Collecting Moments

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

Distance 22 km (gpx) , Elevation gain 312 m, Elevation loss 190 m On that hike we found ourselves drowning in a sea of soft sand and wading through a maze of sharp reeds. Yet, we managed to catch the last bus home from a distant cape as the sun began to set. Here’s a recount of that exhausting but rewarding day. In my ongoing quest for hidden natural swimming spots around Setúbal, I was captivated by the sight of two lakes on the map, situated to the north-west of town: Lagoa Pequena and Lagoa de Albufeira . With a quick investigation into public transport, I discovered an accessible route: a morning train to Coina, followed by bus #3540 to the Observatório das Aves . From there, I charted a 22-km hike to Cabo Espichel (the southwestern corner of the Setúbal peninsula), a journey that was supposed to follow the marked E9 route (or so I believed). As we rode the bus, a wave of concern swept over me. The endless fences lining the road seemed to suggest that our exploration of na

Distance 17 km (gpx) , Elevation gain 405 m, Elevation loss 405 m A year ago, we traded the snowy peaks for the vast ocean’s embrace. Yet, the melody of swift cascading streams and the might of roaring waterfalls in winter and spring remained etched in our hearts. The thrill of skinny dipping in the crisp months lingered in our memories as a cherished pastime. Our longing for these experiences led us to the discovery of Ribeira de Grândola , a hidden gem nestled 80 kilometers south of our coastal abode. Anticipating the chilly caress of the river against my skin, I mapped out a 17-kilometer hike that partially followed the stream’s edge. Satellite images hinted at a smaller creek in the vicinity, a secret haven perfect for bathing. The journey began with an 8:45 bus from Setúbal to Grândola, costing 7.75 euros, a fare higher than expected. Accustomed to our county’s affordable public transport, we were unpleasantly surprised. But Grândola, part of the Alentejo region, operated

We woke up in a sleepy fishing village on the north-east coast of Lanzarote. Our couchsurfing host had kindly offered us a cozy room in his house in Punta Mujeres. We thanked him for his hospitality and packed our bags. Our destination for the day was Famara, a surfers' paradise on the opposite side of the island. There we had found a host on Trustroots, a hospitality exchange website that reminded us of the old days of couchsurfing, when it was more about community than business. As we always do, we chose our favorite means of transportation - hitchhiking . It's not only faster sometimes than public transport, but also more adventurous. You never know how your day will unfold, who you'll meet on the road and what stories you'll get out of the experience. Our first ride was with a familiar face. We had seen that guy the day before in the harbor, walking his white fluffy dog. She was so popular among the kids in town, we could tell her owner was a kind person. He was