Nazaré, Portugal

 Annnnd… on to Portugal. Just a quick trip from neighboring Spain. Much as we'd enjoyed it, we were anxious for some cooler weather. But our airport arrival experience was a misadventure worthy of our friend Denisa who writes about her travel snafus with wry humour: we somehow got directed into the line to get our passports stamped to exit the EU; fortunately the agent spoke excellent English and figured out that we were in the wrong lane before we ended up in the country illegally. After reclaiming what are now 3 suitcases (first trip in my life where I needed an extra bag to come home with. Of course, 5 months, temperature ranges from 0 degrees C in Iceland to 40 degrees C in Sevilla; foul weather sailing gear and pirate costume as well ordinary clothes and El Galeon polo shirts and jackets for work days, plus the antique nautical instruments from Whitby, and now my ceramic tile and a steadily-growing collection of fridge magnets, meant we weren’t exactly traveling light) we were met by a man in a suit holding a sign with our names on it and whisked away in a black Mercedes (for real! How cool, like a movie!) to our hotel. 

Our first stop was along the coast. Nazaré was a small fishing village, now summer vacation spot and location of legendary giant waves for surfing. No big waves the day we visited (I had been hoping for some leftover hurricane swell maybe?) but a really heavy salt spray mist in the air. Spoken Portuguese sounds a little like Russian to my ears and I definitely underestimated how uncomfortable I would feel not knowing any of the local language beyond a few politeness words. Between google translate, playing charades, pointing, and taking cues from other people we managed to get a couple of tuna, cheese, and tomato toasted sandwiches ("tosta atun com tomate" delicious for 4€ each) and a couple of beers.

A “living museum” along the waterfront promenade. This line of traditional fishing boats, they used to put lanterns in the back and go out at night with nets to fish (signs in front of each boat gave specific details; the last one in the row is the lifeboat)

  

Recreation of the area where the women would dry the fish in the sun (and the smell was … noticeable)

A rather elaborate sand castle. The artist who created it was nowhere in sight, but trustingly left a discrete cup for donations. 

Life's uncertain -- eat dessert first! Our first breakfast buffet in Portugal at our hotel.

This next batch of photos came from what may have been the best tour I’ve ever taken in my life. Our guide, Fabio, talked more about culture than about “seeing the sights.” Hard to distill into a few sentences the upshot of 4 hours of conversation but I’ll try. There was a common theme of respect in his descriptions: generations of fisherfolk going to sea in small open boats respecting the oceans power (and some regulation to keep the bounty from being overfished as we had seen in other places); respect for tradition, in everything from the decoration of houses (painted white on the exterior to reflect the sun and keep it cool and fresh, blue trim acknowledging their lives are tied to the sea, and wavy terra cotta tile roofs to drain off the rain and circulate air to keep the mold at bay) to good luck charms; respect for elders and family and taking time for coffee and visits and conversation; respect for the environment. He told of some fun traditions like the women wearing big patterned skirts while they waited on shore so their fisherman husbands could recognize them from a distance coming home from the sea. He talked of drying fish in the sun, and of leaving your door open so your neighbours could drop by for a visit any time. He talked of young people moving to the big towns to work and coming home to the town on weekends or holidays to enjoy the slower pace of life with their grandparents.

One thing that made this great: he **wasn’t** a regular tour guide for Nazaré. He’s a lifelong resident who loves this country, but he didn’t have a tour “planned and canned.” He admitted that this was his first time doing a tour in this city because he usually does tours for Lisbon and we worked out together what to focus on. There was a personalization and authenticity and vulnerability to his tour (as well as shared laughter about aspects of guiding tours that are true no matter what and where you are, as one professional to another).

Where the giant waves are found in winter time. These weren’t giant but weren’t tiny either.

This art, in the shape of the bow of a candil boat, made of UN-recyclable plastic (mostly fishing nets and line) to suggest a wave.

Mural on the side of a school.

Our fabulous guide Fabio pointing something out to Jaye

The old church on top of the hill.

View down to the town from the top of the hill.

Medieval town of Obidos — in times of siege, the whole town could fit inside the castle/fortress on top of the hill. (Just like our beloved Castillo de San Marcos in St Augustine.)

Olives!!

Statue in a roundabout, a stylized nod to the traditional skirts, which supposedly were worn with 7 petticoats.

We got back to the hotel and later strolled down to the beach. We found the street closed; I don’t know if there’s a festival but there are LOTS of people strolling the pavement along the beach. This guy busking; I thought it was for the statue pose alone but when I put coins in his jug he made a mechanized display of “coming to life” and offered me the cup in his hand filled with tightly rolled papers. I chose one and unrolled it to read my fortune. Thanx to google translate: “You only succeed tomorrow if you don’t give up today.”

This perfect statue pose alone would have been worth the couple of euros I threw in his cup ...

... then he very mechanically got "activated" and offered me a choice of fortunes.

We decided to take a taxi back up the hill to the church we visited yesterday with Fabio to have a coffee on the plaza and peoplewatch; then walk back down. Taxi driver spoke neither English nor Spanish, but Jaye showed him the route on the phone and Dan made a “praying hands” gesture and he smiled and nodded and off we went. We enjoyed a perfect morning snack (though again by pointing and gesturing; tried to use google translate but the coffee shop was in an old building with thick stone walls and a tile roof so no signal inside). Afterwards it was time to walk down and yikes!!! The footpath was paved with stones that had been worn shiny from feet — and my shoes also are worn shiny, making a slippery road. Still, it was beautiful as we made it slowly down hand in hand. Now for a bit of rest before going out for lunch. There’s a beer with my name on it…