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 … […]
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… […]
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. […]
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. […]
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. […]
Without leaving the house, apart from essential grocery shopping, we’ve managed to find ourselves the victims of fake news in a national paper in the UK. […]
The depths of winter (i.e. now) in central Portugal is a yin and yang affair. Warm enough to eat lunch al fresco in the midday sunshine, as cold as my home island of Bute in Scotland at night. […]
This is how the discussion went: “Let’s give up everything an move to Totnes.” “Why not go the whole nine yards and move abroad… somewhere like Sri Lanka.” And then we ended up in the destination at the end of many discerning travellers’ noses – Tenerife. […]
The season has changed. This hit home on Friday in the supermarket where there was a distinctly different vibe. People were dressed in full on summer uniform. There were telling empty places on the shelves where boxes of Sagres beer and sacks of BBQ briquettes should be. […]
After 14 years in the Canary Islands we already knew about the important difference between Britain’s centrally heated houses and ones in (mostly) warmer climes with little or no heating. But we still weren’t prepared for the temperature drop between the Canaries and central Portugal. […]
Coffee and a bowl of fruit (bananas from Madeira, mango and pineapple from former Portuguese colonies, local cherries which are just at the end of their season) are eaten on the back terrace in the company of two black cats who look as sleepy as we do… […]
From internet speeds to where to buy cream for mossie bites, these are some of the important aspects of living abroad we’d want to know the answers to about any potential destination. […]
It is 46C. My phone pings with warnings from the Portuguese Met Office about there being an extreme risk of fires. We will eat lunch outside, huddling under the shade of an umbrella which only […]
For months we’ve lived at the end of a dirt track, in this lovely quinta with its enormous iron gates, always turning right beyond them, back along the dusty, rutted track to reach the road. Today we turn left, and I think of Jean Ainslie… […]
The clanging of bells as goats made their way to their daytime pasture was our alarm call in the morning; a mixed chorus of song from golden orioles, bee-eaters and azure-winged magpies serenaded us over breakfast under a grape covered arbour; […]
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