The end of the world

May 2, 2023 | Mairead

We travelled to the edge of the known world on Friday, Sagres. Well the known world before the Americas were discovered. And that might never have happened without Prince Henry the Navigator. Prince Henry grew up in the 1400’s. He was also the Duke of Viseu, remember where I left my bag in the cafe? Born in Porto but died here in Sagres.

Sagres looking out towards the lighthouse of Cabo de São Vicente

Henry was a Portuguese prince who poured loads of his father’s (the king) money into researching and exploring. He hired cartographers and designed (or had designed) a sail boat called the caravel. The prince sent his new sail boats to Africa in search of gold.

By the time Prince Henry had died, the trade of humans from African had become a business. Not everything exciting and new is good.

These days the sea around Sagres is very popular as a surfing destination . You can hire boards and wet suits and go on tours of the best surfing spots in the Algarve. The car parks are full of camper vans and motorhomes with surf boards on the roof.

We forgot to bring ours so we watched instead. Maybe next time.

Sorry we’re late…

May 8, 2018May 8, 2018 | Mairead

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(There’s Denis with the rusty canons at Sagres Fort)

It’s different on the way back. We’re on our way back. We have been passing places we stayed in on the way out to this edge of Europe and now it’s different. On the way out at every parking spot it seemed like anything was possible. Stay for the night? Stay for a month? Come back again? Put off that tour, sure won’t we be back this way? It seems like the only restrictions were electricity, water and permission to stay.

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(More flora from the fort)

On the way back there’s another restriction. Time. Time moves more slowly in Portugal and not just for us. If we had places to go and people to meet then we might be frustrated by the laid back approach here. We might be… but we are not because we had neither places to go nor people to meet. That is changing. Fortunately for us it is changing slowly.

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(That’s the sound art, from yesterday’s post, to the right of the fencing)

Now we have places to go and people to meet. We have a ferry to catch and on the way we are meeting good friends. They will put up with us if we are late or if we just want to sit and stare at the sea or if we have nothing to say. They will give us electricity and a parking space and hot showers and if things work out like last time they will even feed us beautiful French food.

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(The view towards the east from Sagres Fort)

Hopefully by the time we reach Ireland we will know again how to be at a specific place at a specific time. Hopefully, we will successfully bring the car for it’s NCT while remembering that it needs a new battery before we can even get it out of the driveway. Hopefully, we will increase our trips to the washing machine and to the shower to allow more sweet-smelling encounters. I think we’re nearly ready but forgive us if we’re not.

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(Sunset looking at the lighthouse from Sagres)

We buy flexi tickets for the ferry each year, they allow us to move our booking if we need to. For things like snow and ice on the way out in February to staying longer on the way back. We’ve never used them but it seems this will be the year of flexibility so we changed our tickets. We even got a refund… of €5! But we’re not staying longer, we’re coming back sooner.

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(A single wild poppy at the castle in Silves)

While we were away the date for the Repeal the 8th Amendment Referendum was set and it turned out to be the day before we were due back. So we would miss it. That played on my mind. I have never considered myself political. I voted because I had the vote and my vote was hard-won for me by women who were long dead. But I never thought my vote made a difference… until the Marriage Equality Referendum. That’s when I realised, it’s not just the vote that makes a difference, it’s how the question, of which way I will vote, makes me different. It makes me reflect, which I love to do anyway but usually I reflect on myself! Why I’m here, what something means, how will I do this or solve that… But the reflection related to voting makes me think about others. I think it teaches me compassion and that’s what being political means to me.

See you soon… but I’ll probably be late. Mairead.

To the end of the land and back…

May 7, 2018May 7, 2018 | Mairead

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(View from the car park)

We’re on our way back… we went to the edge of Europe and turned around. The edge was very lovely. It was hot and yet a slight breeze kept us cool. The edge is at an old defence fort near the town of Sagres. No military there now just flora and fauna and some rusty cannons and… a wall, of course.

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(Can you see Sagres? The little toe below it is the fort. And to the west at the end of the N268 is Cabo de São Vicente and the lighthouse)

But really Sagres isn’t the edge edge there’s another little peninsula of land jutting out further west, called Cabo de São Vicente but they have no wall (they do have a little wall but it doesn’t following any of my guidelines for wall building…) and the car park has potholes (we are being very gentle with Ruby since the operation…) they do have a lighthouse though. Anyway, the fort at Sagres has loads of interesting things to see… for one, fearless fishermen. They stand on the edge of the cliff that runs around the inside of the fort, leaning over the edge to… well, I don’t know why they were leaning over. Why do fishermen lean over very dangerous cliffs?

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(A fearless fisherman)

There wasn’t just one fearless fisherman, but I stopped taking pictures of them because although I could see the steep drop, the pictures don’t show it. Plus I didn’t want to catch them off guard, one false step…

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(Another fearless fisherman)

There were also fearless tourists. They had to climb over a fence with a very descriptive warning poster to get into position.

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(Can you see the fearless tourists? And the drop to the sea? Via pointy rocks?)

There was also a piece of art, sound art… I don’t mean it was sound (although it was) but it was a place to hear (and feel) the ocean in the middle of the land. Isn’t that creative? So, there are naturally occurring chambers (caves, I suppose) leading from the sea up to the middle of the peninsula and as the waves come in, sea water is blown up through the caves. They built a kind of maze but not the kind you get lost in, the kind you walk around in until you get to the center. Where there was a grid platform you can stand on… and wait. Then suddenly there’s a huge gust of wind up through the grid and you can hear the water roaring. It is so surprising. It was like being a child again seeing a funny magic trick… but I could see nothing. Very sound and all the feels.

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(Here’s some of the flora. Doesn’t it look like paper that’s been cut with a pinking shears?)

We parked in the fort’s car park that night and saw the sun set over by the unwalled lighthouse in the distance at the edge edge of Europe. So that’s it, we can’t go any further. It’s time to head north and home. There’s still lots of time until we board the ferry at Cherbourg and I have to be very careful not to miss this last bit. Missing something when it’s right in front of you is a bit of a pity. Oh and we’re actually coming back early too but I’ll tell you about that tomorrow.

From the middle of a thunder-storm in Portugal, Mairead.

The house special and a van full of whiskey…

March 3, 2016March 2, 2016 | Mairead

(Spotted this van near reception yesterday)

Whiskey Van

(The writing on the side…)

We are still in Luz near Lagos and it’s just starting to get warm enough to sit outside and write… wearing three layers, thick fleece, woolly socks, boots and sun hat! So this is what spring looks like… here. I’ve been getting weather reports from my Mam and twitter (two very good sources) and spring in Ireland seems a little different. We went to visit the southern edge of Europe on Saturday, the bit of Portugal that points south into the Atlantic Ocean. It was very windy and then rainy and then sunny, familiar. Familiar is nice.

(The tip of Portugal looks a bit like an open crab claw with Cabo de São Vicente (above) on one tip and Sagres on the other)

We met a lovely couple on the bus to Lagos last week who recommended a restaurant in the nearby village. You really don’t need recommendations as the food in Portugal has been really good, no matter where we go. This one wasn’t Portuguese but we thought we’d give it a try anyway.

(The landscape at Ponta de Sagres. Kinda like the Burren?)

There were lots of free tables when we got there but despite my very winning smile (normally..) the grumpy man behind the bar didn’t react to our arrival, so we picked a good spot, sat down and waited. We waited a long time during which the occupants of the only other table had taken out their iPod and started a 70’s sing-a-long. Maybe this was the wrong place?

(The lighthouse at the fort on Ponta de Sagres)

While we were considering our options the grumpy man arrived with menus saying, there’s a lovely Chicken Pie special. We spotted some interesting dishes on the menu and when he arrived back with drinks we asked about a few. Each special we asked about was off or finished or just for the summer season and then he mentioned the lovely Chicken Pie again… we looked at each other and there was a long pause…

(The beach at the peninsula behind the fort at Ponta de Sagres)

I gave in first, I’ll have the Chicken Pie, please. The grumpy man perked up slightly. Denis wasn’t ready to let go of an interesting steak and sausage thingy and tried again. To which grumpy man replied, ok but it’ll take a while, I have to defrost the sausage. Denis was torn but smart enough to say, no, sur’ I’ll have the special too, thanks. Grumpy man almost smiled. The Chicken Pie was very nice and by the end of the night we were humming along with Gloria Gaynor’s I will Survive.

We have a new rule: Portuguese Restaurants Only. Mairead.