When we arrived to the apartment in November 2024, we found one knife in the utensil drawer. We came to affectionately refer to it as The Portuguese Knife (A Faca Portuguesa).
It was a deeply dark rainy night, the town was deserted and all I could think of was: what have I done? We arrived the day before with two bewildered cats in tow and duffle bags stuffed with mostly warm weather clothing. We had at least 364 more days in this adventure.
In the last blog post, I promised a tale of adventure. And as we headed to the little town of Viana do Castelo in the north, I felt like a contestant on The Amazing Race. After a plane ride, enduring a 9 hour multi-country power outage, and then finding transportation for the final leg, I received the detour card.
Páscoa no Algarve (Easter in the Algarve) is quite a bit different than in America. Sure, Lindt chocolate bunnies are found in the grocery stores but the Easter Bunny is not really that prominent here. What does stand out are the folares.
I have never given much thought about storks. I suppose like many other people, I conjure up an image of a lanky bird in flight with a bundle of joy in its its beak. Now I see storks on a regular basis -- their nests are enormous and their flight majestic to watch.
Our primary means of transportation has been a pé e de bicicleta. When we moved here, we thought the trains were more frequent but if you look at timetable, you'll see that there is often only one train every hour or two. What to do?
Portugal really treats you as an adult by trusting you with rather large things. Road work with a big open trench? They put up a tiny barrier trust you not to fall in. There's a lesson to learn here - I pinky promise!