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Salema, A Fishing Village

February 13, 2002

Dear Friends and Families,

We've been travelling since the beginning of October, four-and-a-half months ago. Our plan was to go from the north of Western Europe to the southwest. The day before yesterday, we drove as far south and west as possible, to Portugal's Cabo de St. Vincente. Now what? But, before we try to understand and explain the rest of our lives, an accomplishment that has eluded us for over fifty years, we'll give a flavor of our end-of-the-road stop.

We drove out of Cordoba and passed by Seville. We felt a bit guilty for not stopping, but we were not ready for a big city, even one as highly touted as Seville. Instead, we chose to drive straight through to the Algarve coast of Portugal. Most of the drive was on open, four-lane highway. Distances seem much shorter since we've gotten used to European highway speeds (140 kph or about 90 mph).

For a break, we pulled off into Ayamonte, a coastal resort at the edge of Spain. We stopped at a pleasant Paradore Hotel and enjoyed good coffee and apple pie. The Paradore is on a knoll looking out over the river estuary that separates Spain and Portugal, a very tranquil setting. However, looking out toward the sea, we could see another series of high-rise condos stretching out to the horizon on the Portugal side. Our guidebook assured us that Salema, our goal, was the last of the sleepy fishing villages on this Algarve coastline and we hoped it was right.

Once across the bridge into Portugal, the four-lane road, and the condominiums, continued for a good distance. Eventually, however, the road went down to two lanes and the resort developments seemed at least a bit more under control. Past the small city of Lagos, the road was small enough that we were encouraged that we had put high-rise developments behind us.

Salema is at the end of a small road linking the town to the coastal road. The town was hidden until the last turn, but when we rounded the bend, we indeed saw a fishing village, not high rise condos. We would later learn that Salema has developed a split personality, with fishermen and tourists coexisting but at this time of year, the fishermen have the upper hand.

Our small hotel, "A Mare", is on a small hill just up from the town square. It's run by John, a genial Englishman. He had promised that our one-bedroom apartment was "spectacular" and he was right. We had a large deck and a view of the town square and beach from almost every window. We had a kitchen, in case Marianne still remembered how to cook, but four of Salema's several restaurants were also open at this time of year. We could get used to this.

I'll write a separate diary on our day-trips out from Salema. In fact, most of our time was spent simply relaxing at home. In the mornings, we met the bread man as he made his delivery to the small trailer-store. The fruit and vegetable "store" also sprang up in the town square morning sun. Ultimately, Marianne did do some cooking and we dined on the deck. We experimented with half of the town's restaurants too and enjoyed the good and inexpensive meals.

To feel productive, Marianne and I took pictures and worked on our trip records. One morning, I got up before dawn to get some sunrise shots of town. The sun came up OK, but the pictures were either out of focus or just plain dull, so I had to try again the next morning. Up before dawn seemed almost like work (almost) but the pictures of both the town and the surf were a bit better. However, pictures are still not as good as being there.

We did our share of beach walking. While it was never hot enough for serious sunbathing, the sun was usually warm and we were reminded that this was the weather we had sought. Along the beach, we both took shots of the bright fishing boats. The fishermen go out at dawn and come back a couple hours later. I never saw them bring back much. I swear their real living is paid by the local tourism organization in order to keep Salema quaint and colorful. Whatever the cost, it's worth it.

It will be hard to leave Salema. This is especially true since we are on our way back to the cold of Kyiv next week on Tuesday the 19th. We still have no set future, so a major goal of our Kyiv stay is to make some progress on getting work. We can't just hang around forever, eating from the bread man and vegetable truck, taking pictures and getting sun tans. Can we?

Take care. Stay in touch. Pray for a lottery win.

John and Marianne

 

 

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Created February 23, 2002

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