I will have been a resident of the Algarve for two years. I expected to write an update on Living the Dream, but right now I’m feeling sad. Hopefully I’ll give myself a shake and ‘crack on’!
Often enough we go wandering in the hills. Sometimes we follow a trail. Sometimes one of us has trod that way before. One of us is looking for a home with a beautiful view. It might be modern, or a more traditional Portuguese style. But we all stop, look and offer an opinion. It matters not, of course, for the house is seldom on the market and, if it were, would be way beyond our budget. But it’s a harmless pursuit.
We start in the village. A rather ramshackle window is firmly shuttered, inviting no buyers. An uphill cobbled track leads to a country lane, and the most exquisitely gnarled olive tree trunk. I stop to admire.
A feature of this part of the world, great boulders are stacked one upon another. They interlock, braced against the sky. Has some idle giant been playing at jigsaws, then strode off into the clouds? The textures absorb the sunlight.
The land opens out, with a scattering of almond trees. How beautiful will they look in spring, laden with armfuls of white blossom? A narrow lane leads to a quirky little bungalow. Perhaps I could live here, but it’s much too far from shore.
The views are far reaching and lovely, and I can picture the smoke-coloured evening hills. Still, the valley can never surpass the sea for me.
But maybe for Jude? I’d better ask her!
I’m going to be a little bit naughty today. You see, Su’s invited me to a tea party and, as usual, I’m totally unprepared. So what I thought I’d do is share with you my birthday treat last Thursday. Raspberry cheesecake with a chocolate base, anybody?
Let me set the scene. Heavy rain is threatened and a warning in place for electrical storms. I know I’m lucky to be able to go out to celebrate the day, but I did have such plans. A nice little spot overlooking a dam. Serene and beautiful. Sunset on the water, and a sunrise full of misty promise. But when the rain drifts in, visibility nil. Go to plan B. A restaurant I’ve been curious about for some time. Cha Cha Cha, in Olháo.
Initially we think, hop a train. A leisurely afternoon with fine wine. But the storm threatens and we jump in the car. Into a head wind on the waterfront. Will we make it before the storm hits?
Barely just! We have the place almost to ourselves. Heavy wooden doors bolt us in. A tiny outlook to a bougainvillea clad wall. Swiftly and firmly closed and the plum velvet curtains swished shut. The sound of drumming rain and the growls of thunder prowling the rooftops. We don’t mind. Secure and warm. And there’s cake! An atypical Algarve birthday, in an atypical year.
Now come on over to Su’s place for sumptuous food and a bit of a gossip.
I’ve had the song running through my head since I read Ana’s post on Saturday. The sun will come out tomorrow is almost guaranteed in my present home in the Algarve. But it wasn’t always so. Back in the north east of England there were as many grey days as blue. I’m one of the lucky ones, who’ve managed to turn the dream into reality, and I try to be grateful for that every day.
Rain, here, is something to be cherished, though I didn’t actually tap-dance, Gene Kelly style, when the heavens opened last week. I did watch, awe-struck, as the lightning rolled and the thunder clapped. And marvelled afterwards at the fresh green beauty of my world.
I find the salt pans almost as lovely under leaden skies, but there is no denying the joy I feel when sunlight glints on the water. The world sparkles with a magic all its own. It fills me with hope for a brighter and better future. If only we can make it happen.
I don’t often venture into black and white, but now and again it makes a change, and it’s grey here today.
We’re back in the lanes again this week. Not so much a walk as a collection of reminiscences. In these past few weeks we’ve walked, in 2s and 4s, and once, daringly, in an 8. Our horizons were broadened and then, like the slamming of a door, curtailed.
In common with much of Europe. Patience is required. Not something that comes naturally, to me, at least. And yet, I’m surrounded by beauty.
It is the time of year to return to the hills. Slowly, for there is no hurry. Savouring the subtle aroma of orange blossom. A day’s worth of rain brings life and colour to the fields. Gentle sunshine breathes warmth over ripened vines and olives. The grape harvest now complete, nets are spread hopefully beneath gnarled trees to catch the olives. Pomegranates blaze a dark red promise of the luscious jewels to come.
As we ramble, snippets of information are exchanged. Our own grapevine of survival. Stories that make us smile. Some that make us sad. Linking us to one another. I stop to peer at a chequered fork, lying on the cobbles. Fallen from a bike’s panier after a picnic, perhaps? A quirky find. Softly coloured houses, one with a spreading vine, one trailing delicate green fronds over a wall. Its shadow dances at any hint of breeze.
A slight gradient follows, and a climb into the hills. Overhead the clouds soar and bubble away to the horizon. We look back to the coast, glistening in the distance, and point out our homes. The rock formations crumble on either side of us, raw nature reminding us that the earth has survived many ages. And, with or without our help, will continue to do so. Unlike some of the abandoned hill villages in the Algarve.
Dark clouds swoop, a portent of further life-giving rain, and a nudge back down the hill in time for lunch. I’m sure we can find cake somewhere? After all, it’s Monday!
Hopefully I’ve rounded you all up from my last Monday walk. Apologies to anyone I’ve missed. I’m intending to make Jo’s Monday walk a monthly feature at present, so feel free to drop by with a walk at any time. I’ll always try to make you welcome.
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Janet has discovered a whole new and wonderful world in Arizona :
Is it Autumn where you are? Rupali trails colours in her wake :
While Margaret takes note of each step and stone :
Trusty’s Hill and Rutherford’s Monument
Carol shows off her native Australia :
Wonderful autumnal scenes and an ‘almost selfie’ from Drake :
Way back in time, LadyLee had a holiday!
And Marion explored a beautiful English town :
Have you ever been to Armenia? No, nor me! Interesting, though…
Armenia: The Beauty of Not Hiking Mont Azhdahak
I’m always a sucker for enthusiasm. Where better than Tuscany?
San Gimignano, the turreted village
While Frank muses on the shoreline :
4 – Shells – Beach Walk Reflections
Please do visit the above. They’re all lovely people and you might make a new friend. Meanwhile, have a great month!
restlessjo 
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