getting lost – Travel stories

2018 5

(Yesterday morning I had to cross this scary bridge, it goes over two dual carriageways! I sang Christmas songs to myself to stop me closing my eyes and lying down. I went back today to take pictures for you.. you’re welcome)

I am having a ball at my workshop! Can’t find a way to write about it yet because there are so many things to write. So what I do when I have too much choices I set boundaries… I’m only going to talk about getting to my workshop for today. Well I got there, that’s the best bit. I did get lost… and while I was lost the data on my phone wasn’t working so I couldn’t find myself…

2018 6

(It’s very high, trucks go under it))

That’s when I invoked one of the gods – the god of Portuguese cafes (note: not a real god). He lives behind the most unattractive of exteriors, so be prepared. If you see a beautiful or pretty or plastic perfect cafe – that’s not the place. Choose a cafe you think is closed or old and wrinkled or dark and uninviting. That’s where he lives. I found him when I couldn’t find myself.

2018 2

(Potentially a perfect home for the god of Portuguese cafes, unfortunately it’s not a cafe)

I had a choice. On one corner there was a shiny new lovely looking cafe. On the opposite corner there was an old and shabby cafe. The lady behind the counter was busy but eventually she spotted little lost me and gave me that pained quizzical look we all give to someone we don’t understand. I used to be afraid of that look, now I am in awe that someone is curious enough to wonder what it is I’m saying. I was saying big coffee and pastry. She worked it out.

2018 3

(When I got here I found myself)

Then I sat with my coffee and pastry at a table with god (note: do not be afraid there’s nothing weird going on here… probably) and I opened my detailed paper map. It’s a great map, I could see exactly where the workshop venue was which made me hopeful but I could not see where I was. I opened my phone, google didn’t know where I was either. God said (note:see previous note…) drink your coffee and eat your nata, it’s all going to be fine-ish. I drank my very good coffee and ate my very good nata.

2018 1

( I got lost on the way home too, but if I hadn’t I would have missed this: a street that seems too narrow to drive up… that have no fear)

I paid the lady as I was leaving and had an idea to ask her if she might un-lost me. She looked at my map, she looked at me, then she said some old magic words (she might have been invoking god too… or it could have just been Portuguese) and she pointed down the road. You know I’m still not sure if she knew where I was going but she pointed me in the right direction. She did. I found my way.

Kind stranger ✔ Mairead.

P.S. Denis says I need a disclaimer… DISCLAIMER. DISCLAIMER: please be advised that we take no responsibility for the result you get when following the choosing a cafe suggestion above…

(This is a close up…. I was at least 100 meters away)

We’ve been moving around a lot lately, it seems, in search of warm dry weather. We moved from Castro Verde to Porto Covo – think Ballycotton in April, it was a bit grey with showers of rain and sleet and gale force winds. Then we moved just down the road to Vila Nova de Milfontes, where the weather was better (it was better everywhere, we just happened to be there.) That’s where I got lost trying to find the post office and the cobblers.

(Stormy Porto Covo)

I’ve brought a lot of clothes on this trip… but all I needed was a fleece (warm) and boots (warm and rain proof.) The boots had begun to object from over use – the sole had separated from the upper and was starting to trip me up. I asked the lady at reception and she was delighted to show me where to go. On the map. Turns out I’m not good with maps…

(The blue and white is very Porto Covo)

But I love maps. I love to know exactly where I am… and how to get to somewhere else. It comes from my childhood. Our Dad taught my brother and me how to read a map and how to give directions to the numerous tourists visiting out town. He ran the local petrol station and we earned money working there during our teenage years We had strict instructions when giving Americas directions not to send them on the wrong road to Kilkenny. Send them on the main road, they like big roads and they won’t get lost. I remember often explaining to people who really wanted to go on the small road that they wouldn’t like it!

(Not the cobblers. The river Mira flowing into the Atlantic Sea. Hello M(o)ira!)

Anyway, I went in (completely) the wrong direction and found myself with a beautiful view. I found the cobblers the next day and with the help of one of his friends I got the message across that my sole needed gluing and he got the message across that it would be ready in the afternoon.

(Shout out to my brother who is doing a triathlon called (I think) The Power of a Torn Knee. My sister-in-law sent me this photo of him, doing some training. Go Lar!)

Sometimes it’s good to get lost, Mairead.