A Slow-boat Down the Mekong

It’s been a few weeks, it seems, since I’ve taken time to gather my thoughts…to recap our adventures…so here we go. Forgive me if I pass those by for now to bring you to this current moment.

Today I find myself sitting on a “slow boat”, cruising down the Mekong River in Laos. My company on board is that of 8 other individuals from around the globe and two guides. In Laos, we are required to have a local Laotian to escort us to the wonderful temples and small riverside villages of the local hill tribes. Sang, our guide, is of small stature, as are many of the Laotians. His voice is calm and soothing and full of pride for his country. Moh, pronounced ma, is our tour guide for GAdventures through Thailand, Laos and Vietnam. Moh is full of a good life force and spreads the joy of her job and her country’s treasures with us as we go along.

As we have been exploring Thailand and Laos, I find myself troubled at times. Moh will be telling of the history of war in these countries and I almost feel ashamed, as if I, myself, had done something to hurt these people. To hear of the horrors of war, one people killing and controlling another, and for what…land grab, slavery, political turmoil, religious differences…again, I am saddened deeply, that human beings can be so cruel. Perhaps my kind spirit feels tarnished in some way, perhaps in another life, I was here or suffered as these people. Sorry for the rant.

Take away the people and you’re left with the scenery, the raw nature, the dense jungle, muddy water and blazing hot sun. The smell of jasmine and wild ginger, sweet basil fill the air. The occasional herd of cattle, goats or water buffalo, and we even encountered two elephants playing in the shallows of this mighty river. What a gift that was.

The Mekong is a mighty river with powerful flows and jagged rocks and vast sandy beaches, holding it in place. The Mekong flows from Tibet 4,500 miles to the sea. It is the border of many countries throughout SE Asia, and has been fought over by more than one. The dark brown water bubbles and churns, almost bringing the boat to a standstill. It seems chaotic in its flows. In the monsoon season, it rises almost 40’, laughing at the rocks and sand as it consumes them as if in a great flood. Each dry season, a new riverbank is introduced, as the power of water transforms it. Waterfalls come out of the jungles, carving deep gorges in the sand, cascading over well worn rocks, finding their way back into the mighty Mekong River. In the mornings, the clouds blanket the hillsides as the sun attempts to burn through, one giving way to the other in the natural progression of things.

The limestone and granite display along the banks are often incredibly showy. If you look long enough, you will see a complete myriad colors, from purples, pinks, shades of whites, blacks and yellows. They pose an impenetrable barrier, often times hidden under the water. The local hill tribes use the cracks and crevices to secure bamboo poles strung with fishing nets or lines. Small flat bottom boats transport families and supplies, some using motors and others paddles and bamboo push poles. An occasional farm house, perched high on stilts with a crop of corn, rice or potatoes surrounding it, often planted on the rich sand banks deposited by the river during flood stage. You’re left wondering how they can live in, what seems to us, such harsh conditions. We are so privileged and spoiled.

Riverside gardens
Riverside Hill Tribe Village
Local fisherman

The sun has finally broken through and the cool breezes will soon be welcomed to all on board. The green foliage comes to life, some reflecting the brilliant sunlight and others creating dark shadows. The dark brown muddy water lightens up as it refracts the light as it pierces the surface. The sand glistens along the banks. It’s all so powerful and humbling.

Backpack and Barefootin’

Some mug shots before we go. I have packed and repacked. It’s approaching 25lbs plus about 4-5lb spread in the front. Mind you, we are not going backpacking, just moving from one mode of transportation to another, hotel to boat to trains, we got it all coming. It’s a tolerable weight in a well balanced women’s EJA Osprey pack. I am guessing maximum walk would be a mile or two but I doubt it’ll be the same in SE Asia than EU.

Comfortable shoes…that’s been the next scramble since we’ve been back in SLC. These are my beach shoes, I have another pair plus my sturdy Merrell hiker sandals. Some TeVA mush flip flops for pool and shower. We have bought more shoes for CW and finally narrowed it down to a Merrell hiker sandal and a ALTRA Women’s Lone Peak 6 Trail Running Shoe. Both excellent light weight but sturdy options. She also has a beach shoe and flip flop.

We now settle down after our flurry of buying and returning sprees. Our itinerary sounds so enticing. So much off the beaten path and such a unique experience to travel in a loosely structured humanitarian based tour. Home stays and cooking classes. Temples and buddhas. History and civilization, life at its core. A painful past that is just that, past, don’t we all got it. Never judge, work hard and always smile! Be thankful for each day. Live it like it’s your last.

So me and my back pack will become close friends. I will grow stronger by the day and maybe shed a few lbs equal to my new load. 🤣🤗😮‍💨. All shots are in arms and we have our 90 days of malaria pills. The travel clinic suggested it. Enjoying the last load of laundry in wash and dry mode. What a lazy society and so lucky. Heading out for Seattle Monday for a quick early flight out the next day. Fly to S Korea and then 5hr flight to Ho Chi Minh. Enjoy the pics and posts coming.

Black Sand Beaches and Reality: North Cyprus

Here I am again, sitting here turning my wildest dreams into a reality on a black sand beach on the Mediterranean Sea. The warm waters and calm surf are perfect for bobbing and swimming. This island is so MUCH better than anyplace we’ve been so far this year.

The people are genuinely friendly. English is commonly spoken as well as Turkish and Greek. Americans are few and far between maybe because so many of us live in the bubble of propaganda and have never taken a chance to travel. Like really travel. We were afraid too.

Up until a month ago, while visiting Montenegro, I had never considered Cyprus, but more proper, The Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus or TRNC. Now we’ve bought a garden apartment with a walk-out pool in a complex that will terrace its way up the hill in typical domino stacks of bright white buildings spilling into the sea.

It’s somewhat like Portugal’s Algarve coast, Croatia or Montenegro’s coastline but without the crowds. It’s a beautiful vista backset against the verdant green slopes of the mountains rising up from the sea. Albeit with much less of a dramatic gain in heights and angle.

This is a burgeoning area bringing itself and its people together to make a future. It’s easy going and pretty laid back. Food is incredible, even though french fries is a food group here. There is a good solid infrastructure and new hospitals. There’s an International University here, at least one I know of. We have actually used the medical system here twice this month.

Gas, food and lodging are pretty low priced and of excellent quality. Wine and beer are cheaper than a bottle of water here. Even the WiFi is incredibly fast. Cost of living is cheap and the Island checks off most of our boxes for a possible home base or investment for the future. One other plus, compared to the EU, people here tend to smoke less.

So back to the beach…the one thing the US has on every beach in the world we’ve been to is the desire to keep the country clean. Beaches, parking lots, natural environments. I love to look for beach glass, stones and trinkets. Seems no matter where I go I can pick up a half melted price of hard plastic waste that looks like a stone. There’s bits and pieces of various plastics and cans and a mountain of cigarette butts. And still, it’s too bad that this is “not too bad.”

The sun is warm today, we’ve had two days of rain, wind and heavy surf and the sea is calm and inviting. The warm water surrounds you in a warm watery blanket. Bobbing up and down like a bottle on the sea with a secret letter inside. Cares just drift away as the rhythm of the waves take over all sound. You melt into the calm.

The definitive line between horizon and sky is more like the edge of a mirror, reflecting sea onto sky. A few ghostly clouds from the storms, hang far-off on the horizon. The sea claps again breaking my stare.

Impressions of Montenegro

I am sitting on Red Beach as I have been doing everyday for this last week. Some days the sea laps calmly at the pebble beach, other days it has full on breakers causing the rocky beach to tumble into the sea as the wave recedes. The rolling sound of rocks in water has been a favorite of mine since moving to Utah 30+ years ago although rolling rocks in water are from rivers in Utah.

I look out over the expanse of calm blue water, shimmering in the sun like diamonds in a jewelers light. Heads bob up and down with a few diehard swimmers covering the shoreline as far as you can see. There’s no sand castles to be built on this beach, better for piling rock cairns or separating the colors for more artistic endeavors. Daredevils climb the limestone rocks several meters from shore and do cannon balls to the delight of their friends. Sunbathers lie half naked on the pebbles or spend a few euros for a sun bed and are waited on by the cute bar tender, John, who slinks across rocky surface like a sure footed lizard, balancing his tray full of drinks. The air is thick with the smell of the salty, ion filled breezes, wafting off the sea. For today, this is my home.

We have spent the last 2 1/2 weeks on the shore. Each town has its colored pebble beaches, a few sandier beaches spread around, but more the exception than the rule. The water is warm and refreshing and clear as glass. Small colored fish swim in the depths and appear to be only a few inches from the surface, but in fact, are 3-4 meters down. The water itself is incredible salty, allowing you to literally sit in the water, head above and hands and feet quietly floating. I’ve been told by locals that this sea has healing minerals and some declare they are now cured of their aches and pains just from swimming. All I know is it has been good for relaxation, afternoon naps and loosening up achy backs from sleeping on poor mattresses. There’s a lulling found in the gentle lapping sound of the waves.

Seashore towns are perched on the rocky shorelines like a perfect game of dominos, each with its share of hundreds of ancient stone stairways going straight up from the nearest switchback cut out for streets.

Tomorrow we pack up our stuff once more to migrate deeper into Montenegro and the “black mountains” as its name translates. There are a total of 5 National Parks in Montenegro and we will hit at least 3 while we are here. The mountains are 1500-2000 meters high and rise abruptly from the seashores. Montenegro is not devoid of seasons. The leaves are beginning to show colors of red, gold and yellow. The mountains are not exempt from a good snow fall come late fall and winter. There are ski resorts and outside activities such as hunting, fishing, and tons of snow sports. The towns fall into a sort of slumber after being drunk with tourists all summer. The sun hangs low in the sky, the pace slows, the heat dissipates, the sea grows cold, and the nights grow long. Wood is collected to heat the homes in the mountains and the sea-shore dwellers, make necessary repairs and ready their homes for the next surge of visitors come Spring.

Living as Hard as we can…Two Travelin’ Chicas

It’s sometimes hard to slow down and take time to organize my thoughts. We have now been on the road for almost 4 months, not including our 2 years of vanlife. We have visited Ireland, Scotland, Portugal mainland from Sintra to the Algarve Coast, Madeira Island, San Miguel Island in the Azores, Germany, Austria and Spain. We are currently on our way to wrap up our Schengen EU Visa in Dubrovnik, Croatia. From there moving down into Montenegro for at least a month, which used to be Yugoslavia until 1991. From there who knows where?

São Miguel , Portugal

It sometimes feels like we’ve been gone for so long, and at times I want it to just stop and go “home”, but where is that? My heart is filled with gladness, my mind filled with curiosity. There is just so much of the world to explore. I must admit, at times, we have to pass up some countries we’d love to explore due to many different reasons, both political and uneasy feelings about traveling there as two women. We are playing it on the side of caution when if we were younger, we might throw that same caution to the wind.

Does that mean that we are older and wiser? Life is more precious? Probably…

In the last 2 years, we have been taught a lesson in the value of living life as if it were your last day on earth. I tear up just thinking of family members lost too soon and those that lived out their lives to the fullest and just came to the end of life’s road, including my grandmother and our faithful corgi, Gandaulf. It is part of our motivation to do all we can while we are healthy and able to.

Another motivating force is the all encompassing world of climate change. Since we’ve been retired and living in the world as nomads, living with and off the land around us, we have seen the changes first hand. Coastal flooding, unbearable heat and harsh winters. Storms off the charts. It seems that every year we are breaking records of all types, rain, heat, hurricanes, snowfall, wild fires, ocean temps rising, and drought, to name a few. Perhaps it is the way the earth is trying to wipe us off like a festering tick sucking the life blood out of her? It is everywhere and my heart is saddened to think it may be too late to reverse. Perhaps it is just the way it is going to be and we all will pay dearly in the end. In the meantime, here we are off on another adventure to see all we can before it is gone. We are doing all we can to reduce our carbon footprint, but we are just a minuscule part.

Galápagos Tortoise

Do you know?

Since the 26th of July, Chris and I have been house and pet sitting in Yator, Granada, Spain. It’s a sleepy little town with only one tiny cafe on the main street. The town is in an area called Camino Montenegro.

We agreed to do a pet/house sit for a German expat who owns a little farm up on the mountain outside of Yator. It’s a tiered farm with several raised gardens of all the normal vegetables, fruit trees, including pomegranate, apple, cherry, lime and figs. There’s a patch of just tomato plants and a vine garden of peas, beans, assorted squash, melons and cucumbers. There is also 30 or more olive trees, heavy with fruit, and two large Spanish Almond trees full of nuts.

Each morning we water all the trees and gardens, by hand, plus the ornamental plants on all three levels. In the cool morning air, hangs the scent of honeysuckle from the numerous honeysuckle vines covering the red dirt. Growing wild throughout the property are the herbs, rosemary and oregano, and the raised gardens have basil, parsley and chives. Basically, we have all the food we could ever need or want from the land. Watering of all these delicacys is done by gravity fed hoses at several stations throughout the property and takes about and hour and a half with both of us watering.

The water we drink comes from a spring located even further up the hill and 3 times a week we must turn on the feed to fill the water tank with fresh spring water. The tank is about 14 feet square by 14 feet deep. With the watering, showers and daily consumption, we take the tank down about 2 feet a day. The water is cold and clear and tastes delicious without the chemical additives in normal tap water.

One thing that has always been hard for us, since we’ve been in the road, has been getting vegetables into our diet. They are bulky and took up a lot of room when we lived in the van, and traveling around Europe for the last 3+ months, we’ve been at the mercy of the restaurants to get our veggies. Mostly we get potatoes or something that resembles squash, always over cooked or fried, and never fresh.

For the last 3 weeks, we have been eating fresh from the gardens, trying out new roasted veggies, beets, carrots and leeks. We’ve been making home-made salsa from the tomatoes we grow and the purchase of peppers and onions from women set up on street corners, selling the excess from their gardens, harvested that same day. Cooking meats with the herbs we grow and making delicious side dishes with the variety of squashes we grow. We’ve been making fresh salads with the lettuce, carrots and cucumbers we grow. It is very rewarding.

It is such a huge thing to know where our food is coming from, how fresh it is, that it is grown without chemicals and picked by our own hands. There’s something to be said for that, which never really crossed my mind until now.

Do you know where your food comes from? There are horrifying documentaries on how our food is grown, the process and effect of GMOs, fertilizers and other chemicals used to produce bigger yields and to keep the pests away. The impact we are having on the land, water and our bodies. I guess it took us slowing down here, putting in the effort and love it takes growing our own truly organic food, and being enlightened by these documentaries, to really understand and come to value this little humble farm.

Our next few months will be spent in Montenegro and perhaps Bosnia, both countries pride themselves on their clean food, clean air and clean water. I hope that we have learned a lesson and will begin to appreciate locally sourced food, grown with love, sweat and clean practices. Perhaps our carbon footprint will get even smaller which for us, is something we are proud of.

Austria…A Small Peek

Let me start by saying that Austria was never on our radar until one night, sitting in a Fado Bar in Portugal, I asked the couple adjacent to us where they were from. They couldn’t stop talking about their homeland Austria, with its beauty and diversity. Well, that got the ball rolling.

We arrived in Austria two weeks ago during which time we’ve ridden bikes along the Danube River, slept on a riverboat that followed, walked all over Vienna, Salzburg, and Innsbruck, and paddled down the glacier-fed Inn River on a white water rafting trip in Haiming.

Our eyes have seen soaring, snow capped mountains of the Tyrollean Alps, the wide river Danube, tamed by lochs and diversion dams, hundreds of castles, monasteries, waterfalls and bridges that span great gorges. We’ve walked the cobbled stone streets of cities that date back to Roman times with fortresses built on high plateaus. We’ve heard the chorus of church bells that echo through the canyons and valleys. All have brought joy to our hearts.

Austria is a cultural melting pot as well. A place that holds the horrors of wars and the pride of triumph over aggression. Many homes perched high on the mountain sides have hand carved wooden facades. Statues skillfully carved and fountains honoring royalty, scholars and musicians, are skillfully etched in stone and bronze. Roman gods and goddesses and mythical beings tower over us mere mortals as we walk by. Story after story of uprise and defeat are engrained in the lives of the souls that live there. The hard working people and the pride each holds in their heart to be Austrian. The wonderful smiles and cheerful hellos make even the loneliest traveler feel at home.

An indelible set if memories have been etched into my mind and captured in our photographs. It’s definitely worth the visit.

São Miguel: The Green Island

Our time in São Miguel was educational and full of new sights and sounds. It is a volcanic island, considered still active. There are 3 main calderas, the largest and most active is Furnas, last eruption 1650. Inside it’s caldera is several lakes of blue, green and orange. There is a section of bubbling hot mud pots and fumaroles and a small gyser. There is the most amazing castle on Lagoa Verde. It is intricate in design and has made itself part of the surroundings with the various lichen, mosses and plants, growing on the outside of its delicately carved spires.

The town of Furnas is geared around tourists visiting for hiking, bird watching, kayaking and of course soaking in one of the two thermal hot spring pools. most of the restaurants serve a meat stew baked in the volcanic ovens built into the ground. In Furnace again and to the Terra Nostra Parque. I was in heaven. A guy from Boston came to the island and created the most wonderful display of plants and trees from around the globe and they thrive in the humidity and rainfall. There are trees here that at one point were thought extinct and others that are true dinosaurs.

The soaring calderas are heavily draped in clouds and fog most afternoons, adding an eeriness to their already opposing height. They sweep up from the ocean in massive lava cliffs, battered by time and the elements for 300 thousand years, just a hiccup in geological time. They flatten out into a lush green plateau covered in verdant green pastures and farms. Dotted amongst them are the ancient cinder cones, some now also covered in lush green. From the flats the volcanoes shoot literally straight up with deep grottos and gouges cut out by the rain and intermittent lava flows. The flora and fauna is just as amazing. Every color you can imagine is represented here in bloom, insect, lizard, rock or foliage.

There was so much to explore on this small island, from grottos to wall lined streets, beautiful hidden beaches, hikes that when rated as easy, included a 350m rise and fall, some got you lost is thick natural forests and other lead along cliff sides and up into the caldera lakes. There are mirador spots (view points) all along the roads and picnic areas where families can gather and cook up meals. On one Sunday, a feast for St John was being celebrated in one of these little picnic parks. We were looking for the northern most point of São Miguel when Siri lead down a skinny dirt road surrounded by 10’ lava rock walls. We bottomed out several times before we found a pull out and walked the rest of the way. We were not let down. The views were incredible, the best on the island so far. There were basalt tower crystals of octagonal shape, not found in this condition anywhere else on the island. It was simply breath-taking. We walked back to our car and drove back up to the “town” and stopped to eat lunch. A small house stood on the corner that looked like a small cafe, so I wondered in asking if I could buy a couple beers, in my best Portuguese. A small woman sold me 2 out of her fridge (€2) and gave us a bowl of spicey fava beans and we blew kisses to a young girl and traded thumbs up. Another gal came around with a bottle of wine and 2 paper cups and poured us some wine. It’s always fun and scary at the same time to mingle with the locals on this level.

All in all it was a memorable experience and the diversity of flora and fauna, landscapes and brightly colored towns were like out of a fairytale. The work of Mother Nature and the care given by the inhabitants was a carefully orchestrated balance we were glad to experience and become immersed in.

Madeira to São Miguel

Madeira Island is a lovely, lush green island that sits about 500 miles east of Portugal mainland. Volcanic in it’s development, the island has rich soil for growing. It is also mountainous and rich with thermally heated ocean pools on the coast, mostly concentrated in Porto Moniz and Seixal. Don’t be fooled by the “thermally heated” part, these pools are actually cool at 20-22 degrees Celsius (68-70 Fahrenheit) and quite refreshing on a hot day. Porto Moniz is definitely geared around tourism, the shops and restaurants close early as the tour buses leave and the place becomes a ghost town.

We stayed in a lovely, modern guesthouse in between the commercially run “swimming pools” and the natural “free” pools. We were within walking distance of many restaurants, most serving ice cream, pizza, and the local fare.

The last night we found a “local” restaurant serving meat on a skewer, or shish-cá-bobs at home, using Rodízio Grill style long metal spits grilled over an open flame served hanging from a stand for us to pull off as we wished. They also served the “catch of the day”, local breads and octopus based foods, including an octopus sandwich.

One thing we became well aware of while in Porto Moniz and then other eating establishments, sadly there is a locals price and a tourist price and the song and dance the waiters give for why your meal is more than the price in the menu is quite elaborate, ranging from VAT taxes to oh I made a mistake. They often will send out a coligue to accept your payment hoping you don’t notice. Our largest error was around $15 off at a restaurant we found a bit out of the city square. We haggled and still ended up $10 too high. Café Atlântico was the name of this restaurant. Also be aware that they will put bread and some sort of a sauce or perhaps just garlic bread with cheese on your table, much like chips-n-salsa at a Mexican restaurant, but then will charge you if you eat it.

This is one of over 150 tunnels on the island that connects the north, south and west part of Madeira…an engineering feat in and of itself. It used to take over 7 hours to go from Funchal to Punto Moniz, most volcanic islands make you drive up and over then down the other side, now it takes under an hour. Being prone to landslides, this was a viable option and made it easy to travel to all of the island.
This was the alley/walkway into Câmara do Lobos from our hotel.
The harbor.
Trash Art

After several days in Porto Moniz, and driving around to the small villages above the sea cliffs, we drove back through the tunnels to Câmara de Lobos, a sleepy fishing town where everything is also straight up from the sea port. There is a system of steep stairs and “alleyways” to ascend and descend. This town is hundreds of years old and not built for automobile travel. They are making changes and building infrastructure to accommodate busses and trucks, but if you choose to rent a car…make it a really really small one. If you stay up on the hill, chances are you will encounter a small “street” which has two way traffic and is barely big enough for one often with the mirrors having to be folded in.

The road to our hotel

In town it was fun to see how the sea side villagers are taking plastic, tin and aluminum “trash”, and turning it onto colorful and imaginative artwork. Between the artwork and lights strung high above the streets, the atmosphere is quite festive. Stop in for a sample of a local drink called Poncha. It is said to be the drink of the fishermen, or their medicine. It is a combination of honey, muddled lemon and orange with some peel, sugar and aguardente de cana (rum). It is a traditional drink developed on Madeira and said to be drank before going out at night to catch the Scabbard fish, a long black snake-like fish with huge eyes and a mouth full of fangs. They come up at night to feed and the fishermen are waiting. The meat from these fish is not very oily so it doesn’t taste very fishy but has a mild flavor and firm texture. They are considered a delicacy.

After a week in Madeira, we hopped on an early flight to São Miguel, the biggest island in the Açores. We in arrived Punta Delgada before 7am…earlier than the shops open, with the exception of the coffee shops, so we wondered around the cobbled stone streets and sidewalks. The streets and squares were black and white cobbled stones in flowing swirls with intricate patterns. The store fronts followed the weaving streets, painted in pastel colors with rot iron accents on windows and narrow decks of volcanic stone. Some buildings dating back into the early seventeenth century. Churches and government buildings dotted the corners of the open city squares. Statues to the Archangel Micheal adorned buildings and reflecting pools in the squares. One journey ended and a whole new one was about to begin.

And the trip goes on…

It’s our last day in Lisbon and we are hanging out at the Home Lisbon Hostel. It’s a beautiful place to hang for sure. Great people, great staff, bathrooms, a kitchen and good WiFi. We had a marvelous night listening to Fado. Fado is a traditional music in Portugal and other Latino countries. It’s a song that tells a story, similar to opera or country/folk music. Last night we had a male and female singer accompanied by two guitarist, one 6 sting traditional guitar and one 10 string round body guitar. The expressiveness of the singers and the guitarist was very dramatic and understanding the words didn’t really matter, they were transmitted through the operatic voice giving me the chills and bringing tears to my eyes.

After an exquisite meal at Tasquinha Restaurant, located on a street atop “the elevator”, an escalator in the middle of nowhere on the way up to the Lisbon Castle, Sao George Castle. We happened upon it at lunchtime and found out, from the owner, all about Fado, so we made a booking for dinner.

All of June is a festival of the saints. Every night there is live music and partying revelers flood the streets outside cafes and bars/pubs. Because Portugal is a safe place, many people from Ukraine come here to escape the war, swelling the population, making bookings in advance a must.

Everything slows down here except the traffic. While moving from our guesthouse, Archi-Pelagro, our Bolt driver (similar to Uber), was faced head on by an electric trolley driver who would not let us and the 3 cars behind us pass. Our driver got out of his car after a horn blowing contest, and reasoned with the driver of the trolley to backup about 10 feet so the three cars could narrowly pass beside him, driving over the curb. Driving in old town Lisbon is difficult at best. On the hills, the electric trolleys rule the streets.

We’ve walked, or rather climbed over 40 miles this 5 days. That may not sound like much, but with all streets at a 12-15% grade, it’s quite an achievement. Liken to climbing the Eiffel Tower and back down. Most streets have narrow cobbled stone travertine walkways and other pedestrian walkways through what we would consider scary or unsafe back in the states, but here they are old alleyways, brimming with history. One of the streets/alleyways last night contained a sign and photos of the elderly residents of the street and recognition of how they’ve become iconic influencers during their lives. So cool!

We have been planning our adventure as we go along. Last night we sat beside an Austrian couple on holiday, driving from their home in Austria to Portugal and back. I asked them if they had a week in Austria, what would they do? Non-touristy stuff. Francesca started going in about the Danube River from Passau, Germany all the way to Venice via a self-guided electric bike tour. Now how totally cool is that?! An e-bike here is more like a moped, and a Pedelc, is an electronic assist bike. We spent the morning looking into these trips and planning our trip after the Azores.

Our next stop is Madeira and The Azores. The Algarve coast is the beginning of the Mediterranean Sea. We found the perfect town to visit about 50 miles west of Faro, Portugal, Carvoeiro, Portugal. There is just about anything you could want from sea kayaking, to hiking cliffs and dunes. Stay tuned for a post.