Autumn in Portugal, The Seasonal Wheel Turns
Like a living barometer, you don’t need a calendar here on the farm to tell you when the seasons are changing, the animals do that for you … […]
Like a living barometer, you don’t need a calendar here on the farm to tell you when the seasons are changing, the animals do that for you … […]
One such article on Portuguese website Portugaldenorteaasul, titled 11 things tourists should never do in Portugal hooked me in. After three years of getting to know Portugal, I wondered how these ‘things not to do’ would compare with our experiences. […]
Something catches my eye, movement by the water line about 200 metres to my right, on the far bank of the river. Squinting into the sun, I see what looks like the torso of a large man hauling himself out of the river, dragging his withered legs behind him… […]
My favourite part of the hotel was the kitchen, a volatile place where big personalities added expletives and threats to an air filled with the aroma of uninventive dishes destined for the unadventurous palates of coach excursionists from England. […]
The issue is not one of whether these Spanish desserts are good or bad in their own right. It’s only by comparison with the desserts of other nationalities that you can really judge just how good a dish is… […]
I like the thought of cycling that involves effortless pedalling along flat country lanes passing rows of vines, or alongside a gently rolling river, the warm sun kissing my face; a soft breeze caressing glowing skin; a bottle of wine, loaf of fresh bread, and a round of cheese in the wicker basket… […]
A year ago to the day Andy and I sat on the terrace of a shepherd’s hut on a plateau in Slovenia whilst I tucked into a bowl of gruel otherwise known as buckwheat mush and sour milk. Why? Because it was there… […]
Our quest to find the ideal place to live, combined with missions to create Slow Travel holidays, took us from the honey-coloured coastline of the wilder side of the Algarve to the verdant valleys of the Minho in the north, and from living beside a smugglers’ trail in Alentejo’s ‘beyond the back of beyond’ border country to a small farm next to a cork forest in the Setúbal Peninsula… […]
Intriguing earthy, red-brick spires and towers almost camouflaged against a matching rock-face catch our eyes as we shoot past at 120kph. The town, mostly hidden in a gully, has been little more than glimpsed. But it’s enough of a taster to have me commenting “that looks like an interesting place” […]
We drove through three countries, from Portugal’s Atlantic coast to Provence, not only switching from stuttering along in one language to another, but trying to figure out what COVID-19 restrictions applied where. […]
In these open hills there are no other people, most folk wouldn’t dream of walking when temperatures are predicted to hit the upper 30s, but there is an abundance of life. Ignoring us as we sit in the meagre shade of a human-sized cairn are wild Garrano horses. […]
In the words of the great Jim Morrison, people are strange… or they can be when it comes to food. As well as having very contrasting likes and dislikes, folk have very personal foibles, all of which makes recommending restaurants somewhat of a lottery. […]
It’s so incessantly hot I feel as though I’ve sprung a leak somewhere on the crown of my head. This is what real heat feels like, and it’s only the end of May. […]
The idea of not unpacking the suitcase in a hotel room just doesn’t make sense to me. It conjures scenes of ugly chaos and inefficiency. Clothes strewn across a room seem no different to me than litter on the roadside […]
I saw the phrase ‘meat and two veg’ the other day, coincidentally as I was uploading photos of our lockdown meals which most definitely were not of the meat and two veg variety. For some reason it jumped out at me, and for the first time I realised what a curious thing it is. […]
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