Trip to Portugal 2018

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(Car park near Rosslare)

Tonight we are leaving Ireland for three months. There is one week in March when we have to be in Lisbon but other than that we don’t know where we’re going or when we’ll arrive. What we do know is we are driving via France and northern Spain (although not the exact route) to beautiful Portugal. We will be travelling more slowly than in the past, weather permitting. Previously, we drove like the clappers until we got to Portugal and then slowed right down, but we have come to realise that every bit of the journey (from our front door to the southmost tip of western Europe) is part of the experience and there’s no need to rush any of it. Of course, if the temperature is below zero in France we might feel even amazing French coffee and croissants can’t justify driving slowly through the cold. Although to be honest the van isn’t ever cold. It’s a small space and doesn’t take much energy to make it toasty.

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(I love bunting!)

We travelled to Cork and Cashel last weekend and got a gas cylinder that we can fill up as we travel, the bottle connections we use in Ireland don’t work in the other countries of Europe. We use the gas for cooking and heating so we don’t want to run out. It was also an opportunity to take the camper out on a test run to see what we’d forgotten… It’s really easy to forget what we need when we are in our house. It’s also hard to pack for warmer weather when there’s snow on the ground. In the past I’ve ended up with too many fleeces and too few t-shirts.

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(Happy as a pig in… a messy van)

This will be our third year travelling away from winter in Ireland. We read the same news as you. We stay in contact with our family and friends via mobile phones and computers. We cook dinner (well, Denis does, I wash up!) We watch YouTube videos instead of television. We shop in supermarkets, including Aldi and Lidl! It’s very like living at home except for the view. Some days we wake up in a car park and some days we wake up in a forest. Some days the birds are singing outside, some days waves are crashing, some days there’s rain falling on our roof which always makes us smile. Because the one constant of this way of living is that nothing is the same as it is at home. Surely this rain isn’t the same as the stuff we complain about all the time in Ireland…?

But it is and the thing that makes all the difference is your point of view, Mairead.

Might be driving illegally…?

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(New shoots)

I hope you had a lovely St.Patrick’s Weekend! I made a green shamrock to celebrate but it looks more like a green ace of clubs… and I had a very trying experience purchasing an electronic toll card online. It’s a long and winding story… Like at home there are toll booths and there are free-flowing electronic tolls that read your licence number here in Portugal. When we arrived in February at the town of Chaves we stopped at their electronic toll setup machine for foreigners. There we connected our credit card to our camper van number plate and off we went with our legal receipt. Simple. Easy.

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(New family)

Then on Saturday morning something woke me up early and made me look at the receipt. It was about to expire. It has expired today. No problem, there was a phone number at the bottom of the receipt, I’d ring and extend the validity date. I could handle this. I rang the number and the man who answered spoke perfect English. Perfect enough to make it clear that I could not extend the validity date. But… I could purchase a toll card at the post office on Monday or online anytime.

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(Old day)

Rather than wait until Monday (mistake number one) I went online to purchase the card (mistake number two). There was a very helpful site with Frequently Asked Questions and both the questions and the answers were very helpfully in English. Unfortunately, when I clicked on BUY the card I was linked to the Portuguese Post Office website. I love the Portuguese Post Office. They have patiently sold me stamps and envelopes and delivered (in super quick time) my letters and cards. Nevertheless, I do not like their website. It’s in Portuguese (naturally) and no matter how much I want to believe I could possibly recognise some words I cannot actually recognise any words…

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(Old door)

But you will remember Google Translate? The app on my phone that will translate typed words into English? I was working on this problem for an hour by now and although I was losing the will to live I kept going and eventually I bought the card! Yay! And I successfully connected the card to our licence plate! Yay! Then I proceeded to connect the card to my phone so that I could check the balance and keep it topped up and completely legal while we drove in Portugal.

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(Old cobblestones)

That’s when the post office website changed the language to Spanish… Google translate was giving me some odd translations about monsters and caves. That was my first hint something bad was happening (I thought I was just losing my mind.) And yet I kept going turning the language back to Portuguese while wishing their English language button would suddenly come to life (but no…)

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(Old sign)

I never did get to connect the online card to my phone.. we might possibly be driving around illegally. On top of that there was a message – in English –  on the card: PLACE IT VISIBLY ON (VEHICLE’S) DASHBOARD….  We may have to put the laptop in the windscreen for the rest of our stay in Portugal… somebody forgot to bring the power cord for the printer so we can’t print the card.

Step 13. Always wait until Monday, Mairead.

Broken Shells Calling

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(Friday evening in Furadouro)

I mentioned yesterday that I loved the town of Furadouro and one of the reasons was the beach. Not the sand but the shells. Not the perfectly pretty and complete shells. The broken ones. I had started noticing broken shells on the beach at Vila Chã, I thought they were interesting but not as interesting as the terracotta coloured stones. Then at Lavos Praia there were no terracotta stones but loads and loads of little broken shells.

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(A mix of broken shells and pebbles)

They weren’t everywhere, they seemed to be washed up in a line parallel to the tide line… a broken shell line, but there were so many I couldn’t but notice them. I started picking them up and once I started it was hard to stop, it was like they were calling me. Why would they be calling me?

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(Some of the bigger shells I saved!)

The ones in Furadouro were bigger, the chipping away had only begun, but in time (unless I saved them?) they would be tiny little broken bits. I wonder if shells start off perfectly pretty and complete somewhere up north and they get little pieces chipped off as they travel south, until they are so small they look like sand. I saved a bag full from Furadouro. I think I know why they were calling me…

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(and more…)

When I picked up the first broken shell I was surprised it was so smooth at the broken edge. It was like it had been sanded with sandpaper. Of course it had been sanded with the original sandpaper… sand. That’s why I kept picking them up. They were lovely to hold and to run my finger along the smooth edge. And they reminded me of buttons. I love buttons. But it wasn’t just their button-like feel, I also recognised a human-like feel.

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(…more.)

We start off perfectly pretty and complete and then bits get chipped off and we’re broken. We feel broken. We chip off others. We break others. Everyone we know is broken in some way. But these shells were asking me… Can’t you see how different we are? How very interesting we are? How we are so, so beautiful in our brokenness? I’m bringing a bag of broken beautiful shells home, please let me know if you’d like one to remind you that you are beautiful.

Step 12. Believe it, you are so, so beautiful, Mairead.

Go, go, go. Stop.

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(The Atlantic Ocean at Furadouro)

When I was last talking to you we were in the campsite with the Tubes… and the computer could not be fixed… Well, Monica rang on Friday and said it was ready… she didn’t elaborate so we weren’t sure if it was actually working. But Denis was not deterred, he was ready to take it back no matter what condition… I think this could possibly be a form of unconditional love…? for an inanimate object?

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(Furadouro again)

So off we dashed to Porto. We had planned on parking outside the city at a camper parking place (and getting a bus into the Porto.) When we arrived the camper park was full so we had to drive all the way to the computer repair shop in the middle of the city. The biggest problem about driving in any city is finding a spot big enough to park. The next biggest problem is – driving in a city. Fortunately, it is only a problem for me and as I am not actually driving I kept my eyes mostly closed.

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(Cute houses in Furadouro)

And would you believe when we arrived there was a line of huge parking spaces right outside! We realised they were short-term parking and very expensive (so no one wanted to use them – which was very lucky for us) when we were leaving which was much too late to pay… luck upon luck.

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(The convent/monastery at Tomar)

The computer was fixed! Monica was thrilled to see us go, she had begun to recognise Denis’ phone number when he rang and  even at a distance I could hear the dread in her voice when she picked up the phone and said, “Hello Denis”. So we could finally leave the area of Porto and we had no idea where to go, Monica suggested south along the coast so as it was sunny that’s what we did. We arrived at the seaside town of Furadouro. I loved this place, for some reason it reminded me of a film set or a Disney park…

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(Frescos in the monastery at Tomar)

On Saturday morning we moved further south to a small town with a camper car park beside roundabout. On Sunday morning we moved on to the town of Tomar, I had been there and loved it when I was on my camino walk. Up on the hill above the town are the ruins of an old monastery and convent that were in some way connected with the Templar knights. We spent a few hours here and moved on to the town of Fatima and then onto another small town to stay at the Fire Station where there was a small camper car park.

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(Huge outdoor area in front of the church at Fatima)

We are now in a very nice municipal campsite beside the town of Alcacér do Sal. There’s a lot of birdsong and a supermarket just up the road. There’s a castle in the town so I’m happy to settle down here for a few days and wander towards the castle tomorrow.

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(Our view today… those white blotches are birds who fly into that field and for some reason remain close to the sheep)

Step 11. Make time for rest, Mairead.

Wake up it’s beautiful!

Well, it’s been a wet few days since last Sunday and that’s made it easier to be working away inside the camper on the MindCraft website, which is now up and running – here’s the link. Today is overcast but dry so I’ve had my walk on the boardwalk and I’ve also spotted my first Camino walkers.

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(Not a great photo but that white blob on the guy’s rucksack is a Camino Shell)

One of the things I noticed on the little bit of the Camino I walked (near Lisbon last year) was the amount of cafes/bars/restaurants out in the middle of nowhere that are open and will make you something to eat at any time of the day. The same is true in this area. On my walk today I passed ten little places open for business. I was walking to turn around and walk back so I didn’t stop but I’m dreaming up a plan to go for a walk and stop at as many little cafes as possible along the way. Of course as they sell beer and wine too I’ll be either wired due to the caffeine, sleepy due to the food or singing due to the alcohol.

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(Isn’t that just beautiful?)

We got the go ahead from Monica in Porto, today too, to say that Denis’ computer will be ready tomorrow afternoon. So we’ll be off to Porto in the morning via the taxi and the train. We now know our way around the ticket machine, the train and the map of the city so that’s great right?

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(Perfect little beach on my walk today)

Well, it’s not really, because that’s when I stop noticing things. You know how it is when you go somewhere new and you notice everything. The colours of the houses, the odd tradition of putting tiles outside on the walls, the orange colour of the roofs, the different cars, the funny shaped busses, the new trains, the old trams, the eucalyptus trees, the friendly smiling people, the strange language, the incomprehensible billboard messages, the street signs, the sounds, the smells…

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(How could I ever be blind to this?)

But then as soon as you start to get comfortable and things are a little familiar you stop seeing them. Oh look at that statue, what statue? Of course it’s normal, there are millions and millions of pieces of information bombarding our senses in every moment and our poor brain can only handle a certain amount. So it prioritizes.

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(That bridge (does it remind you of the Eiffel tower?) is the one I am standing on in the photo above)

It prioritizes on the unfamiliar stuff and of course the life-threatening stuff (that tram heading straight for you!) When the unfamiliar stuff becomes familiar our brain says, great one less thing to notice, now I can go back to looking for scary stuff. Thereby missing the beautiful, stuff, sniff, sniff.

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(I love everything in this picture!)

It’s one of the things I love about travelling – I see the beautiful stuff! At home it’s harder to see beautiful stuff because my brain is only looking for life-threatening, beauty just isn’t life-threatening enough to be noticed. It’s part of the backdrop, it’s familiar so it disappears. Porto is beginning to feel like home… so I’m beginning to go blind to the beauty all around me. 

Step 7. Stay awake to the beauty, Mairead.

Sometimes it rains in Portugal…

It’s raining! I know you will be disappointed for me but I’m ok, I have some work to do so it’s probably just as well I won’t be able to sit outside sunning myself… I hear it’s sunny in Ireland!

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(Rocky and a bit cloudy in the distance on Saturday)

My friend Linda (of the tours around Porto) and I ran a workshop called MindCraft at the beginning of February and we’ll be running another one in May and again in June. This week I’m working on explaining what it’s all about for our website. I’ll send you a link as soon as it’s up and running but I thought I could start explaining now to get my thought processes working.

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(Smooth and blue skies on Friday)

MindCraft is a combination of Mindfulness and Crafting in a one day workshop. The Mindfulness part of it is all about staying present with what’s happening around you and within your body instead of the usual things we do. The usual things like  thinking and worrying about the future or thinking and worrying about the past. Or regretting the past or wishing we could repeat it or change it. Or wishing the present could be different. Or wishing we were different. Or wishing other people were different. We sure do a lot of useless thinking when all we really need to do is stay present and aware and deal with what’s right in front of us, right now.

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(There are lots of small gardens like this around here, all dug by hand. In need of rain, I suppose)

Last year when Denis was diagnosed with prostate cancer, everything slowed down to the essential – what do I need to be doing now? I don’t think it’s the big things that cause worry and anxiety… it’s the thinking about what if the big thing happens. In my experience when the big thing does happen you are kinda too busy dealing with it to be thinking about anything.

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(Another one, the small plants look like potatoes, maybe))

Mindfulness is about making us strong enough to deal with whatever life throws at us. So we have a little calm, contentment and the space to think about the important things… love, joy, peace, purpose, relationships, family, connection, community. The crafting is all about creativity and creativity is the route to finding solutions to our challenges. This is important: Thinking and anxiety are not the route to finding solutions to our challenges. Creativity is the route to finding solutions to our challenges, problems, concerns, difficulties, dilemmas, quandaries, troubles, irritants, stumbling blocks, obstacles, the lot! Creative solutions are what it’s all about. Every one of us is creative but not every one of us knows it.  MindCraft wants everyone to know they are creative and that they can come up with their own creative solutions.

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(And another one, I think there’s spring onions there)

So here I sit doing the work I need to do to make the message clear and simple… Mindfulness Strengthens Your Mind, You Are Creative, Creativity Solves Problems!

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(Interesting looking rocks on the beach)

But it’s not enough for me to just make the message clear for myself or others. Writing about mindfulness will not help me to be mindful, thinking about creativity will not help me to come up with creative solutions. So here I sit, also, doing the work of living the message. Everyday I practice mindfulness, I practice noticing what is around me, I practice exchanging worry and anxiety for beauty, I practice exchanging thinking for feeling my feet on the ground, I practice writing and photography and I practice telling myself, this is enough, you are doing enough, you are enough.

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(Behind the harbour buildings there are tables where the women sell the newly caught fish. That’s a cat on the fish scales. Fish weighing scales I mean…)

Step 6. Do the work, Mairead.

Hello again, Fear!

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(The Portuguese town of Chaves)

We have arrived in Portugal! It only took seven days! Yep, I know a lot, right? Last time we talked I’d stopped talking to Fear. Remember? Well it only lasted 24 hours. Here’s what happened…

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(The walk by the river. Can you see the path ahead tunnels through the rock?)

It was a beautiful evening in Entrago so I went for a walk on a pretty path beside the river, the birds were singing, the water was gushing and the sun was shining. I took some pictures for you and then went back to the car park for a dinner of cold pizza and salad. Yum (not really.)

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(The gushing river)

It was very cold next morning when we left, about 2ºC there was even hard frost on the bicycle seats. I was a little concerned that we might have to travel back the road we drove in but no… no, we took a different, far more scary road. Something I hadn’t considered when I thought it might be nice to have a look at the Picos – their altitude! To get a good look you really have to go up and into them… and then some day soon you have to come back up out of them again…

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(That’s us in the car park in Entrago with the snow covered mountains in the background)

Remember last post when I said we could see hundreds of mountains from the car park and some far away mountains had snow on them? Well, it turned out they were not far enough away. We drove to, over and beyond the mountains with the snow on them. Oh yes and I was back talking to Fear.

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(That’s snow… This is a nice wide road, I couldn’t get my hands to stop shaking long enough to take a picture of the not nice narrow road)

Anyways, he told me to blame Denis… And I did. Up on top of one of those mountains with the snow lined roads I asked (out loud and in a very shrill tone) Who’s idea was it to visit the Picos, anyway? Of course everyone knows that I meant: This is completely your fault, Denis! Everyone… except Denis, it seems. As happy as a pig in muck he says, it was you but now is not a good time to be assigning blame, can you clear the condensation from the window I’m finding it hard to see.

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(We stopped at a layby at the bottom of the mountains… we found frost covered orange peel)

Holy Jeepers, he can’t see! I set to the job of clearing the window with enthusiasm. And then I could see.  I saw this magnificent place and I remembered that Fear makes me mean and shrill and cross and stops me seeing the magnificence all around me. I stopped talking to him. Fear, I mean, I stopped talking to Fear, not Denis. I’m talking to Denis.

Step 3. Repeat Step 2, Mairead.

Stop Talking to Fear

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(Very nicely located car park at Entrago)

We left Cangas de Onis this morning and set off for our next home. It’s a small village called Entrago, with a car park in the Picos mountain range that allows camper vans to stay overnight. I am sitting outside in the sun as I write which is very pleasant. There is a breeze but as the sun is a little warmer than I’m used to. All is well.

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(A strange convoy of caterpillars… asking a question?)

When we picked this spot I had no idea we would be travelling through the Picos on route. Probably just as well. Before we set off Denis put the gps location into his sat nav and there was a choice of a shorter route or a longer route… Hmm, something shouted in my head “Take the longer route!” and I think it was Fear… I was more than willing to listen to Fear, but Denis wasn’t…. so we took the shorter route…

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(Some of the Picos)

It was narrow and windy and steep (23% gradient) and I fervently promised to spend more time listening to Fear in the future if he would only make this scary bit better, NOW… he didn’t. I hate Fear.

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(Beautiful Picos)

And then there was a break in the trees and we spotted the most amazing sight. Hundreds of mountains stretching off towards the horizon, the furthest covered in snow. There was no place to stop the van, there was no opportunity to take a picture I just had to enjoy the moment before it passed and try to remember how beautiful it was and how amazing it made me feel. And I was able to stop making promises to Fear and start paying attention to what was passing so quickly all around me. Beauty. It generates a very different feeling. Kinda mushy and kinda strong all at the same time.

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(More Picos)

I had completely made peace with getting no photographic reminders when just ahead we saw a bus (a bus came up that road?!) parked… in a grand big car park! We would be able to stop after all and we did and I got some pictures for you… and for me and for Beauty and there’s none for Fear.

Step 2. Stop talking to Fear… Mairead.

Feeling the Sky

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(Star rising)

I wish I could show you the sky last night. It was the same as the sky above you but maybe you weren’t outside. Or maybe you were busy and you forgot to look up. Anyway, last night the sun started to set at 7.30pm and by 8.30pm I was sitting outside. I thought of taking a picture but they just don’t look the same and anyway it’s the feeling of being outside combined with the looking up that makes the difference and no one’s invented the camera to reproduce that… yet.

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(We are here)

It felt like I was surrounded by a warm blanket, a knitted one that lets the light in, but in small pin holes. The blanket was black and dark black in the places where the trees blocked the sky. Surrounded by the blanket I felt safe and loved. I read somewhere recently the exact amount of time it takes for the light from a star to reach our eyes on earth. I can’t remember the number now but it was big – years and years. I heard that before but a bit like forgetting to look up at the sky I forgot that we live on a small rock in the middle of a huge space…

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(Coffee and cards)

I worry about lots of little things. Like being late for something. Like saying something stupid. Like insulting someone unintentionally. Like doing something that makes people think about me. I never consider that people might be thinking something lovely, I worry that they are thinking something unlovely. The thing is, people rarely think either lovely or unlovely things about others, they mainly think about themselves… like I do when I worry. I worry about big things too. Like the rough seas between Ireland and France. Like the health of my family. Like my children. Like the people who are living in war. Like the people who are escaping war to find peace.

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(Isn’t the postal system great, though?)

But then sometimes I don’t worry and I am not afraid… and when I am not afraid I am like I was sitting outside last night under the sky with the light of billions of stars reaching me on this small rock in the middle of a huge space and all is well. I am at peace. I am loved.

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(Star setting)

I wished I could show you the sky last night so that you would feel at peace and you would know you are loved, Mairead.