Collecting Moments

We’re standing on land that once belonged to the sea. Beneath the sheer cliffs, the blue recedes to expose giant gills. They are blackened with age and jut out of the sand. The sea breathes with every wave and ebb.   It's the realm of gradual change that leaves its mark on the ground once covered by water. Time is revealed in the layers of rock.     We are here to witness, to observe, to contemplate as we walk along a soft, narrow path.       The floor of the bay is carved by salt. The turquoise lace of the waves blankets the beach. The ocean is gradually reclaiming what once belonged to it, licking the shores. These eroded cliffs yawn into eternity.         We are here to live the present as we move away from the coast and into the pine forest. In the morning we sit on a terrace overlooking the vast fields of the Alentejo. Th...

I am in Serro Ventoso, the interior of Portugal that never appears on colorful postcards in tourist shops. Here it is the realm of the green palette: pine, sage, emerald and their various shades. It is the land of white, milky mist that covers the hills. The thick fog that comes from the ocean and nourishes the soil, the locals say. People here are tough and resilient. The harshness of the landscape is reflected in their faces. They greet strangers with a piercing, stern gaze, not frowning, but not smiling either. For centuries, people have struggled in this rocky land, where rivers and waterfalls fill only after heavy rains. "When I was growing up, we had very little fruit. Only apples and figs in season. There was not enough water in this region to grow fruit," says 65-year-old Filomena. She and her nine siblings were all born in the same house where she now lives with her husband, their daughter and her boyfriend. The younger generation of the family works outside the vi...

Иногда я думаю, как вернуть себе русский язык. Что почитать или посмотреть. Потом быстро вспоминаю, что мне надо не русский возвращать, а обретать португальский. Закрываю интервью с Верой Полозковой и включаю радио, по которому передают новости края Европы на Иберийском полуострове. Я Катя. У меня три паспорта и почти каждый день в разных ситуациях я использую четыре языка. Ни один из них не является для меня больше родным. Вернее, не так. Ни одним из них я не владею на уровне родного. На русском я почти ничего не пишу с 24 февраля 2022 года, с тех пор, как началась эта страшная война. Она застала нас в походе на юге Испании. Та зима в Андалусии выдалась знойной, и мы в каждом месте останавливались на пару дней, чтобы залечить мозоли после долгих часов в пути. Помню, как я проснулась в хостеле для пилигримов, где кроме нас с Максом в ту ночь никто не останавливался. Мы спали в большой просторной комнате с шестью двухэтажными кроватями. Я прочитала новости и посмотрела на Макса, его л...

- Do you mind if I take a picture of you? - Not at all. Especially after you’ve asked permission! That's how my brief conversation with a shepherd began. He seemed happy to chat and tell me a little about his life. These human interactions are the most precious moments of travel. That is why on our trips around the world we always combine walking in nature, hitchhiking and staying with locals. That particular day was filled with pleasant encounters as the path led us to the village of Linhares da Beira. We were lucky enough to not only meet the friendly shepherd, but also talk to Maria, the owner of a cozy café, and run into a familiar face from the town where we used to live . Since we left, our friend has gotten a job in the county council and is now trying to improve the region’s tourist facilities. Our hike, a comfortable ten-kilometer loop , gave us plenty of time to wander the labyrinth of medieval streets and explore the village. We ventured off the well-trodden pat...

The day at the farm began with a magical misty dawn. The fog, like a softly spun shawl, wrapped everything in its tender embrace. I stepped out of the van and paused to listen to the morning song of small birds piercing the air through the thick white blanket. We had a leisurely breakfast as the mist gradually gave way to sunshine. It was going to be a relaxed day of swimming and easy hiking. We set off towards the lakes we had seen the day before . This time we followed an unmarked, partly overgrown trail that zig-zagged through the fields with a few ruined cottages scattered along the road. Locals suggested we explore former tungsten mines just above the lakes. We took their advice literally and followed a path that led us to some abandoned structures that we had spotted on Google Earth. As it turned out, we had discovered a deserted quinta with a concrete reservoir and red brick towers that looked very much out of place. Those were quite unusual for this region where houses are ...

The day before, we arrived at our friends' fertile farmland near the picturesque village of Figueiró da Serra. This idyllic spot is cradled within the embrace of the Serra da Estrela Natural Park, a place that suffered a catastrophic fire two years ago. Since that tragic event, nature has shown its resilience and the slopes are now a vibrant tapestry of green and yellow. But blackened, charred trunks of dead trees still protrude from the lush undergrowth, their skeletal forms etched against the sky. These are stark reminders of the ferocity of the blaze, a dance of death that consumed everything in its path. Our friends who have returned to their ash-covered land have since joined forces with the local community to form an association called Veredas da Estrela . Their mission: to protect the fragile ecosystems and fortify them against future fires. The term 'veredas' , known locally as 'bredas' in the Serra da Estrela region, refers to narrow trails carved into t...