Marvão comes in at first position as it dominated our view for four months. Perched on a rock overlooking the golden Alentejo plains, this walled, Moorish town near the border with Spain is as stunning up close as it is from a distance. […]
Where is Portugal’s Costa Vicentina? It seems like a simple question. But the answer isn’t as simple as you might expect. This week, whilst pulling together images for an article we’re writing about hiking in […]
In the last couple of days I’ve read two articles about Lisbon, and watched an episode of the Netflix show Somebody Feed Phil set in Portugal’s classy capital. In two of the three, the information was presented as being by provided by Lisbon experts … […]
The wounds are still gaping red, raw, and very sore. After years of living abroad, it’s too painful for me to talk about Brexit at the moment. No, painful is not the right word at […]
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… […]
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… […]
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. […]
Less than 24 hours later and I wish we’d bought more at the Alentejo supermarket. The madness we’d been reading about in British press reports descends on Portugal. There are queues of shoppers at each till, their trolleys piled high with produce including, of course, multi-packs of toilet paper. […]
My least favourite part of a meal is dessert… unless there is something which awakens the sweet-toothed child that slumbers within. And there regularly is, no matter where we travel around Europe. […]
The Portuguese, like the Spanish, are complimentary when you make an effort, telling us we can speak it well when we rattle of a few stock phrases when we’re appalling. […]
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