The Algarve, Portugese gem

I woke up in rural southern Portugal to this: Just out my door are the rolling hills and grassy fields, mixed in with a few vineyards and a large patch of windmills in the distance. 

 Just a short drive from where we are staying is the very small town of Barão de São João. It has all the small town charm you can imagine, including the old man sitting with his dog outside an antique-looking cafe, and brightly colored facades with flower boxes out front. No cars here, just narrow cobblestone streets.

Our sweet host Alexandra and her loving puppy, Pablo, showed us around the very southwestern area of Europe for a day, we saw towns and mountains, rivers and the almighty sea.

traveling flea market: Barão de São João

Every so often the traveling flea market pops up in the rural Portuguese towns in the Algarve. They are from all over Europe and even the States or Australia, young and old, have simple or elaborate moving homes, but are all living the nomadic life of the road, taking residence where their wheels stop rolling. 

This particular flea market took place in the town of Barão de São João, in the southwestern most part of Europe. The caravans apparently began to arrive the day before, perhaps a reunion of sorts for many of the travelers, and they party all night before setting up their trash and treasures for the shoppers the next morning.

There was a little bit of everything at this flea market, and my was it a big one! There were tools and toasters, plants and paintings, clothing and couches, handmade jewelry, old records, and painting stations for the children.

the things that you can find at a flea market are really interesting and unexpected, and here is a clear example of the randomness of what you can find:

There were several makeshift restaurants set up, with the accompanying camper-homes serving up cold beer, hot coffee, and fresh local juice to name a few. The food options ranged from veggie burgers to crepes to whole grain cookies and sweets to the occasional 'space cakes'. These hippies had a pretty elaborate set-up! 

And by the mid afternoon they will pack up, move on, I heard some talk of a festival in the woods, others mentioned nearby town for next week, some would take a few weeks off, perhaps. It was a cool glimpse into a different way of life, one of 'the road', and a chance to get some funky treasures and sweet treats.

With love from Portugal, Nicole

across the sea: Tangiers

Just a short bus ride and an even shorter boat ride away is the port city of Tangier, Morocco. A gateway to Africa, the mother continent. We made the journey, took the trip, unsure of what to expect. I'd heard good things, I'd heard bad things, and I went to form my own impression of the place. As the boat rocked aggressively on the sea, full of many people and all our stuff, we crossed the Straight of Gibraltar. This is my life! I have traveled and seen so much of this beautiful planet, I am lucky, and also I have worked hard for what I have. 

We stayed in the famous and ancient Continental Hotel atop the hill and overlooking the harbor. The hotel is sort of like a museum, it's untouched in many ways, still has the antique charm of Morocco hundreds of years ago. There are hundreds of stained glass windows, and hand carved wood panels, and elaborate mosaic tiles, and a carefully placed grand piano or hand carved solid wood dresser and mirror. The are along the walls dozens of signed photos of the celebrities that have stayed there for the past 150 years that the hotel has been in business. 

While on our short stay in Tangier we managed to see a lot of the city, thanks to the small size of it and also thanks to us getting lost all the time (which we don't really mind that much). 

There are many wonderful sights that a camera can capture, for this I am grateful. Yet there are those times you just don't have the camera ready, or the scene is too elaborate, or the emotions to complex to capture, and this is why I write: to remember those things. 

Here are some of the 'snapshots' of Tangiers that I don't have a photo of:

a group of pre-teen boys, dressed in their best for school are up early kicking a dirty, old soccer ball around an empty parking lot of a vacant, run-down building, now boarded up and tainted with graffiti; a homeless man sleeps under the once-used entryway on a warped mattress.

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meters upon meters of thick, brightly colored string fresh off the spool are tied here and there to a wrought iron window box, or a conveniently placed water pipe, and strung taut down the narrow alley to a leathery skinned old man working a wooden loom of some sort as he chats to his neighbor a few steps away doing the same. 

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three mangey cats lazily lick their coats in the small patch of sunlight that reaches inside the labyrinth of twisting roads and tall stone apartment that line each side, they groom and rest there calmly until a large, wild-eyed German Shepherd comes tearing through- his master quickly following as he calls: "boss, boss.... this way..." in English. 

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as we walked and wandered, content in our aimlessness we found the density of other people dwindling and that was okay for the moment. The deeper into the maze you go the more adventurous it feels. We saw two men conversing near a pile of trash, some transaction was taking place. The slick, greasy-haired  guy with an ugly gold chain was in control there and the desperate looking sloppy guy was at his merch. Whatever the situation was we opted to take a sudden right turn, despite the fact that it was opposite the direction we wanted. It's best to avoid desperate people on sleepy back alleys in the thick of the maze that we call Tangiers.

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small cars zoom speedily through the wider of the thoroughfares, clearly experienced in the proximity of those two walls on either side and each tight corner. 

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