Mushroom hunting. Setúbal. Portugal

For quite some time, I had lost the spark of adventure and the thirst for exploration. I had grown hesitant and indecisive, even in simple things like venturing out into nature and following hidden paths. But yesterday, something stirred in me. I felt a sudden urge to face the unknown and savor freedom again.

It was a short walk in the nearby forest, our first mushroom hunt of the season. We had two young energetic couchsurfers staying with us. When I told them we were going to look for wild mushroom spots, their eyes sparkled. “Finally, we’ll learn how to forage for our food when we camp!” — they exclaimed.

There were a few hardly visible trails in the woods that I had noticed before but never got around to tracing them. We waded through thick undergrowth and thorny vines, until we reached a clearing where oily brown caps glistened under the pine needles and grass. Gradually making our way across the dense greenery, we filled the bags with Slippery Jack fungi, a delicious treat.

We were lucky enough to find several abundant mushroom spots along the trails not marked on any map. We ended up on a private field, but like in many places in Portugal, the only guards there were chickens and geese that swiftly abandoned their posts as we approached.

Microadventures are my favorite way of traveling. This bountiful walk gifted me the magic of free wandering, which is so easily forgotten once you temporarily settle down.