Portugal

With holiday lights turning on at the end of November, it felt like a continuous party. But by the end of the year, I started to feel like a limp strand of lights with a few bulbs that flicker.

Presépios are everywhere, threaded through towns like a quiet current, easy to miss if you’re rushing.They appear in wool and wood, shaped by traditions the Algarve knows by heart.

December arrived already glistening and visions of storybook Christmas markets begin to dance in our heads.

This time last year, we had been here just over a week. Back then, the Christmas decorations were being staged but not yet officially unveiled. This year felt different. I blinked and, almost overnight, a switch flipped — Christmas Mode: Enabled.

Novembro has been muito bem, made up mostly of everyday life — expressive sunrises, rainy-day projects, and wandering the town after the storms. A handful of small moments opened like little doorways, leading us into the kind of low-key adventures that make the month feel full. Pequenas aventuras e grandes calmarias.

A year in, Tavira feels both new and known. We came with three duffel bags, two confused cats, and no real sense of how quickly this place would weave itself into our days. Now the rhythm is set — tides, sunlight, chestnuts, and choral echoes drifting through the square. The light keeps changing, but the wonder hasn’t dimmed.

Coming up on a year of living in Tavira, this is the title that resonates most with me. More often lately, I feel like someone out of their element —…

Some weeks fall neatly into routine; others swirl into motion — visitors arriving, fairs spinning, and the moon rising full over it all. This one was a little of everything: family, food, early mornings, and the small rhythms that somehow keep it all together.

This week we found ourselves both under and above the water. Sous vide at an anniversary dinner meant slowly cooked in a water bath — elegant, precise, and not exactly us. The very next day, we were floating in the warm salt pans of Castro Marim, coated in mud and baking under the Algarve sun. Two very different kinds of immersion, both memorable in their own way.

The Algarve really only has two seasons: summer and winter. Right now, we’re in winter — even if the calendar (and the temperature) suggest otherwise. Here, it’s not the weather that defines the season, but ferry timetables and restaurant hours. When the ferries switch to “winter mode” and favorite spots limit themselves to lunch service, that’s when you know: summer has officially ended.