Orange picking.

When in Portugal and Spain we have often scrumped oranges - but only off branches overhanging the road !! or ones that have already fallen onto the roadside and will probably be disregarded as there is an incredible abundance of oranges over here. Surprise, surprise !!

While staying near Idanha Nova we often drove into town to stock up with comestibles from Intermarche (of all things). Finding a portugese shop open was a nightmare no matter what time we walked around the town it seemed - we much prefer finding the local goodies for sale but were on a losing streak here.

Anyway, time after time we had passed a little smallholding in a sleepy village called Senora de Graca on the roadside about 2 miles from the town itself. The house was tiny, but on one side was a wonderful orange grove and on the other side olive trees. Outside the gate on a post was a little basket with 3/4 oranges in - these were here each time we passed.

 

We speculated about whether they were for just helping yourself to or whether they were for sale. On our last day in the area my better half had gone for a mammoth cycle ride and I had driven into town for a last wander about.

On the way back to the campsite I pulled over into a layby opposite the little farm and walked over and called around to see if anyone was at home. Out pops a little old lady, very friendly but as neither of us could understand the other it was a sort of game to make yourself understood .

Bit like charades.....but without the other team knowing what the rules were !!

Anyway she eventually got the drift - I'd like to buy some oranges please. Then she began talking about how many kilos, 5,10,15 etc. I sort of showed her a flat-hand-fingers-up for 5 and off we went. Kilos of oranges is a new concept for me so goodness knows how many that would be!

She picked up a bucket and motioned for me to follow her down the path into the garden!! What was I thinking - that she'd have a store cupboard of them all nicely picked - oh no. I trotted after her taking photos - I was so excited by the whole escapade. Then she picked up a very modern looking aluminium ladder and propped it up against one of the orange trees.

Oh my god, I thought, she's going to climb up and get fresh ones for me. She looked a goodly age and was roundly formed (but then, so am I) and I had a pang of conscience, so, I motioned that I'd go up instead. She swirled her hand in front of her head - indicating giddyiness - and I thought does she mean me or her !!



Anyway I gingerly stepped up the ladder feeling the branches sway and give beneath me. Heights are just not my things at all any more, so I was being very brave. Really.

If she' d been any younger and more sprightly I'd have certainly let her do the grappling bit for me.

I reached out and, picked (well, actually the word should be plucked - as they were surprisingly hard to wrestle off the tree) a couple of oranges and passed them down to her, the other hand desperately holding on tightly to the ladder !! She was amused by this and wriggled in under the tree and hung the bucket from one of rungs. She's done this a few times before I thought quietly to myself !! She motioned for reaching over to pick the big ones, but all this was making the branches sway like crazy.

The ground underneath was dug over and bare and looked like it would be a softish landing if things did go pear shaped.

In the meantime I was also trying to take photos as a memory aid ........

I calmed, and after a while the bucket was full of beautiful fresh firm oranges.


We walked back to her front yard through her veg patch (me snapping away on the camera); she put the oranges into a carrier bag and weighed the lot in one go - well, it was over the maximum 5 kilo mark by a mile but this didn't concern her at all.

She said the price - sounded like 50 cents - I fished around in my handbag and took out all my ready cash and held it out in my hand for her to help herself. She took a couple of coins but this seemed such a paltry price that in the end I gave her a 5 Euro note. She wouldn't take it to start with but I persevered and she gave me a lovely smile and said 'obrigado' - portugese for thanks.

Both happy.




Back at the campsite, hubby and I sampled one when he eventually arrived back from his bike hike. We have found that sometimes they are not always as sweet as they look !!!

Thank goodness, they were deliciously sweet and juicy.


A happy ending.

Portugal ?!

 
Having talked at length about maybe maybe going to Portugal again this spring - mainly for an orienteering event called the POM - the major event in the portugese orienteering calendar it seems - we at last decided, fixed a date, and, booked the ferry on fri....... to actually leave Warminster on sunday..... and take the Britanny Ferry from Portsmouth down to Bilbao, a trip of 24hrs on the high seas roughly.

From there we would drive awhile to a campsite and set up overnight then leave early in order to arrive at Idanha a Nova in Baira Baixa, a province in mid Portugal, in time to set up camp and have an evening meal and early bed. This was the plan at least !!


We packed the caravan and Land Rover, taking the awning as well with us - hoping for some finer weather so to be able to eat outside, or at least under cover outside if need be. We have a double electric hotplate which we set up on a camp kitchen in the awning and we always prefer to cook there if at all possible. Otherwise, the whole caravan just smells continuously of food !! and of course, mostly of garlic.....ok for a while only.

Also, where else do you put your damp soggy smelly walking boots and trainers to dry off ?? Coats, towels, dish cloths, swimming costumes ...... everything seems to get wet and damp on holiday. At home, all this stuff is hardly noticeable, but in a caravan it is a nightmare. Chinese laundry style ....not good for the soul. I need a peaceful calming environment. So it all stays out in the awning out of sight (most of the time at least).

Sunday morning arrives, and the car is laden with last minute stuff (where does it all come from?) and we are excited about the trip. 12 o'clock and we got a text from the ferry company - CANCELLED - due to a raging storm in the Bay of Biscay !!! The next ferry would be on Tuesday....aarrgghh. Now what. A walk in the forest, a swim, more food shopping. Normal life for another couple of days.

Bit of an anti-climax really but nothing we could do about it. Philosophical ? - we are.

Dwarfed !!

And so, we pottered about, house tidying-up, Philip on his computer non-stop it seemed, checking up maps etc in Portugal, and me just resorting our bags !! deadly, I'm sure I kept adding things I might need, art stuff, knitting, my tapestry, more books and so on...

Tuesday, we prep to go, and again - a text at mid-day to say that the ferry was cancelled, very sorry etc but same reason, same wild waves and howling wind in Bay of Biscay. O M G I feel we are destined not to go at all. Another night in Warminster.

Tyres on their way down to Jerez for a Grand Prix practice !! 

Wednesday, no text so off we go. Hooray, cant believe it's actually happening after all the delays and disappointments. Fetch the caravan from storage in Frome, and head off to Portsmouth.

  We arrive in good time; I am one of those people who just hate being late and under pressure so make sure that we leave promptly for wherever we want to go to, - if we are early so much the better and so much more chilled. Civilised.

Now for Philip it is another matter altogether. Time - what's that ????    ....what do you mean late ?

I actually think this way of thinking was drummed into me while I lived in Germany - I was told over and over that to be late is very very rude to the one who is waiting for you ??!! so now I am ultra cautious about timings and make sure the journey and arrival time is manageable. phew......who wants stress at our age ? why ?

The ferry was comfortable, the cabin adequate, well in fact, compared to the caravan it was very adequate !! Ensuite shower room with loo and sink, twin beds, lots of spare bedding, separate wardrobes, huge mirrors, dressing table etc. I could live in there quite easily.

Only thing missing was radio 4 !!

It was a bit like a warm and cosy coccoon; eventually it would be claustrophobic. We did like to wander round in the gusting fresh air outside now and then indeed.


Last time we travelled on one of these long haul ferries we were entertained by a full-on cabaret with comedian and dancing girls etc etc. This time, mid winter, it was bingo, pub quiz and card making classes !! quite a come-down ?

 A husband and wife team were in charge of the 'entertainment' and bless them, they put their heart and soul into the effort but bingo with 8 people ?? bit like christmas at home on your own really !!

Fearsome horns !

I joined in with everything, Philip put up with me joining in (he likes to humour me when it suits him) and I was definitely in holiday mood so - get some fun while you can. I always reckon everything is fun if you have the right attitude to it. Even cycling.......I have yet to find this really really fun though.

I am persevering with this one as Philip seems to adore cycling !!! Easier on his knees I gather than running. Walking never seems to give me any problems which is why I love it so much.

There, that is how we got there - a very very quiet campsite, about 100 m from a beautiful lake, surrounded by charming olive trees, cork oaks and free-roaming cattle.



Rural idyll.

Loro Parque

I cannot believe that we managed to persuade my better half to accompany us to this marvellous park. In reality though, I think it was the chap we met at the Laguna who persuaded him that it was well worth a visit and the extortionate entry fee - something like 30 Euros each !! a small fortune. Usually if we have to pay much entry fee at all we don't do it and forgo that pleasure -whatever it would have been !

We trot off nice and early, the three of us, and wended our way over to the park down the hill and along the sea front. This was at least a mile, if not more. Luckily we are trooper walkers.

We queue, we pay and we enter.

 
Walking admiringly past the carp ponds we immediately find ourselves by the Gorilla enclosure.
 A patient wait and wow - what magnificent creatures.

Huge, powerful yet docile; they seemed amused by our attentions.
We could hardly drag ourselves away but ...

.....next was the Sea Lions, and again, wow..... what a show. They are performers.

How they train these wild creatures is a mystery - continuous rewards were noticed though. Fish by the bucketfull was devoured, and each trick had its prize.

Then it was the dolphin show - what can I say - man and fish in unison?
These creatures can practically read your mind it seems. Spectacular.

We wandered around, admired all the parrots, parakeets, orchids, flamingoes, turtles and the meerkats. Then we stopped and sat down for lunch.

The chimps, well to be quite honest, I found these creatures to be quite gloomy.









Then the quite spectacular penguin house which had snow falling inside the dome and also a moving walkway to keep spectators on the go ! This I really loved - the largest colony of penguins outside the poles. On land they seem almost comical as they strutt around, but wow, watch them underwater as we could and they absolutely came to life as they dived and ducked about and reminded me totally of teenage boys just enjoying the fun of being alive and whooping it up !

One penguin in particular was a star - zipping around and leaping out of the water at top speed. He was having a great time, a performer indeed.

Next, was the Killer Whale display.

This was both sad and incredible at the same time. These huge creatures were performing for us mere humans - it felt quite wrong. Astounded, I sat there along with all the others, but in my heart I was weeping - these animals ought to be out there in the wilds roaming the oceans not doing tricks to amuse us !!?? At the end of the show, the youngest whale perched on the central platform hugging the wall and would not move away. He seemed like a distressed teenager but who knows ? We were asked to move on.

The white tigers were waiting for us !!

beautiful, beautiful creatures. They were quite playful and chased each other around the compound.

There were many other animals but the scariest for me was the shark house !! We actually had to walk through tunnels built into the tanks and the sharks and fish were all around us. I actually had to duck to walk under the basking sharks(?) which were sort of draped over the tunnels and seemed asleep but you never knew !! and the sheer size of them - phew.

Funnily enough, back in Wiltshire, I met a lady whose son was the shark tank 'cleaner'. He'd done a diving course and spent a few years working in the Loro Park diving in amongst the various sharks, sort of tidying up. Brave chap.

In all, I definitely felt it was worth the 30 Euro entry fee. All day long we were amazed by these splendid creatures which we would never normally get to see. But, a zoo is still a zoo and creatures should be free and wild. The saving grace was that breeding programmes were in place and of course 'research' ? does that make me feel any better, I'm not sure.