Our time to travel is running out now that we are confirmed to be moving back to Canada this summer. Because of my work schedule, I can't just take off whenever I want, like I could the last couple of years, so we really have to make the times we have for holidays count. We debated several places we still wanted to go to, and the final decision was to go to the south of Portugal. This would be a new country for me, but my husband had been there as a kid, and he wanted to go back as an adult to enjoy it from a new perspective.
Our trip began with a bit of trepidation, not because of anything to do with the trip itself, but because my dad had gone into the hospital after a severe case of pneumonia about a week prior. I was looking forward to him recovering, in part so that I could video chat with him from Portugal since it was somewhere he had always dreamed of travelling to. So each day, while I was able to enjoy the beautiful scenery and cuisine, this was in the back of my mind as we needed to consider what to do in case he didn't recover. My blog post here may not be as detailed as I might normally make my posts as a result. I wrote down notes in my travel journal, and that's about all I've got to rely on as so much has happened since and during the trip that I wasn't really able to process and think about things as I normally do.
Sagres
Now that I'm into birdwatching, I had hoped to spend some time at a nature reserve and sanctuary in a local national park that also is one of the largest wetland conservation areas in Portugal, the Ria Formosa Nature Sanctuary. I'd read that there are flamingos there, so that sealed the deal for me: actually seeing flamingos in the wild. What we learned the hard way, when trying to find this place, is that nature reserves are so well protected that no map can find them. Even with Google and Apple Maps, neither program allowed us find the park. We tried finding it, and it was large enough that we thought there would be an opening somewhere, but no, we couldn't find any entrance at all. And when we tried to find one later in the day after heading to Sagres, we couldn't find a route on either map program either, so we just gave up, and I had to be content with seeing and photographing whatever I came across while roaming around everywhere else we went. You can book boat tours of the Ria Formosa, but I thought it would be easy enough to find a hiking path in one part of the park, and you can't book them at the last minute, so it was a lost cause. At least the hotel we were staying at had some extensive grounds (it was also a spa and golf course), so there was a decent amount of bird variety there, of all things.
As for Sagres, our desire to go there was based on it being the southwestern-most point of the Continent. We've been to the one in the UK on the main island (in Cornwall), but now we could go to the one in Europe. (The only other -most point I've been to is Point Pelee National Park, the southern-most point in Canada.) In this area, there were orangey-red cliffs on the coast with views of more turquoise-coloured ocean, and we enjoyed these scenes from the Fortaleza de Sagres and Cabo São Vicente, where there's still a working lighthouse. Fortaleza is Portuguese for fort, a fort that was used to protect against North African invaders. We ate at a place called Gigi's that evening, which appeared to be one of the only restaurants open in town at the time we were there. The starter we had was outstanding: fresh oysters right out of the water, pretty much, and onto our plates. In fact, they still had sea water in them, and the server shucked them at the table for us. The main dish was okay but not great, but it fed us, and the server was a nice guy who had family in Toronto and who had visited Toronto four times as a result. I know there's a huge Portuguese population there, but it was surprising to meet someone like this in a random town in Portugal. We went to the Cabo mainly to catch the sunset as there is supposed to be a really pretty view from there, but it ended up being too cloudy on the horizon to see the sun. There were some pretty pinks in the clouds, but no real sunset to speak of.
Porches
We stayed fairly local the next day. We had driven quite a lot the previous day, thanks to the failed attempt to get to the nature reserve and it being in the opposite direction of Sagres, so I asked the front desk at the hotel for some recommendations. There was a local place for birding that she suggested as well as a place to get some beautiful ceramic work from the region. I had wanted to get a couple of tiles as a souvenir. And I asked about some Moorish or North African ruins that might be in the area, so we ended up deciding that we would try to see the ruins the following day on our last day there. The birding place wasn't all that exciting, mainly because of the season I think, so there wasn't that much to see, though I did end up seeing a few new species to me (see my bird blog for more photos and info), and there was a beautiful boardwalk that led out to the water as well as to a beach area (though it wasn't beach weather, it was still nice to see). I saw several people walking and jogging for exercise on the boardwalk as well, and I was curious why so many people were exercising on this path that only seemed to be about half a kilometre, but I wanted to follow it going back from the water for a while just to see where it went, and also because I'd heard sheep bleating, and they seemed close enough that I wouldn't have to walk all that far to find them, and I also thought that being in the trees might yield some other bird photos as well. I discovered that the boardwalk actually goes on for quite some distance, exactly how far, I couldn't know, but I realised why people could use it for exercise. Anyway, I did find the sheep, and they were mixed with goats, being watched over by a local herder, a stereotypical quaint looking man, short with a huge, graying mustache, and with a brown leather face, weathered by who knows how many days under the hot summer sun. He said good morning to me with a smile as he saw me taking photos of his herd and his dogs. What made this bucolic scene exceptional to me was the sound of the bells on the animals. Most of the sheep and the goats had a bell around their necks that sounded like the kind of windchime that has a subtle clink of sea shells or something similar rather than metal clanging. It was so relaxing and peaceful.
The drive to the ceramics shop was winding and indirect--my husband put that into Apple Maps on purpose so that we could truly take the scenic route. We drove through pastoral countryside scenes with huge trees or various sorts, red and orange rocks making hills, and small local farms raising a variety of animals and crops, from what I could tell.
That evening, we ate at a very local restaurant in Porches for dinner and enjoyed home-cooked style Portuguese food (described below in the section about food). The restaurant was in the town centre, nestled into local bars and shops along narrow, cobblestone roads. It really gave you the sense of being in real Portugal rather than in the tourist areas, and that's always what I enjoy the most when I travel is having authentic, local experiences.
Gastronomical Enjoyments
The night we arrived, we ate at the hotel's restaurant, as it was dark, and we didn't fancy driving around in an unfamiliar place to find somewhere to eat that may or may not be any good. The meal we tried was outstanding. I tried fish cheek stew and a mousse-like dessert that consisted of dulce de leche and chocolate ganache that you crack open on top just like a crème brûlée. The following night was the one where we had the super fresh and delicious oysters, and then the night after that was when we went to the local place, Porches Velho. Sticking with my cheek theme, I tried beef cheek and had an orange tart for dessert. One of the main agricultural products of The Algarve is actually oranges. You can see orchards and orange trees in people's yards everywhere. The restaurant at our hotel where we had breakfast served freshly squeezed local orange juice as part of their breakfast offerings; it's the best tasting orange juice I've ever had--even compared to freshly squeezed juice I've had in other countries where oranges are grown. There's something about the flavour of these oranges that is uniquely superior--at least in my opinion--relative to other orange varieties. Even if they export these oranges, it's unlikely we will get them in Canada, so I'm just grateful to have had the chance to try such a treat.
Our Last Day
We didn't end up doing anything on the last day. I could barely eat breakfast as my dinner the night before was still sitting in me, seemingly undigested. Sure enough, it didn't stay there. I came down with norovirus. My husband felt okay in the morning, but as the day went on, he felt worse and worse, and he ended up with norovirus as well. Neither of us had much energy to accomplish anything, and it turned out that was for the best because it meant being in the room and not missing the call when my dad's stats started declining rapidly, and it was time to say goodbye. We had all hoped I could get there before that time and had been making plans to travel there for a week as it was, but Dad was too sick. I was able to video into the room to be with my brother and Dad's wife when the staff removed all the tubes from Dad and medicated him so he'd feel no pain or discomfort. About 10 minutes later, he was gone.
This post is dedicated to my dad, not only because he dreamed of visiting Portugal all his life, but because gave me a longing to travel on account of all his travels and living in Germany for a couple years after leaving India. I have a travel bug and spirit of adventure that I accredit to him. While he didn't teach us any of the Indian languages he knew, he also had a knack for learning them, and I can also attribute my love of languages and capabilities at learning them to him, something that has helped me to travel to places I might not have otherwise considered, in addition to giving me the confidence to move to Mexico. Dad's wife will scatter the majority of his ashes elsewhere, but I took a small amount in a jar so that one day I can go back to Portugal to not just enjoy myself properly there without being sick or worried, but also so that I can scatter those ashes there and say, "Here Dad, you finally made it to Portugal."
In Memoriam
Pritpal Gill, February 26, 1946 - February 15, 2023
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