I’m sharing with you my pride and joy of the moment- my Bird of Paradise (Strelitzia), with its 3 flowers. Also, a chunk of especially delicious chocolate cake, and a quiet azulejo and bowl of yellow roses behind a grill at our local Carmo Church. All of them say Easter to me, in their own way.
I thought I would link to Terri’s Calla Lily in The Flower Hour. A symbol of peace, and I wish you peace in your hearts. It’s hard to look at our world today and witness the suffering of so many. I can only hope for better times, and wish you all a joyful Easter.
There’s something so magical to me about the Azores. You leave mainland Portugal and fly across the ocean for 2 hours. And then they appear, like a mirage shimmering in front of you. The plane dips down, and suddenly you’re enveloped in a green world, punctuated by soft peaks and surrounded by water. I was entranced from my very first sighting. Could Terceira (the Third Island) repeat the enchantment I had experienced with it’s neighbours? I really hoped so, and I wasn’t disappointed. I’ll be telling you all about it’s wonders, and a little woe, in the weeks to come.
We arrived just as the sun was setting, bathing the mountain in an amber glow. I could hardly wait for the following morning. At breakfast I bagged a window seat and simply gazed. I had been uncertain about the weather but we were blessed with a glorious first day. I couldn’t wait to get out into it.
We were staying in Hotel Caracol (The Snail). Not a very appealing name but I liked the location, in Angra do Heroismo, and it became apparent where the name came from as we rounded the bay and observed the conical shape. Steps lead down to a promenade that circles the Bay of Fanal. It was early morning quiet and we exchanged smiles with other strollers, some of whom may have been staying in the grander Terceira Mar, but we all shared magnificent views.
Our objective was to climb Monte Brasil, and look back down on the city. There are a number of routes around the summit, but we started gently, by the old lime kiln, and continued up to the mighty fortress of Sao Joao Baptista. A small plantation of dragon trees wove patterns alongside. I love their distinctive shape.
In the 1500s the Azores provided a strategic route between goods from India and the Orient and the European market, and were highly vulnerable to attack from pirates and privateers like Francis Drake. The fortress constructed for the defence of the islands is impressive and, to this day, hosts a military presence.
A narrow tunnel leads to the walking trail, bypassing the military base. Cockerills strut, importantly, about their business.
An expansive view unfolds before you. In June and July hydrangeas rule, but in March we were treated to a dazzling display of azaleas.
Many times we stopped to revel in those views. The Ilheus das Cabras (Goat Islands) float dreamily on the horizon.
At the summit, a signal post, with detailed instructions in case of attack. But all was peaceful that day, despite the world’s troubles.
I breathed in deep lungfuls of air, suffused with pleasure at being back. Our descent was swifter, past the cat colony and skirting St. Anthony’s tiny chapel. My goal was the marina and a glass of wine, before exploring this beautiful city.
I hope you’ll be able to come with me.
But first we have some walks to share. Many thanks for all your comments :
That old river bank is endlessly fascinating. Thanks, Margaret!
Certainly not me! Last Sunday was an excursion into wonderland. Orchis italica (commonly known as the Naked Man orchid) was in full bloom. And it wasn’t alone. Yellow Bee Orchid, Mirror Orchid and Sombre Bee Orchid hovered close by.
We were made to work quite hard, climbing to the trig point high above Santa Barbara de Nexe, but it was so worth it.
There were fossils to be seen along the trail, sparkling white and rosy pink rock roses, and slender wild tulips.
Up at the top, an abandoned windmill. Who was responsible for the graffiti? Possibly the same person who brought the armchair!
I’m away next week, but I couldn’t leave without sharing a little more of the Algarve’s wild beauty. I’m hoping for more in the Azores, but meanwhile Debbie’s London is bursting into flower.
What a mixed bag this last month or so has been! Everything from ash grey skies and drizzly damp, to that miraculous Algarve blue. Believe me, you really get to appreciate the latter when it’s taken away. Still, we made the best of what we had, and there were some truly joyful days to enjoy. Let’s start with the grey (but atmospheric), and get it out of the way.
Even in the midst of gloom, I admired the swirl of clouds on the horizon. If you look hard you can see the arcs of the bridge across to Spain. There’s also a ferry over the Guadiana river, and sometimes we stroll on that other shoreline. More often we content ourselves with a wander past ‘our’ marina. I like to sit at the restaurant at yon end, and watch the boats coming and going. And in Vila Real de S. Antonio there are always ragged doorways to snag your attention.
Let’s move on to a memorable day last month. We were invited to join some friends on a visit to a cookery school in Faro. We would get to look around the former convent where it was situated, and then to enjoy ‘fine dining’ at the hands of the students. It sounded like too good an opportunity to miss, so we hopped an early train together and off we went.
The town walls provide an interesting viewpoint down into the old town and out to sea, and we had a little time in hand. Strange things happen sometimes and, as we climbed the steps to the wall, we spotted a notice on the unmanned bar in the restaurant, ‘Free beer’. We looked at each other in astonishment. Was there a catch? Of course, the beer had to be sampled, and was pronounced fine. It almost certainly enhanced the view, but I have no idea why it was available. On, to the cookery school…
It was quite an experience. We were given a guided tour by a young student, a cocktail in the smart, modern bar and then an elegant lunch- amuse bouche, roasted tomato soup with parmesan crisp, salmon en croute and a wonderful almond dessert. There was no choice, but it represented very good value for money, and gave the students the opportunity to hone their skills.
Not wanting to waste a lovely afternoon, and to aid the digestion, we headed next to Jardim da Alameda João de Deus, in hopes of spotting a peacock or two. It’s a modern city park, perfect for families and sunny Sundays.
No, of course he didn’t spread his tail, but I was happy with those effervescent colours in the sunshine.
Late February and on through March is the time for wild orchid hunting in the Algarve. We have a couple of favourite sites and I try to visit as many as I can. Each year we find something new, as well as beloved specimens like the Yellow Bee Orchid (ophrys lutea) and the Naked Man Orchid (orchis italica), the latter always a source of merriment. This year we were delighted to find the Southern Early-purple Orchid (orchis albiensis) high on the limestone cliffs at Rocha da Pena.
The orchids were growing in profusion, in and amongst the arid landscape. I love the striations in the rocks and the plants that colonise every crevice. The tiniest daffodils, palest bluebells and orchids in every shade of plum and pink.
It’s a mighty landscape, full of ochre and grey, and strewn with tiny bursts of colour.
I read that there are 55 varieties of wild orchid to be found in Portugal, and 40 of them occur in the Algarve. They arrive in February and continue through to April, so I still have time to find more. Hopefully you’ll tag along.
I won’t be around next Monday, because I’ll be on my way to Terceira in the Azores. I promised myself a return to these Portuguese islands in the Atlantic, however brief. I’ll report back soon. Take good care till then.
We all have places that we love, and it had been in my head for some time that I wanted to return to Silves. We spent a lovely few days there for a birthday, a couple of years ago, but it’s less than an hour’s drive from home, so an easy afternoon escape. There’s a timeless quality about the place that I hope it will never lose. It’s also beloved of a whole colony of storks, who make their homes in some improbable places. At this time of year you can hear the clack-clacking of their courtship rituals, and know that it won’t be long before tiny stork heads will appear over the nests.
(I like to caption my galleries- just click on any photo)
The dark red castle is the dramatic focal point of the city, and well worth a visit for the views from the sturdy walls, but we were just enjoying the beautiful day and chose to stroll around the outskirts. Sometimes you are rewarded with a sight you’ve never seen before, and that was the case this particular day. This majestic building sat at the end of a small local park, and look who’s watching us from the dome of the roof! Though he’s likely to be concerned with more important matters.
It was a Sunday afternoon and not easy to tell whether the building was still in use, but it was firmly closed to the outside world. We carried on, following our noses, and soon emerged on the edge of the old town. A wide, grassy space separates the old from newer developments, built to have a prime view of the castle on the hilltop. In the far distance you might just be able to make out a windmill. We climbed to that vantage point on a previous visit.
A road curves quietly around the hill and we followed it, admiring the views out across the plains. Gradually it brings you to the front of the castle, climbing steadily beneath the walls of the fortress.
The houses are that ramshackle mix of well lived-in dwellings, renovation projects and smarter modern homes that we’ve come to associate with Portugal. A haphazard charm. It’s a nice area to wander around but, as you do so, you realise the precarious nature of this hillside. Are the houses being supported by the castle walls, or are they leaning on the houses?
As we rounded the corner I gasped at the realisation that the back of one of the houses had collapsed into the garden below. Heavy rainfall had caused flooding down by the river and land slippage higher up.
Elsewhere all was calm, quietly enjoying the afternoon. No sign of weakness at the front of the castle, where all stands proud and firm. The gateway nobly invites you inside.
But not for us. We already had lunch in mind and continued idling the streets, hopefully.
With a measure of success, I think you’ll agree.
Thank you for walking along with me. Now let me share a few walks :
You could say that Sarah had a lucky break, but it turned out well for all of us, looking on :
Nice to end on a more cheerful note this week, though it isn’t looking any better ‘out there’. I hope, wherever you are, you can get out and wander. I’d be lost without it. Have a good week!
I make no apologies for taking you back. It is a delicious wander in sunshine, and we were with friends who’d never actually been to Culatra before. The weather has gentled towards Spring, the perfect time to go to the islands. We convened at the ferry departure point in Olhão, to catch the 11.00 sailing. Despite appearances, the ferries are generally reliable and a pleasant way to travel.
(I like to caption my galleries- just click on any photo)
The island is quite lush at this time of year and a quiet place for a wander, though your choice of restaurants will be limited. Getting off at the second stop, Farol (the lighthouse), and walking back to Culatra maximises the possibilities.
You can’t get much closer to the beach than this. You’ll permanently have sand in your shoes.
There’s an island sense of humour that might not appeal to everyone, but beachcombers here put their finds to good use.
Violent storms have rearranged the shoreline and you now have a bit of a scramble down to the beach. It resulted in hilarity as some of us opted to slide down. My crop trousers were sand-coloured so it didn’t matter. You can spend as long as you want, dawdling along beside the water but, eventually, you come to a boardwalk that leads you inland, across the island.
The village of Culatra has a small fishing harbour and a smattering of eating places. There’s enough time to comfortably complete the walk and enjoy lunch before catching the return ferry at 3.15.
It’s a lovely day out, and one I’ve taken many times. There was a little controversy over the green cake, but I quite liked it.
This week’s walks. Thanks, everybody :
Anabel’s post takes me right back to when my son was a toddler :
I don’t know about you, but I’m feeling very anxious this morning. I try to remain upbeat but the world is such an unhappy place right now. The blog feels like pretty trivia, but I don’t know what else to do. Can anybody stop this madness? If only wishing could make it so. Sorry to end on such a gloomy note but I’m sure most of you are feeling the same. If ever there was a time for prayer…
Carnival is a yearly event here in the Algarve. Sometimes it’s sunny, sometimes a little rain sends folks scampering for cover. This year the weather was near perfect. I spent Sunday afternoon at Moncarapacho, but on Shrove Tuesday the emphasis was on the main event at Loulé. What both had in common was the use of paper flowers.
Aren’t they fabulous? I think Terri will be happy for them to share in The Flower Hour #19.
Well here he is Pink Panther, the rinky-dink Panther…
‘And it’s as plain as your nose! …’ Yes, I followed the TV series, back in the day. But I really didn’t expect to find him at the Carnival parade in Moncarapacho. Many of the small towns throughout Portugal have their own celebrations, as well as the large-scale events in the cities. I usually like to experience both, and this year we headed inland a short distance, on an unexpectedly sunny Sunday, to normally sleepy Moncarapach’. (the Algarvians have a tendency to swallow many of their vowels in speech, and it’s catching)
Arriving early, to secure a place to park, we first ambled around, enjoying the laidback ambience. Of course, the first prominent building we came to was Igreja Matriz, the magnificent Mother Church. A few tell-tale ribbons dangled from the roof, their colourful pennants fluttering in the mild breeze.
(I do caption my photos wherever possible, so please open the galleries for more information or a bit of fun)
Like most Algarve towns, Moncarapacho has its share of flaking paintwork alongside perfectly groomed buildings, a few of them vibrantly coloured. There are only a couple of main streets and some lanes comprising the centre, so it’s an easy place to explore.
Tucked into a back street, behind the church, stands a small history museum. I have rarely found it open, and then only when I didn’t have time to stop, so it remains a mystery to me. Next to it there’s a small church, equally shuttered up.
As we sauntered by an elderly lady watched our progress from her doorstep. I nodded ‘Bom dia‘ and smiled politely. I imagine it’s wearying having your home invaded by strangers, come to gawk at the annual parade. At the end of the road we were quite surprised to come upon a large pottery. It was closed, but I made a mental note to return another day.
People were starting to drift towards the centre of town and it was time to seek out a good vantage point. We were fortunate to find space close to the start of the parade, and be able to watch the preparations.
Gradually the square filled and the noise level rose. We were accustomed to waiting for the show to begin but, on the stroke of 3, we were amazed to find that the floats started to move off. In some cases without their passengers, who had to scurry to catch up. The atmosphere is always relaxed and good-natured, with much fooling around and hugs and kisses exchanged along the way.
The farm crew were happy to pose for photos and the scarecrows to provide a little homespun entertainment.
The elephant appeared to be somewhat anxious, but the Nile cruise was sailing along without a hitch. Elsewhere a coven of witches appeared to have lost their broomsticks but found their party frocks.
But there’s only so much noise and excitement I could cope with on a Sunday afternoon. As the parade continued to circuit the town, with no notion to finish any time soon, we prised ourselves away. After all, I needed to find some cake for Monday.
And so I did….
Time to share a few walks. Thanks, folks!
I doubt you’ll find anywhere more spectacular than this. I absolutely love Maggie’s post :
The following day we took ourselves off to Loule. A different dynamic but the same sense of fun. Carnival’s over for another year, but there’s still much to look forward to. See you again soon.
The weather has finally begun to settle here in the Algarve, much to everyone’s relief. But today I’m taking you back to an early January day when we were heading north for a short stay in Monsaraz. It was a promising sunny morning when we left, but we hadn’t rolled far up the IC27 when we were enveloped in a damp mist. We exchanged those glances that say ‘it’s going to be that kind of weekend, is it?’ and kept on rolling. You can imagine our delight when the blue sky reappeared and we were bathed in glorious sunshine, just as we reached Mértola. An ideal place to break our journey.
We were somewhat surprised when we reached our usual parking spot, on the edge of town, to find it full of muddy motorcycles. We had arrived in the middle of an event and, at intervals, the bikes would roar off into the hills. Fortunately, the village itself was very quiet, and we set our sights on climbing up to the castle.
(I always caption my photos, so don’t forget to open the gallery)
It’s a steady ascent and you’re rewarded with beautiful views over the town and the River Guadiana.
The cobbles are ancient and lend atmosphere to this lovely spot. We could just discern a couple of the bikes, racing across the distant bridge, but time seems to stand still in these parts. The town had its beginnings in the Iron Age and the Romans certainly made themselves comfortable in this hilltop garrison. But it was the Muslim occupation that had the most impact on the development of Mértola, and their influence lingers still.
I could have been tempted just to sit and gaze over the wall, but this was only a short stop on our journey north.
And then we turned the corner, away from the river, and began our serious ascent towards the castle.
The last section is quite steep and you feel for the ancient legs that live alongside this path. Bringing home the groceries cannot have been fun unless you had a donkey back in the day. I hate the noisy motorcycles but they definitely have their uses.
The path becomes uneven as you approach the church, sitting proudly at the crown of the hill. It’s there that the Arab presence is most keenly felt. The church was conquered for the Christians but retains a mihrab as well as an altar.
I peered through the glass into a dusty chapel I had not noticed before. Usually our main focus is the castle and the ongoing developments there. This sleepy place comes alive during the Islamic Festival in May. Rugs and colourful spreads are draped across the streets to keep out the sun’s piercing rays, but the heat still simmers around a dazzling array of metalwork and jewellery. Incense and leather mingle with exotic spices to tempt your nose.
It’s easy to let your imagination wander here and I’m always beguiled by its charms, but it was time to return to the real world and those muddy bikes. I hope you’ve enjoyed meandering with me.
More walks to share this week. Many thanks, everybody :
It’s often cold, but it’s a beautiful coastline. Thanks, Anabel :
It’s a busy week here in the Algarve. With Shrove Tuesday tomorrow, we’re in the midst of Carnival, and the weather is being kind. I’m not sure how much blossom will remain for the festival this weekend, but you can be sure there’ll be cake.
I’m a little late with this medley, though it doesn’t really matter. It’s just me tying up a few loose threads, before the year runs away with me. I had to look back at 15 to remind myself where I left off. We were in the run up to Christmas and the days were mostly dry and bright, but cold. Since the year turned it’s been a different story. Wild and wet was January’s theme, but of course there have still been bright spells. Just enough to encourage the almond blossom to peep out and bask in a little warmth, but the yearly festival at Alta Mora has been put back for 2 weeks while the storms rampage. It wouldn’t do for the giant cake to get soaked, would it?
(I always caption my galleries, to give you a few clues)
It’s not been all doom and gloom, though. Olhão has a new, waterfront park, complete with bird hides and a wild flower meadow. Time will tell how well it thrives, but this is a nice start.
I like to bimble a bit further along the coast and check out what’s new in Faro. The Algarve’s capital is an ongoing restoration project, and I don’t think it will ever be complete. If you’re looking for a do-er upper, it’s not a bad place to start your search. Or, if you like taking photos of battered doors and buildings, you’ll feel right at home. There are many fine examples of street art too, often in unexpected places. I do like an element of surprise.
Even after all these years of wandering through Faro, I can still come upon something unfamiliar. Tucked away, inside the town walls, this beautiful property. Was it occupied, or not? I couldn’t tell.
Back in Tavira, there were calm days, and then the others, when the streets were uncannily empty and the skies heavy with rain. Inside the castle gardens there was still beauty to be found.
Our river hasn’t yet burst its banks but the current is fierce at times, the boats tugging on their lines.
But somehow, these orchids go on thriving… and I guess there’ll always be cheesecake!
We have been incredibly lucky, so far, in Tavira. The rain may have blasted us, but we don’t have floods, nor any of the tragic scenes we’ve witnessed along the Guadiana and further north in Portugal. I’m counting my blessings. It’s hard to remain cheerful sometimes, looking at the devastation to favourite places.
One thing I still have to remember to do is share a few walks. Thank you, everybody :
Penny has a fascination with moss, and I can’t say I blame her :
Natalie hosts a monthly wrap-up, too, and I did tell her I’d join in. Better late than never! Here’s the link.
We have so many lovely friends here at the moment, and our ‘youngsters’ are happy, back in the UK. What more can I want? I’m still making plans for the rest of the year, and hoping that the flood affected areas recover soon. It’s Carnival this month and the weather’s often temperamental. We’ll see how it goes. Stay well! xx
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