Last Thursday we attended ‘Wine School’ for a 2 hour lesson.
All the wine shops in St. Emilion resemble the lower ground floor at Harrods….the Food Hall……
They have many unique decanters and glasses for sale alongside the row upon row of bottles of Grands Crus Classes (that means flipping expensive to you and me!).
Some of the shops are quite intimidating; you feel you should know your Merlot from your Cabernet Franc with your eyes shut. Nearly all of them have beautifully written signs outside inviting you to ‘Entre Libre, degustation’…but you get the feeling that the tasting would lead to either buying some very expensive wine way beyond what we would feel happy paying for a bottle, or the embarrassment of leaving swiftly when you catch sight of the price.
Going to ‘wine school’ has given us the basic information to at least understand what the vendors are expecting from us. We also got a lot more from it……………..
………we have always bought wine to drink and enjoy, because that’s what we think it’s there for, but here in St Emilion we have found out that, leaving aside Table Wine (which our tutor dismissed as being not worth drinking), in the Bordeaux region the Merlot grapes grown on the ‘Right Bank’ of the Gironde and the Cabernet Sauvignon grapes grown on the ‘Left bank’ are all about creating a drink which can be left to mature for up to 30 years. But we’re getting too old to want to wait that long!
We also learnt a lot about vintages and what it is that makes a good year – apparently 2009 looks like being one of the best ever vintages but it will be at least 10 years before they can be certain!
We were guided through the smells and aromas that can be found in wine, some more welcome than others, and finally we got to taste some. We were expertly guided through the process and it made us realise just how many visual and olfactory clues there are to how good a wine is going to be before you get anywhere near tasting it. The only downside when we got to actually taste the wines was that we were encouraged to spit them out so that the alcohol intake didn’t affect our judgement. However, the tutor saved the best wine to taste until last which meant that everyone made sure they swallowed that one!
We’ve always realised that wine is a very important part of French life and culture but visiting St Emilion has opened our eyes to the extent of importance placed on growing the right grapes in the right region, taking all the factors into account, the soil, the micro-climate etc. to produce the best that can be made from the raw ingredients. Quite eye opening really, when all we’ve wanted is something to drink that tastes good and gets you merry at the same time!
We have bought and drunk some expensive wines here, and we can’t deny that you drink them with reverence and slowly to enjoy every mouthful, but if we’re totally honest, we think drinking wine in good company is more important than the quality of the wine.
So when we return home you can be sure we will be sharing a bottle or 2 while you listen to the bits of our adventure that didn’t make it to the blog!
Sunday, 30 May 2010
Wednesday, 26 May 2010
St Emilion
Driving along the narrow lanes flanked on both sides by row after row of neatly coiffured vines with a different Chateau around every bend, has given us a true feeling of being in France. It has been enhanced even more so by the stillness and silence of the site we are on now.
Do any of you remember the French ‘arty’ films which were sometimes shown late evening on BBC 2. There would be precious little talking, but lots of film of maybe one possibly two people sitting or lying in long grass in the middle of the countryside with the sounds of cicadas and bees buzzing around, and the occasional cuckoo amidst the other chirruping birds, sometimes in the distance you would see a small car or motorbike or possibly a bike riding by…? Well that’s exactly what it’s like here—
St. Emilion, the town is lovely, very quaint filled with restaurants and upmarket wine shops selling ‘only the best wine’!
We took a trip on a ‘Petit Train’ around the walls of the town and off into the surrounding vineyards. We stopped at one for a tour of the cellars and a degustation…it’s the only one left in the area which is owned and run by the original family.
There are 5,500 hectares of vineyards in the St. Emilion appellation alone, most viticulteurs have at least 30/40 hectares of vines. The one we visited today has only 3. But they say they are in one of the best positions i.e. the best soil, drainage, sunlight, etc.
Most of the other vineyards use centralised vinification and bottling centres but the owners of this particular vineyard…..Chateau Rochebelle, grow, harvest, mature and bottle everything themselves by hand. The wine stays in French oak barrels for 18 months before it’s bottled. It’s good stuff - you don’t buy their wine to be drunk that night with a take-away, it needs to be left to mature in the bottle for anything from 8 to 30 years.
We have booked ourselves into ‘The Wine School’ on Thursday afternoon to learn how to taste wines properly. I will be very sorry to ‘spit’!!!! We’ll try and write up about that experience on Thursday, but knowing us we’ll leave the school and head straight to a bar for a drink we are allowed to swallow, so our blogging will have to wait!!
There are 5,500 hectares of vineyards in the St. Emilion appellation alone, most viticulteurs have at least 30/40 hectares of vines. The one we visited today has only 3. But they say they are in one of the best positions i.e. the best soil, drainage, sunlight, etc.
Most of the other vineyards use centralised vinification and bottling centres but the owners of this particular vineyard…..Chateau Rochebelle, grow, harvest, mature and bottle everything themselves by hand. The wine stays in French oak barrels for 18 months before it’s bottled. It’s good stuff - you don’t buy their wine to be drunk that night with a take-away, it needs to be left to mature in the bottle for anything from 8 to 30 years.
We have booked ourselves into ‘The Wine School’ on Thursday afternoon to learn how to taste wines properly. I will be very sorry to ‘spit’!!!! We’ll try and write up about that experience on Thursday, but knowing us we’ll leave the school and head straight to a bar for a drink we are allowed to swallow, so our blogging will have to wait!!
Saturday, 22 May 2010
Allo allo
We’ve found it much more difficult to write any new blog entries since we’ve been in France. We think it’s partly to do with the fact that we are back in our favourite holiday country and, even though we are exploring some new parts we have never visited before, a lot of the experiences are familiar to us.
The choices of food on offer in the supermarkets and street markets also far outweigh anything on offer in either Spain or Portugal.
Tomorrow we move on to St. Emillion, just east of Bordeaux. As many of you will know it’s a BIG wine producing region, and we are staying on a site in the middle of the vineyards—can’t wait for yet again another new experience.
Seven years ago Peter’s brother bought him 50 vines in a vineyard in Bordeaux (for his 50th birthday). Unfortunately at that time we were too busy in our working lives to actually get to Bordeaux to see how they were doing, but we’re looking forward to visiting the vineyard sometime in the next 2 weeks.
Below are a few photos from the last couple of weeks
We’ve tried to think up ways of making our blog more of a comedy type script, but we think that will become boring in the end, so, we’ve decided not to worry about any of that and to press on blogging regardless!
We have spent the last two weeks on a site in the Landes Sud region – on the West coast of France up a bit from Biarritz. It’s a region we have never explored before and we would definitely come back. (But not in July or August!)
As well as the walks and the scenery we have really enjoyed returning to French cuisine and French culture. We enjoyed the varied and new experiences of eating out in Spain and Portugal but the quality of French food (from baguettes to foie gras) really does surpass its neighbours. They know how to cook and how to serve whatever you are looking for, whether it be a snack or a full 4 course meal!
The choices of food on offer in the supermarkets and street markets also far outweigh anything on offer in either Spain or Portugal.
A couple of days ago we passed a very friendly restaurant which happened to have Arcachon oysters on the menu. Well this time last year Peter tried oysters for the first time and wondered why he had waited so long. So for lunch the next day we cycled back to this restaurant for Peter to sample some for a second time. A fairly expensive choice in the UK, but here, along most of the Atlantic coast, it’s a big oyster region, you can have 9 large fresh oysters for just 10 Euros, cheaper than your average take away pizza. Funnily enough I opted for the ‘tapas selection’ of meat and cheese……..so Spain did rub off on me! (Although it was Portugal that got me hooked on ewes’ milk cheese, and that is also what’s produced big time in this region….mmmmmmmmmmmmm! They call it Brebis here and it is especially good with cherry jam—France’s influence).
Tomorrow we move on to St. Emillion, just east of Bordeaux. As many of you will know it’s a BIG wine producing region, and we are staying on a site in the middle of the vineyards—can’t wait for yet again another new experience.
Seven years ago Peter’s brother bought him 50 vines in a vineyard in Bordeaux (for his 50th birthday). Unfortunately at that time we were too busy in our working lives to actually get to Bordeaux to see how they were doing, but we’re looking forward to visiting the vineyard sometime in the next 2 weeks.
Below are a few photos from the last couple of weeks
Tuesday, 18 May 2010
!!!!!!!!!!
Peter wanted to write a blog on ‘Gas bottles across Europe’. He has really enjoyed finding out all there is to find out about which and what type of gas bottle with fitting is available in what country. So if you want to know more….rather than read about it on our blog I ask that you email him and make him happy with a question about his recommendations!
Monday, 17 May 2010
Northern Spain (otherwise known as the Basque country)
We left the Camino de Santiago campsite to head in a north—easterly direction towards San Sebastian. We had stayed there once before when David was 10 and Paul was 7. Although it had been a beautiful city 20 years ago, we hadn’t appreciated the Spanish culture back then and had got frustrated with the tapas bars and late restaurant opening hours. We thought it would be good to revisit the city with our new knowledge of late eating and ‘proper’ knowledge of how to order tapas!
The camp site was 30 minutes from San Sebastian on the coast close to a village we couldn’t pronounce—Itziar.
The site itself was lovely, the owner very friendly and helpful, and the scenery magnificent. Beautiful green rolling hills/mountains with the sea to the north, very fertile and productive. The gradients in every direction were steep either uphill or downhill!!
We thought we would spend 3 nights here before crossing the border into France……(something I was biting at the bit to do!)…..The middle night we were planning to go into San Sebastian to sample a tapas bar or two and have a meal.
What makes you think it didn’t happen?
The day after we arrived we headed into town for some provisions, as we have got travelling light down to an art form.
As we drove to the larger of the two towns nearest us….Zumaia, we realised the Spanish we had learnt had no bearing whatsoever on the road signs or anything else for that matter. We were in Basque country and that was what was on all signs, it didn’t resemble any language we had come across so far. In fact we would go as far as saying it looked more like Russian to us!
Even looking at menus outside restaurants we couldn’t decipher what was on offer. And we remembered that that was the other thing that had made it so difficult 20 years ago.
Thinking back now it might sound as though we were a couple of wooses, but we wanted, needed something familiar, so instead of staying 3 nights at the site we cut our losses, forgot about San Sebastian and headed straight for the French border the next day.
How wonderful to be in a land where we can understand the language and the culture, in fact where we embrace the culture. We have now been in Vieux Boucau in the Landes region (the South-West corner of France) for a week and have just booked in for a second week.
From here we plan to go to St. Emilion for 2 weeks then back down to Cahors for a month. Roll over Peter Mayle, and get ready for ‘The Ebsworths’ adventures a la Lot, Dordogne et Loire!’
Saturday, 15 May 2010
Whatever happened to Esperanto?
I’ve never really had an aptitude for languages. I was always good at English at school but as soon as it came to learning foreign ones I was useless.
As we’ve travelled around Western Europe I knew I could rely on Julie’s French to get us by in France.
Neither of us had more than a smattering of phrase book Spanish before we arrived in Spain but two hours of lessons a week took us to beginners’ standard.
We knew Portugal would be the biggest challenge. I’d bought a “teach yourself” CD and book some months before we left home with the intention of learning some Portuguese before we arrived in Portugal, but as with many good intentions it didn’t happen.
So what have I learnt?
• Of the three languages Spanish is the easiest to learn as most of the grammar and pronunciation follow standard rules (which also made us realise just how irregular a lot of English grammar and pronunciation is and how hard English must be to learn)
• It’s true what they say in the guide books – most people appreciate it if you try and speak to them in their own language, although of course the French tend to only appreciate it if you manage to get the pronunciation exactly right.
• Portuguese is a very strange language. In written form it looks very similar to Spanish and the two languages share quite a few common words but it sounds completely different, more Eastern European than Western. Which explains why Spaniards find it so hard to understand and Romanians find it easy to learn.
• Away from the Algarve where almost everyone can speak English, many Portuguese have French as a second language (apparently many Portuguese left Portugal to go and work in France during the post-war period). We had a couple of occasions in Portugal where we were trying to converse with someone who couldn’t speak any English (and our Portuguese vocabulary is so limited as to be useless) – and after struggling for a while with gesticulations and sign language they asked “parlez-vous Francais?”.
• On our journey from Portugal across Northern Spain we did have a brief encounter with Basque. Now, compared with Basque, Portuguese is a walk in the park. Basque bears no relation whatsoever to any other European language and in the Basque strongholds it is the only language they use for road signs, restaurant menus etc. At least in Wales most signs are in both English and Welsh but in Basque country they seem to make little or no allowance for those who can’t speak the language - it’s hard to believe you are still in Spain. It is the second time that we’ve visited this region and both times we’ve wanted to move on as quickly as possible.
Coming back to France has made me realise that my French vocabulary is fairly good. I still struggle with verbs and tenses and genders and but I’ve decided in the four months we have here to just go for it. If I can make myself understood I’m happy to accept that they may not be impressed by my French pronunciation with a “Norf Lundun” accent, but hey – that’s their problem!
As we’ve travelled around Western Europe I knew I could rely on Julie’s French to get us by in France.
Neither of us had more than a smattering of phrase book Spanish before we arrived in Spain but two hours of lessons a week took us to beginners’ standard.
We knew Portugal would be the biggest challenge. I’d bought a “teach yourself” CD and book some months before we left home with the intention of learning some Portuguese before we arrived in Portugal, but as with many good intentions it didn’t happen.
So what have I learnt?
• Of the three languages Spanish is the easiest to learn as most of the grammar and pronunciation follow standard rules (which also made us realise just how irregular a lot of English grammar and pronunciation is and how hard English must be to learn)
• It’s true what they say in the guide books – most people appreciate it if you try and speak to them in their own language, although of course the French tend to only appreciate it if you manage to get the pronunciation exactly right.
• Portuguese is a very strange language. In written form it looks very similar to Spanish and the two languages share quite a few common words but it sounds completely different, more Eastern European than Western. Which explains why Spaniards find it so hard to understand and Romanians find it easy to learn.
• Away from the Algarve where almost everyone can speak English, many Portuguese have French as a second language (apparently many Portuguese left Portugal to go and work in France during the post-war period). We had a couple of occasions in Portugal where we were trying to converse with someone who couldn’t speak any English (and our Portuguese vocabulary is so limited as to be useless) – and after struggling for a while with gesticulations and sign language they asked “parlez-vous Francais?”.
• On our journey from Portugal across Northern Spain we did have a brief encounter with Basque. Now, compared with Basque, Portuguese is a walk in the park. Basque bears no relation whatsoever to any other European language and in the Basque strongholds it is the only language they use for road signs, restaurant menus etc. At least in Wales most signs are in both English and Welsh but in Basque country they seem to make little or no allowance for those who can’t speak the language - it’s hard to believe you are still in Spain. It is the second time that we’ve visited this region and both times we’ve wanted to move on as quickly as possible.
Coming back to France has made me realise that my French vocabulary is fairly good. I still struggle with verbs and tenses and genders and but I’ve decided in the four months we have here to just go for it. If I can make myself understood I’m happy to accept that they may not be impressed by my French pronunciation with a “Norf Lundun” accent, but hey – that’s their problem!
Friday, 14 May 2010
Camino de Santiago.
This is a route neither Peter nor I had heard of before meeting a lovely German guy who was in a motorhome in ‘our calle’ (street) in Alicante. His name was Peter and he was 70 years old. He had walked the whole route from St. Jean Pied de Port in France to Santiago de Compostela in Spain. It is a pilgrims route and many people walk it each year.
It is believed that the remains of St James are buried in Santiago de Compostela so whenever St James’ day (the 25th July) falls on a Sunday the year is designated as being a holy year. And if you complete the walk during a holy year you are presented with a certificate which states that you have been granted absolution from all your sins so this year there are even more walkers than normal!
Peter was going to walk it again this year and as far as we know he has but completely by accident we found ourselves in a camp site on this same Pilgrims route.
The camp site is called Camino de Santiago, named after the Pilgrims route - it’s in a village called Castrojeriz and is quite an amazing place.
As well as being a camp site with a café, loos and showers it also provides a facility called an albergue, a large barn full of bunk beds for the walkers to use.
The café was a great place to sit and hear the stories of some of the walkers. We made friends with a few of them as they passed through the site during the three days we were there. There were all nationalities walking, all different denominations too. One lady we struck up quite a relationship with had come from South Africa to do the walk, another from Canada.
We walked just 6 Kms along the route ourselves and realised how committed these people are who walk the whole 780 Kms, averaging 30-35 Kms a day and carrying all their belongings with them.
It was a very humbling experience and one we will remember as being a highlight of our trip.
It is believed that the remains of St James are buried in Santiago de Compostela so whenever St James’ day (the 25th July) falls on a Sunday the year is designated as being a holy year. And if you complete the walk during a holy year you are presented with a certificate which states that you have been granted absolution from all your sins so this year there are even more walkers than normal!
Peter was going to walk it again this year and as far as we know he has but completely by accident we found ourselves in a camp site on this same Pilgrims route.
The camp site is called Camino de Santiago, named after the Pilgrims route - it’s in a village called Castrojeriz and is quite an amazing place.
As well as being a camp site with a café, loos and showers it also provides a facility called an albergue, a large barn full of bunk beds for the walkers to use.
The café was a great place to sit and hear the stories of some of the walkers. We made friends with a few of them as they passed through the site during the three days we were there. There were all nationalities walking, all different denominations too. One lady we struck up quite a relationship with had come from South Africa to do the walk, another from Canada.
We walked just 6 Kms along the route ourselves and realised how committed these people are who walk the whole 780 Kms, averaging 30-35 Kms a day and carrying all their belongings with them.
It was a very humbling experience and one we will remember as being a highlight of our trip.
Thursday, 13 May 2010
The road from Northern Portugal into Spain.
Cast your minds back to our episode with the ‘not yet opened site’……we can’t move forward until I’ve described the beauty of the countryside we travelled through to get there.
We left Portugal on the main A7 and A24 and entered Spain on a little A road which is the A532.
The colours of the heather on these roads this time of year is breathtaking.
We have been in the Peak district when you turn a corner and are faced with a hill side of purple heather, well this was similar but on a much grander scale. Unfortunately I haven’t got a photo to show you, so you’ll just have to take my word for it, but I recommend these wonderful roads, free of traffic and tolls. Easy towing apart from a few steep inclines and such a joy to behold.
We left Portugal on the main A7 and A24 and entered Spain on a little A road which is the A532.
The colours of the heather on these roads this time of year is breathtaking.
We have been in the Peak district when you turn a corner and are faced with a hill side of purple heather, well this was similar but on a much grander scale. Unfortunately I haven’t got a photo to show you, so you’ll just have to take my word for it, but I recommend these wonderful roads, free of traffic and tolls. Easy towing apart from a few steep inclines and such a joy to behold.
Wednesday, 12 May 2010
The Procession of the Crosses
We made our final visit to Barcelos on Monday 3rd May to see the procession which marks the end of the week-long “Festa da Cruzes” celebration.
It was a long solemn procession with representatives from churches around the area carrying crosses or displays based on the cross. We’ve included some pictures of it below.
What was perhaps most striking was the reverence and respect of everyone watching. Even the guys working on a building site near the procession route downed tools and stood and watched in silence as the procession went past. Thousands of people in and around the procession and yet you could hear a pin drop.
We both found it a very moving experience and a fitting finale to our time in Portugal.
It was a long solemn procession with representatives from churches around the area carrying crosses or displays based on the cross. We’ve included some pictures of it below.
What was perhaps most striking was the reverence and respect of everyone watching. Even the guys working on a building site near the procession route downed tools and stood and watched in silence as the procession went past. Thousands of people in and around the procession and yet you could hear a pin drop.
We both found it a very moving experience and a fitting finale to our time in Portugal.
Saturday, 8 May 2010
Julie vs Emily
To help me find my way driving around Western Europe I have two navigation aids – my wife Julie, and my Sat Nav Emily.
They have many similarities. For example, they are both female and give directions in a firm clear voice. They both show displeasure if their instructions are ignored although Emily tends to get less emotional about it.
When Emily tells you to turn left in 400 metres you know that she means left – with Julie it is always best to double-check by asking her to point which why she wants you to turn. Emily gives clear instructions to turn off a road well before you reach the junction – Julie’s instructions are often retrospective – “I think you should have turned left back there”.
Although Emily has street level mapping for the whole of Western Europe she doesn’t know about all those new roads the Spanish have been building in the last couple of years – “go to nearest road” is not the most helpful instruction when you are on a dual carriageway wondering which exit to take. She also doesn’t know about the weekly market that closes one of the main roads through a French town or the cycle race which involves a major detour for motorised traffic.
When we realise we have taken a wrong turn Julie’s and Emily’s tactics vary considerably. Julie tends to concentrate on recent errors of judgement on my part – “I told you Emily was taking us the wrong way” whereas Emily will keep repeating “perform a U turn when possible” which when towing a caravan down a narrow country lane is no more helpful.
There is a third option I have sometimes taken, usually with disastrous results, and that is to ignore both Julie and Emily and make my own decision about which road to take – a sure way to upset both of them. Being a stubborn man I will often just keep driving with the combined sounds of “perform a U turn when possible” and “turn that stupid thing off” ringing in my ears until we find somewhere to stop and consult that tried and tested navigational tool – a map!
They have many similarities. For example, they are both female and give directions in a firm clear voice. They both show displeasure if their instructions are ignored although Emily tends to get less emotional about it.
When Emily tells you to turn left in 400 metres you know that she means left – with Julie it is always best to double-check by asking her to point which why she wants you to turn. Emily gives clear instructions to turn off a road well before you reach the junction – Julie’s instructions are often retrospective – “I think you should have turned left back there”.
Although Emily has street level mapping for the whole of Western Europe she doesn’t know about all those new roads the Spanish have been building in the last couple of years – “go to nearest road” is not the most helpful instruction when you are on a dual carriageway wondering which exit to take. She also doesn’t know about the weekly market that closes one of the main roads through a French town or the cycle race which involves a major detour for motorised traffic.
When we realise we have taken a wrong turn Julie’s and Emily’s tactics vary considerably. Julie tends to concentrate on recent errors of judgement on my part – “I told you Emily was taking us the wrong way” whereas Emily will keep repeating “perform a U turn when possible” which when towing a caravan down a narrow country lane is no more helpful.
There is a third option I have sometimes taken, usually with disastrous results, and that is to ignore both Julie and Emily and make my own decision about which road to take – a sure way to upset both of them. Being a stubborn man I will often just keep driving with the combined sounds of “perform a U turn when possible” and “turn that stupid thing off” ringing in my ears until we find somewhere to stop and consult that tried and tested navigational tool – a map!
Friday, 7 May 2010
Battle of the Flowers
We had first heard of Barcelos from our friend David Haylor, explaining about the legend of the Barcelos cock, the origin of the Portuguese cockerel symbol.
As we moved further north, reading our guide books, Barcelos featured rather a lot.
There was the famous market we’ve already mentioned and throughout the first week in May they have a special celebration ‘Festas das Cruzes’. Guess what, we were due to be around Barcelos the first week of May.
We stayed on a site north of Porto which was just 15 kms from Barcelos.
A very helpful lady in Tourist Information pointed out three events which she recommended as her favourite and the ones which were most typical Portuguese – the Battle of the Flowers on Saturday afternoon, the firework display on the medieval bridge at midnight on the same day and the final procession on the Monday.
As advised we turned up early for the Battle of the Flowers and managed to park about 15 minutes walk away from the centre. We took our place at the side of the road in the central “Avenida de Liberdade” and waited for the action to begin, not really knowing what to expect.
We’re still not sure what the significance of the event is (all our guide books say that the Portuguese don’t need an excuse to throw a party and enjoy themselves!).We knew there would be a carnival type procession and were probably expecting just floats of flower strewn lorries. Well we were partly right! There were two processions of people, animals, vehicles and large buckets and baskets of flower petals starting from different areas of the town and meeting in the Avenida de Liberdade. One procession starts from one end of the road, the other procession from the opposite end. We were astounded by the lengths they had gone to to decorate the floats - they were truly beautiful.
As they passed each other, going in opposite directions, they hurled flower petals at each other and the crowd. The smell was exquisite and there were petals and bits of stem everywhere including all over us! There must have been at least a 4 inch thick carpet of flower petals by the time the whole thing came to an end. Everyone taking part seemed to enjoy it immensely and so did we!
As we moved further north, reading our guide books, Barcelos featured rather a lot.
There was the famous market we’ve already mentioned and throughout the first week in May they have a special celebration ‘Festas das Cruzes’. Guess what, we were due to be around Barcelos the first week of May.
We stayed on a site north of Porto which was just 15 kms from Barcelos.
A very helpful lady in Tourist Information pointed out three events which she recommended as her favourite and the ones which were most typical Portuguese – the Battle of the Flowers on Saturday afternoon, the firework display on the medieval bridge at midnight on the same day and the final procession on the Monday.
As advised we turned up early for the Battle of the Flowers and managed to park about 15 minutes walk away from the centre. We took our place at the side of the road in the central “Avenida de Liberdade” and waited for the action to begin, not really knowing what to expect.
We’re still not sure what the significance of the event is (all our guide books say that the Portuguese don’t need an excuse to throw a party and enjoy themselves!).We knew there would be a carnival type procession and were probably expecting just floats of flower strewn lorries. Well we were partly right! There were two processions of people, animals, vehicles and large buckets and baskets of flower petals starting from different areas of the town and meeting in the Avenida de Liberdade. One procession starts from one end of the road, the other procession from the opposite end. We were astounded by the lengths they had gone to to decorate the floats - they were truly beautiful.
As they passed each other, going in opposite directions, they hurled flower petals at each other and the crowd. The smell was exquisite and there were petals and bits of stem everywhere including all over us! There must have been at least a 4 inch thick carpet of flower petals by the time the whole thing came to an end. Everyone taking part seemed to enjoy it immensely and so did we!
Thursday, 6 May 2010
Barcelos Thursday Market
The guide book told us that this was the biggest market in Europe. Now we're not ones for big markets, too much walking and tatty merchandise. This market however is like markets of old in the UK. Sheep, cattle, goats, chickens etc. We decided to give it a go.
As always market days in any town makes for a lot of traffic and precious little parking space. Barcelos was no different, but we managed to park in a side street just out side the main part of town and walk in.
The sites and sounds were amazing. We had got there too late to see the cattle being sold but there were chickens and rabbits in abundance. It was a real education watching the Portuguese men weigh up which fully grown hens to buy. The rabbits also looked fully grown but what intrigued us was that none of them tried to escape or run away. They lay very quietly side by side along with the hens waiting to be bought. We don't know, but expect that they would be bought to place in a pot, not to be reared and loved!!!!
The flowers at this market had to be seen to be believed. Every colour, size, shape and scent. We learnt after visiting the tourist office that on the Saturday there was going to be a big annual celebration called 'Battle of the Flowers'. Whether there were more flowers on sale than usual because of this we don't know, but it was lovely to see so many.
Below are some of the photos we took of the rabbits and chickens at the market. They don't do it justice because you can't put atmosphere in the pictures, but will give you a feel for it.
As always market days in any town makes for a lot of traffic and precious little parking space. Barcelos was no different, but we managed to park in a side street just out side the main part of town and walk in.
The sites and sounds were amazing. We had got there too late to see the cattle being sold but there were chickens and rabbits in abundance. It was a real education watching the Portuguese men weigh up which fully grown hens to buy. The rabbits also looked fully grown but what intrigued us was that none of them tried to escape or run away. They lay very quietly side by side along with the hens waiting to be bought. We don't know, but expect that they would be bought to place in a pot, not to be reared and loved!!!!
The flowers at this market had to be seen to be believed. Every colour, size, shape and scent. We learnt after visiting the tourist office that on the Saturday there was going to be a big annual celebration called 'Battle of the Flowers'. Whether there were more flowers on sale than usual because of this we don't know, but it was lovely to see so many.
Below are some of the photos we took of the rabbits and chickens at the market. They don't do it justice because you can't put atmosphere in the pictures, but will give you a feel for it.
Wednesday, 5 May 2010
Latest adventure!
This is all out of sequence and we’ll catch up on the wonderful sights and sounds we experienced in Barcelos, but I just had to write up what has happened to us over the last 24 hours.
We are now in Spain, but we left our last site—Rio Alto—just north of Porto, at 11.30 yesterday morning to drive 280 kms to the next stop. Peter had picked it from our Alan Rogers book. It was in the middle of the Sanabria National park. The write up sounded wonderful added to the fact that it was the only site on our route for many kms.
The roads to get through the northern mountains of Portugal were very good indeed, but there were few places to stop and have a break. We ended up stopping just 50kms from the new site to fill up with fuel and have a sandwich.
The sandwich itself deserves a mention. I had all we needed in the van to make lunch but as the first stopping place we found was at 3pm I decided to ask the café next to the filling station to make me a ‘jamon y queso bocadillo’. The owner duly obliged and gave me a whole large white loaf filled with wonderful ‘jamon’ and cheese. When I got back in the car I spent the rest of the journey thinking up imaginary ways of using the half Peter and I couldn’t finish.
The last 10kms up to the campsite were indeed beautiful. We were really looking forward to staying in this area for 2/3 days to have a really good look round.
As we pulled up to the entrance the gates were closed….lunch time?.....day off?......the site was deserted and there was no one around. It looked like it hadn’t yet opened for the season, despite the Alan Rogers guide saying that it was open all year.
We knew there wasn’t another campsite for miles but we got all the books out of the car to start a desperate search. We toyed with spending the night outside the gates but it was quite an incline so binned that idea.
Peter believed he had seen a signpost with a tent on it a few kms back, so we drove back and sure enough it was there so we followed it…..now for those of you who are used to towing you’ll know that it isn’t always as simple as following a signpost when you’ve got your home trundling along behind you…….so it was with some trepidation in my heart that we travelled down a single track road with rivers and ponds on each side looking for a place to camp. However the track ended at the most idyllic spot on the edge of the lake. (But no campsite!)
To begin with we began to look in the campsite guides again to see how far we would have to travel to say in a proper site, but we had picked the only sites for the next 2 stops because they were the only ones on our route and that meant driving on another 280kms. Too much!!!!!!
The lake looked wonderful and I knew that if the boys had been with us they wouldn’t have missed an opportunity to stay there…..so we thought…..we can do this!
We unhitched, got some lake water for the loo and washing up. We still had a couple of litres of drinking water left from the drive so we thought if we’re careful and only drink beer tonight we will have enough water for a cup of tea in the morning!
At 8.30pm, after sharing 2 large bottles of beer between us and eating the rest of the bocadillo a park ranger came and told us we couldn’t stay where we were. We HAD to move! He told us we could just park up in the middle of the village a few kms away…….which is fine if you are in a motorhome but not so clever if you are travelling in a car and caravan.
When we got to the village we decided we wouldn’t be happy staying there overnight so we decided to just keep going. I drove as Peter had already driven 280kms and was feeling tired. Again the roads were brilliant with only a few lorries using them. We pulled into the next site on our itinerary at 3 minutes past midnight and to our (pleasant) surprise there were still people in the café/reception. The main gates were shut though. Peter got out and asked if we could stay outside for the night, but they said there was no need - they would open up and let us in, all they needed was our passport numbers.
We pulled onto the nearest pitch, put the legs down and got into bed. We’ll be staying here at least 3 nights to rest and recuperate, we’ve not worked so hard for a long time!!!!!!!!
We are now in Spain, but we left our last site—Rio Alto—just north of Porto, at 11.30 yesterday morning to drive 280 kms to the next stop. Peter had picked it from our Alan Rogers book. It was in the middle of the Sanabria National park. The write up sounded wonderful added to the fact that it was the only site on our route for many kms.
The roads to get through the northern mountains of Portugal were very good indeed, but there were few places to stop and have a break. We ended up stopping just 50kms from the new site to fill up with fuel and have a sandwich.
The sandwich itself deserves a mention. I had all we needed in the van to make lunch but as the first stopping place we found was at 3pm I decided to ask the café next to the filling station to make me a ‘jamon y queso bocadillo’. The owner duly obliged and gave me a whole large white loaf filled with wonderful ‘jamon’ and cheese. When I got back in the car I spent the rest of the journey thinking up imaginary ways of using the half Peter and I couldn’t finish.
The last 10kms up to the campsite were indeed beautiful. We were really looking forward to staying in this area for 2/3 days to have a really good look round.
As we pulled up to the entrance the gates were closed….lunch time?.....day off?......the site was deserted and there was no one around. It looked like it hadn’t yet opened for the season, despite the Alan Rogers guide saying that it was open all year.
We knew there wasn’t another campsite for miles but we got all the books out of the car to start a desperate search. We toyed with spending the night outside the gates but it was quite an incline so binned that idea.
Peter believed he had seen a signpost with a tent on it a few kms back, so we drove back and sure enough it was there so we followed it…..now for those of you who are used to towing you’ll know that it isn’t always as simple as following a signpost when you’ve got your home trundling along behind you…….so it was with some trepidation in my heart that we travelled down a single track road with rivers and ponds on each side looking for a place to camp. However the track ended at the most idyllic spot on the edge of the lake. (But no campsite!)
To begin with we began to look in the campsite guides again to see how far we would have to travel to say in a proper site, but we had picked the only sites for the next 2 stops because they were the only ones on our route and that meant driving on another 280kms. Too much!!!!!!
The lake looked wonderful and I knew that if the boys had been with us they wouldn’t have missed an opportunity to stay there…..so we thought…..we can do this!
We unhitched, got some lake water for the loo and washing up. We still had a couple of litres of drinking water left from the drive so we thought if we’re careful and only drink beer tonight we will have enough water for a cup of tea in the morning!
When we got to the village we decided we wouldn’t be happy staying there overnight so we decided to just keep going. I drove as Peter had already driven 280kms and was feeling tired. Again the roads were brilliant with only a few lorries using them. We pulled into the next site on our itinerary at 3 minutes past midnight and to our (pleasant) surprise there were still people in the café/reception. The main gates were shut though. Peter got out and asked if we could stay outside for the night, but they said there was no need - they would open up and let us in, all they needed was our passport numbers.
We pulled onto the nearest pitch, put the legs down and got into bed. We’ll be staying here at least 3 nights to rest and recuperate, we’ve not worked so hard for a long time!!!!!!!!
Tuesday, 4 May 2010
The Market Garden of Portugal
Heading north of Porto the land use changed quite dramatically. No longer were there fields of sheep, goats and cattle. Poly tunnels were the main vista along with very neat rows of small plots of cultivated land. A bit like Kent but with much smaller plots, each growing a different crop.
The one thing that has amazed me throughout the whole journey north from the Algarve is how beautiful all the flowers are and how much the Portuguese enjoy their flowers also. Most gardens are very well kept with a variety of blooms which come in every colour of the rainbow.
We are now 30-40kms north of Porto and along all the roads are tractors with trailers filled with all sorts of very fresh vegetables. Next to each of these is a small wizened Portuguese woman wearing a typical black hat, usually sitting under an umbrella to protect her from the sun.
They say we are fussy about how our veg looks in the supermarkets at home, but if you could see how large and clean this veg is straight from the grower it would put our supermarket veg to shame. It also tastes fantastic.
Unfortunately the roads have been very busy as we’ve been driving along so we haven’t got a photo of the ‘tractor stalls’ but below are a couple of photos taken just along the road from our present site to give you an idea of the scale of the arable farming. (Small very well cared for plots with a poly tunnel and a family taking care of their land. The equipment they use is also very primitive compared to UK standards. Everything we’ve seen is planted and reaped by hand.
Another unusual thing about this area is the use of cobbles. We have got used to coming across cobbled streets in cities and towns, but here all the country lanes are paved with cobbles………it makes for interesting towing!! (Although on the plus side it does mean that there are very few pot-holes.)
The one thing that has amazed me throughout the whole journey north from the Algarve is how beautiful all the flowers are and how much the Portuguese enjoy their flowers also. Most gardens are very well kept with a variety of blooms which come in every colour of the rainbow.
We are now 30-40kms north of Porto and along all the roads are tractors with trailers filled with all sorts of very fresh vegetables. Next to each of these is a small wizened Portuguese woman wearing a typical black hat, usually sitting under an umbrella to protect her from the sun.
They say we are fussy about how our veg looks in the supermarkets at home, but if you could see how large and clean this veg is straight from the grower it would put our supermarket veg to shame. It also tastes fantastic.
Unfortunately the roads have been very busy as we’ve been driving along so we haven’t got a photo of the ‘tractor stalls’ but below are a couple of photos taken just along the road from our present site to give you an idea of the scale of the arable farming. (Small very well cared for plots with a poly tunnel and a family taking care of their land. The equipment they use is also very primitive compared to UK standards. Everything we’ve seen is planted and reaped by hand.
Another unusual thing about this area is the use of cobbles. We have got used to coming across cobbled streets in cities and towns, but here all the country lanes are paved with cobbles………it makes for interesting towing!! (Although on the plus side it does mean that there are very few pot-holes.)
Monday, 3 May 2010
Aveiro
I’ve already mentioned that while Tony and Claire were staying with us we were on the Atlantic side of a large lagoon. On the opposite side of the lagoon is a town called Aveiro.
It is described as being Portugal’s ‘Little Venice’ as it has 3 canals running through it. They were originally built to help transport the salt gleaned from the lagoon to salt houses further inland. Now it is a university city which is quite modern, but has also held onto its charm.
We had wanted to visit it while Tony and Claire were with us, and if the flights hadn’t been disrupted, giving them the full week with us we would have gone. As it was 3 days wasn’t enough to do everything!
So Peter and I went to Aveiro the day after Tony and Claire left.
3kms from our site was a small car ferry, very like the one at Sandbanks, Dorset to take us across the lagoon. We had been told that with the same ticket you could get the ferry as a foot passenger and there would be a bus to meet us on the opposite side to transport us into Aveiro.
We were expecting a short 10 minute ride, but in actual fact Aveiro wasn’t just the other side of the lagoon, it was further inland and the bus journey took a good ½ hour. (We’re so pleased we didn’t take the bikes to cycle in!)
Aveiro didn’t disappoint us and rather than try to describe our day I’ll leave you to look at the photos……
It is described as being Portugal’s ‘Little Venice’ as it has 3 canals running through it. They were originally built to help transport the salt gleaned from the lagoon to salt houses further inland. Now it is a university city which is quite modern, but has also held onto its charm.
We had wanted to visit it while Tony and Claire were with us, and if the flights hadn’t been disrupted, giving them the full week with us we would have gone. As it was 3 days wasn’t enough to do everything!
So Peter and I went to Aveiro the day after Tony and Claire left.
3kms from our site was a small car ferry, very like the one at Sandbanks, Dorset to take us across the lagoon. We had been told that with the same ticket you could get the ferry as a foot passenger and there would be a bus to meet us on the opposite side to transport us into Aveiro.
We were expecting a short 10 minute ride, but in actual fact Aveiro wasn’t just the other side of the lagoon, it was further inland and the bus journey took a good ½ hour. (We’re so pleased we didn’t take the bikes to cycle in!)
Aveiro didn’t disappoint us and rather than try to describe our day I’ll leave you to look at the photos……
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