Musings on Portugal – May 2012

We came, we were stunned by beauty, we were gently tanned, and then we left Portugal with three out of four of us medicated; all of these experiences combined to make Portugal an unforgettable stop.

As for the beauty, despite having spent five days driving along the southern coast visiting towns (Quarteria, Olhao, Tavira) and beaches recommended by various travel books, we never did surpass the stunning scenery found at Zambujeira do Mar, our first stop along the western coast. (Pictured above.)

Indeed, most of the towns along the western coast are still towns (as opposed to the condo-infested cities found along the southern coast) but you have to be prepared to suffer a language chasm, unless, of course, you speak Portugese.  Everyone is friendly and willing to mime (or in the case of one night at a restaurant, display) your options but there are reasons most tourists take their holidays along the southern coast:    Hop down to Luz, Lagos, and cities further east and you will find multi-lingual staff, menus and, in our case, doctors and veterinarians.

Thus we learned an important part of living on the road in Europe:  If you think you might be in need of some professional help, head to the touristy areas.  The British, Germans and Dutch have done a great job creating a beach head for the rest of us.  (SP and I have often found that traveling behind the British will often land you in the lap of luxury—the Victoria Falls Hotel in Zimbabwe being a prime example.)

There is no doubt that times are difficult in Portugal right now.  The over-building of vacation homes and condos along the southern coast, many of which now stand empty, is a sad reminder of the affluence, overabundance and eventual decline that we left behind in California.   But the country feels on the cusp of recovery; and in order to ensure the success, communities should band together and start trash collection days, over-paint the graffiti and collect and neuter all the stray dogs.  The government cannot be the answer; there is not a large enough tax base to support more services.  

And there you have it:  My first International Soap Box. 

Don’t get me wrong, there are gems in Portugal, particularly for the caravan traveler:  The aforementioned Zambujeira do Mar where you will be welcomed at the nicely appointed Campismo Zambujeira do Mar, and the sparkling and restive Touriscampo in Luz were not only delightful but also doubled the nights allowed under our “pitch fee” budget; at €18 per night for a full service pitch we almost stayed at the Touriscampo forever.

Finally, if you thought there were great real estate deals in California, you should check out Portugal:  A two bedroom condo in a gated community with a golf course, tennis club and health spa is available for €150,000.  Price negotiable.

-K

PS:  As for who is medicated?  You know about SP’s return of Graves.  The other two medicated troops were myself with an over the counter remedy for [what I am calling] Hercules’ Revenge and Rosco with his ear drops.  Undoubtedly you do not want to hear any more of my issues, but Rosco had a foxtail stuck in his ear so far the [fantastic staff and] veterinary at Lagos Veterinary Clinic had to completely knock him out in order to dig it out.  So he is on an anti-inflammatory and an antibiotic and, poor guy, had a little trouble recovering from the ordeal.  He is 12 after all and those drugs hit him rather hard.  River sniffs his ear on occasion and has allowed him to sleep in the “good” bed.  Temporarily, of course.

DITL - Amado Beach Hike, PT - May 13, 2012

Finally uploaded our next Day in the Life video (a strong enough Internet connection is difficult to come by.)  Start a day like we do (with a Nose in your face) and follow us on a gorgeous beach side hike.


The pictures are much more beautiful than the cover thumbnail . . . I didn't care for any of the three YouTube options.  If someone knows how to get YouTube to select more thumbnails, please let me know!

In other news, we have stopped for however long in the gorgeous area of Guejar Sierra, Spain, just outside the Sierra Nevada National Park.  Full hook-up site in a lovely mountain setting.  More on that later!


-K

Musings on Coming Home

(No, that's not Portugal - that is Salt in our very first pitch of the Aventura just outside of Laguna Beach, CA, August 31, 2011.)

We wondered when this day would come; the day when the pain of shipping everything over pales in comparison to the prospective joy of being home.  

Although we are still thinking the return day is five or six months away, we have stopped telling people that we will be doing this for “a year or two, we have no plans” and instead have begun talking to each other about what our future looks like back in the USA. 

I am not sure when it started, I did have that bout of homesickness upon arrival in Portugal, but I thought I had put it to rest.  We could blame it on our British neighbors here at Touriscampo:  They have been gone from England for eight months (“well, we fly home every six weeks or so to visit”—so unfair!) and are returning home within thirty days.  Two sets of them.  And it sounds so easy to just hop on a ferry, drive a few miles and be done. The enormity of shipping everything back makes me want to get started on it right now.  (Once an “A” type, always an “A” type.)  Although I am quite sure it will be much easier the second time around.

There is more to it than homesickness.  Undoubtedly we are fortunate to be able to take this time to discover new countries in a way you just don’t get to experience when you are only here for a week or two.  But the elongated time away has also provided a different perspective on home:  We now see the importance of living in a community where you feel safe, valued and integral.  I am not sure we have found that community yet; that will be part of our journey when we reach the US once again, and the start of that process is driving a lot of our desire to return.  

Truth be told, we have discovered that this life, as interesting as it can be, is often quite one-dimensional.  There is not enough intellectual stimulation (I can only practice my French so often) nor is there enough competitive stimulation.  (Alas, SP refuses to play chess with me—something I think would solve two issues at once!)  I miss club tennis and, (here it comes) the thrill of demo’ing software (not to mention the paycheck.)  We both miss having interests outside of each other, The Noses, and the worry of something breaking down.

So now we have something to discuss when we are bored with our in-between stops, as we are experiencing right now.  Still in Luz, Portugal, waiting for the doctor’s clearance to head to Spain for some hiking in the Sierra Nevada Mountains. 

The new time constraint, however arbitrary, is forcing us to determine where we want to focus our attention.  We will be spending time in Spain, France, Switzerland, Italy, and Slovenia (because so many people have recommended it) and hopefully Austria, Montenegro and Croatia before heading home.  But that is quite a list and quite a bit of driving in five to six months.  We used to think every country in Europe was so close together, but when your gaze lands first on the petrol prices, the countries appear much farther apart.

As to where to land on US soil?  That is indeed the million dollar question.  Given the time of year (winter) and our past experience in the snow, it will likely be on one of the sunnier sections of the country. 

-K

Quarteria & Vilamoura, PT – May 16-18, 2012

More pictures here!

Those of you paying close attention to the Tweets and posts, might be wondering why this posting isn’t titled, “Boondocking on a Portugese Beach.”  We had every intention of spending two nights out in a parking lot adjacent to a gorgeous beach, but I chickened out.  For one thing, there is a high level of unemployment in Portugal and I didn’t feel the need to parade Salt & Pepper by the folks who just might be camping in the lot because they have no choice.  Plus, after spending a day at the beach and returning home to a nice, long shower, I realized I didn’t want to give that up; and boondocking requires a certain, shall we say, restraint in the personal hygiene area.  So I apologized to SP for being a wimp and I suggested we head down the coast in hopes of fulfilling our beach needs with a caravan park close to a dog-friendly shore.

Even with that exciting goal, it was terribly difficult to leave the wonderful service and comforts of Touriscampo in Luz, but this really wouldn’t be much of an Aventura log if we stayed in one spot for the rest of our lives. So we checked the tire pressure, packed, hitched up Salt and headed east along the southern coast to Quarteria.

This will not surprise many of you:  SP and I find it hard to engage people in conversations.  Both being naturally shy and independent, our discomfort at reaching out undoubtedly leads to us missing out on some good advice.  Not last week though!    We engaged our British neighbor one evening at Touriscampo, asking if he had any experience down in Olhao, which was to be our next destination.  He had, and mentioned that it was a nice town and caravan park, but if you like beaches, you have to take a ferry across to an island.   Since beach going was our goal for the next few days, the addition of the ferry did not sound appealing.  Nothing says Headache quite like the combination of Dogs, Cooler, Backpacks, Umbrellas, Chairs and Ferry.  Thankfully our neighbor then mentioned Quarteria; a great spot for its miles of beaches but the caravan park (with a pause here as he searched for the right words), “Didn’t have as nice an ambiance as Touriscampo.”  Hmmm.  We should have asked him for further information but, to paraphrase Renee in Jerry Maguire, he had us at Beaches.  We were off to Quarteria—even if we stayed only one night.

It was a short drive, but a hot day and having not towed Salt for a while we were ready for it to be over when we pulled into the Orbitur site.   This was our second attempt at an Obitur site and, much like the first one, the appearance from the front is rather more like a low-security prison than a caravan park.  If it wasn’t for being hot and tired, we would have kept on going.  But we drove around, found an awful pitch, parked, unhitched and walked to the beach.  The beach, indeed, is miles long with soft inviting waves—I could hardly wait to get in the water.  I tested the temperature and, as promised, it was much warmer than the Atlantic coast.

With the beach being so lovely, we decided to stay additional days despite the lackluster park.  Back at the park, we completed a foot survey and opted to upgrade to a deluxe pitch (an additional €2/day) so as to have water and a dump area close at hand (they are both shared between two pitches.)  We hitched back up and moved Salt on down to the weed infested, not-nearly level, dirt pitch and poured a strong sundowner.

We enjoyed the beach as much as we could (one day proved too windy to sustain a relaxing experience) and swimming in the water was a delight.  But don’t come here for the town atmosphere:  It is quite awful.  Thankfully, after striking up a conversation with two Irish travelers at lunch (see how much better we are getting?) we learned of Vilamoura, an upscale touristy town just a mile or so west.  So we spent an afternoon there, me taking advantage of the nice boutiques and buying a new bathing suit then, while enjoying a beer and gazing at the marina, discussed how that opulent lifestyle no longer seemed to be our style. 

Except of course, for the bathing suit.

-K

Amado Beach, Carrapateira, Portugal – May 13, 2012

More pictures here!

As I have previously noted, some days are just so perfect they deserve their own blog posting.  Yesterday proved just such a day:  What started out as a last ditch effort to hike without driving all the way back to Zambujeira do Mar, turned into a delightful day on the beach—with some hiking, of course.

First a little background:  I had read that Portugal is no place for hiking.  It seems the locals don’t even understand why someone would want to strap on a backpack and hot, heavy hiking boots just to head off into the hills.  Not to be deterred, we purchased a hiking trail map of the Algarve and set out, on two different occasions, to hike.  We never did find the starting point of the first one and the other, although there was an initial sign indicating that you are indeed on a trail, proved just as fruitless:  All we could see were train tracks and a dirt road leading into a small town.  Having sharpened our hiking senses on the wilderness trails in California, hiking on a dirt road, or train tracks, and through towns just doesn’t ring our bell. 

But remember the Rota Vincentina trail we discovered outside of Zambujeira do Mar?  It was time to locate its southern-most jumping off point.  The plan was, with SP still not 100%, to find a beach where I could drop him under a sun umbrella and hit the trail with the Noses.   Unfortunately, the most southerly point of the trail is around the Sao Vicente lighthouse which we had already visited and I deemed too touristy for my day of adventure.  So we opted for the second most southerly point, just outside the town of Carrapateira.  To my dismay, none of our street maps could locate the road from the town to the trail head. So we set Snoopy to Carrapateira center and hoped to see signs for a beach before any signs of frustration.

Lady luck was indeed shining on us!  Just outside of town there was a sign to Amado Beach, so we turned onto a narrow but paved road and headed across the rolling hills, glimpsing, on occasion, the vast blue of the ocean just beyond.  At the end of the road we discovered a large parking lot, two cafes and a gorgeous beach complete with dogs running free.  We schlepped our stuff down, set SP under the umbrella and The Noses and I set off for our hike.

It was an incredibly hot day; well over 80, even at the beach.  So I was tempted to stop after only a quarter of a mile when, dripping with sweat, I was startled by a snake slithering across the path.  A pretty snake for sure, mostly blue, but big (three feet) and skinny (which I immediately interpreted as “hungry”.)  But I had put so much work into locating the hike that I took a deep breath, waited until he was under rocky outcropping, and ran like mad right on by. 

What a reward!  The views back along the beach were wonderful and The Noses, off leash for the first time in a long time, were thrilled—for 40 minutes.  At 40 minutes, they had decided it was time to head back to the cooling ocean waters.   Having attained my first goal of hiking out to the next highest point along the southern route, I gave the command to head home. 

Right, if only that were true.  There really is no such command.  Basically, it is me deciding to turn around since The Noses had already headed back down toward the sea.  Once on the sand, there was no stopping Rosco as he raced directly into the shallow waves.  River, who was wiped out by a wave in Laguna and has never quite recovered, would only get her paws wet.  But then I discovered a tidal pool area and, with Rosco swimming around in his own private lake, River finally decided to wade in up to her stomach.

Back at the umbrella, SP was ready with some Sangria and a picnic lunch.  Eventually we worked up the nerve to go into the water.  It was as frigid as promised on this [Atlantic] coast but, once you could breathe again, felt oh so refreshing.  A feeling we ardently missed upon our return to Salt.

As hot as it was at the beach, it was nearly 100 degrees back at camp and as still as death.  Indeed, driving up to our pitch, with everyone passed out on their lawn chairs, heads lolling to one side, and empty water jugs blowing around, it looked a bit like death.  We were sorry we had left the beach.  So sorry, in fact, that by 8:30 at night, when it was still stifling, we returned to our favorite local beach-side restaurant for some champagne Sangria and whole grilled fish.  With French fries. 

It is never too hot for French fries.

-K

PS:  A special note for Jay (and any other avid readers out there):  The book I was trying to remember at our lovely dinner in Austin was The Known World, definitely in my Top 10.  I have read two others recently that rank close, A Winter in Madrid by C.S. Sansom, and Wish You Were Here by Graham Swift.  I selected both novels for their European setting but both are memorable for how the protagonists choose to live.  Or not to live, you be the judge.

Western Algarve, Portugal, Week 2 - May 10, 2012

More pictures here!

Our second week in one spot was full of discoveries:  One disappointing, one quite stunning and one old acquaintance who re-discovered us.

On our hottest day so far (well above 80/25), we decided to head to Luz beach.  Packing the hot Noses into the hot Pepper we set off with backpacks full of water and towels.  Parking was easy due to it being the low season but we still had to lug all our belongings out to the sand where we were met by two gentlemen who, I assumed, were there to offer us chaise lounges and umbrellas.  Disappointingly, they offered instead that dogs were not allowed on the beach.  Yes, this is the same beach on which we had been running around with The Noses before—even off leash.  To be honest, I had seen the sign, a silhouette of a dog with a red circle around it, but as the design did not include slash through the middle I thought dogs were allowed.   Well, that is what I told myself; but I was getting quite good at ignoring signs, as will soon be evidenced.

Being down at the beach on such a hot day what else could we do but retire to the deck of a beach-side restaurant and enjoy a pitcher of Sangria?  The addition of a fresh fruit salad, some French fries, and The Noses contentedly asleep under the table combined to make it a perfect afternoon. 

Prior to our beach day, we had driven out to the western edge of continental Europe.  Our exploration took us out to the lighthouse at Sao Vicente where we gazed in wonder first up the western edge of Portugal then, by walking about 200 yards, up the eastern edge.  It was an odd sensation and I found myself thinking about the explorers who had once stood at the edge of their known world only to jump on a ship and sail to [what they hoped would be] a new land.  #brave as they would say on Twitter.

And last, but certainly not least, a reappearance of an old ailment caught up with us.  Alan and I had both been ignoring the signs indicating a return of his Grave’s disease.  (Graves is an easily treated thyroid condition, not serious if you stay on top of it, but it puts an incredible amount of stress on the heart, so dealing with it quickly is important.)  The disease had gone into remission about a year ago but it was clearly back; he couldn’t exercise without becoming dizzy, he was losing weight without effort, and he was anxious and twitchy.  (The first didn’t bother me at all but the second and third symptoms vied for first place in the “Irritating to Kit” category--and people say the world doesn't revolve around me.)

So we contacted Alan’s doctor in the US who faxed us a blood work order and then we found an English speaking (and Oxford educated) doctor in Luz who could see him the same day.  SP went in, they drew blood, we returned in three hours and the diagnosis was confirmed.  Luckily, Alan had recorded the drugs that had worked the first time around and, even more fortunate, the same drug is available in Portugal.   The dosages are tricky due to the impact on his heart so we are staying close to the Luz doctor for a few days and then returning to Luz in two weeks for a follow-up.  After this, we’ll carry a letter from the Luz doctor and have to stop and get his blood tested every so often.  My Mom will be happy to read that Morocco is now off the General Plan.

It is frightening having a health issue so far from home;  I can attest to this after contacting viral meningitis in Peru (and dealing with a doctor who knew only five words in English, “I give you two injections!”) as well as dealing with severe altitude sickness on Kilimanjaro.  (I offered to hunt down a mutilated animal carcass to hang on the back of Salt’s door in memory of my day “resting” in a hut on the side of Kilimanjaro, alas, SP declined.)  But SP is holding up well and we already see indications that the medication is working.

Some of you are surely wondering about our health care insurance situation, it is not pleasant and a major reason that the US, when gazed at from afar, doesn’t appear to be a welcome place to return.  In a nutshell, before leaving we tried to get on the same plan that SP had from Sage Software but Blue Cross denied us coverage because of pre-existing conditions (apparently, the fact that they covered us during those issues didn’t matter when switching from a group plan an individual plan.)  Going on COBRA would have cost us over $1,000/month for insurance.  So we have opted to buy an international, emergency only plan for our time overseas, paying out of pocket for any other items that might come up. And the tally? . . . 

Alan’s visit to the doctor, including an EKG, blood work, two consultations and a blood pressure monitor to take home, all came to only $500 USD.  Less than what a hospital back home would have charged Blue Cross for just an EKG.  The drugs were even better:  $10 – less than our co-pay for the same drugs back home.  And people wonder why some Americans are upset with the health care situation in the States. 

Ouch!  I just fell off my soap box.  Must be time to work on my tan.

-K 

Luz, Portugal – Update May 5, 2012

This might be our first week in one spot since we set out eight months ago (if you don’t count the two months we thoroughly enjoyed outside of Salt in Ingleside on the Bay, Texas.)  We did stay a week in French Camp back in California, but we changed pitches half way through, so I am not sure that counts.  None the less, we have snuggled into our sunny pitch here outside of Luz and have accomplished some major goals:

1)   I survived my first wave of home-sickness.  (I think it’s all the beaches, but if I see stunning 40-somethings playing tennis I might have a relapse.)

2)   I paid over $600 for (what should have been free) warranty repair on my Sony Vaio (shipping from UK to US, $150, Shipping from US to Portugal, $150, customs duties [I know, I know, not fair but they just wouldn’t listen to reason], $300, not investigating alternatives:   Priceless.)

3)   The Noses are washed and brushed with nails clipped.

4)    One giant laundry load has dried on the line despite the thunderstorms.

5)   We have received, and SP has installed, our replacement window for Salt; I will miss the plexiglass one, it was such a good reminder of how handy SP is.

6)   I baked my first international loaf of bread and, I have to say, I haven’t had bread with such a great texture since we last indulged at Brussels Bistro in Laguna (this despite having traveled through France!)  Too bad I don’t write down what I put in each time . . . I can only hope to duplicate my efforts at some later date.

7)   Speaking of baking; SP baked a chocolate cake, complete with home-made frosting, just because I had a craving and he loves me very much.  Or maybe it was because he wanted to upstage his window installation.  Or maybe he wanted to upstage my bread.  For whatever reason, I am incredibly grateful and at least five pounds heavier.

8)   We have seen way too many Germans walking around in their underwear.

9)   We have only seen one, but it was plenty, giant German bra drying on the line.  (One of the Germans is posting right now, “We have seen six, and it was six too many, brightly colored Victoria Secret thongs drying on the line.”)

10) We have run on the beach with The Noses.

11) We tried another new fish, a Dora- something, cooked to perfection by SP.  (That’s what I’m talking about:  Handy!)

12)  We spent a morning helping to locate a lost French boy, our assistance being rewarded later in the evening when the reunited family presented us with a box of chocolates.  (The boy had been sent to take out the trash and, upon returning, entered the wrong bungalow [there are rental bungalows here, all of which look almost exactly alike.]  Not seeing his family, he went into a bedroom and set about playing his handheld Nintendo while he waited for them to return.  He was found by the actual bungalow occupants [who had been dining on their front patio and missed his entrance] but not until after the local police had been summoned.)  The chocolates, French milk with peanuts, were fantastic.

13)  And last but not least, we packed away our Extreme Cold Clothing!!!

-K

RV West Article by Kit - May 2, 2012

Fortunate enough to get into print again!  This time a recap of our wonderful days in the Wilderness Areas around Yosemite, CA, USA:


RV West Article

Western Algarve, Luz, Portugal - Apr. 29 - ?

A couple more pictures here!


Now that we have arrived in the famed Algarve region, I can say what I have read is true:  The coastline east of Luz is covered with beach-front apartments and condos.  That is the unfortunate side of this location.  The fortunate part (and one for which I am ashamedly grateful) is the ability to speak English in every shop is clearly a job requirement.  Indeed, we haven't seen so many Great Britain's since leaving The Island.  


We knew travel would become more difficult when we reached countries in which we didn't speak the language, but we clearly were not prepared for how alienating it is.  Not being sure what type of milk you are buying just adds to the adventure (and occasionally the waistline) but when that same processes happens at the meat counter, well, let's just say we don't feel quite so adventurous.  In this popular Algarve region, not only do the clerks speak English (making you feel confident that you are indeed not buying a pig's head) but you are likely to find your favorite foods (a Betty Crocker Devil's Food Cake Mix will likely land in our shopping cart soon.)


We had a couple of requirements for our first Algarve base camp; it must be a location where we'd like to stay for at least a week and it must have a WIFI service.   The first option, an Orbitur camping spot in Sagres, had a very unappealing location; although the beaches that far west are uncluttered with condos, the geography was not very interesting and the park itself looked uninviting. Due to the larger than normal waves, the beaches on this western tip are a surfing mecca so Salt was quite at home with all the VW Vans, receiving more waves and "surf's up" signals than we have since leaving California.


But not liking the campground enough we continued to option number two; driving another 20 minutes east to Luz where we were immediately happy with the clean appearance of the Camping Touriscampo Bungalow Park.  Like most of our stops, this is a caravan park (RV park) versus a campground, but it has a nice rustic feel once you are back in the pitches, a lovely swimming pool and, most important, a decent WIFI connection.


We'll be busy with some hikes in the mountains, visits to the beach (although the thunderstorms are still around so sun time comes and goes-- for which my pasty white skin is thankful) and maintenance on Salt.  Our plan is to remain in this Western part for a couple of weeks then try out the eastern side of Faro, down by Tavira for a few weeks before heading back north in June or July . . . or . . . hey, life is good in southern Portugal.


(Knowing now what we left behind in Zambujeira [the uncluttered and gorgeous coastline], we will likely return there for a longer stay when the time comes to head north.)


I cannot sign off without a special shout-out "Giant Thank You" to our connections:  Mobom & Bob for my laptop return; Delores for our mail; and Airstream UK for our new window.  This life would be impossible if not for a strong network of support back home.  I hope at least one of us has some stock in FedEx.


-K


PS:  Jay, we actually are bringing out the P90X again!