Portugal: Finding Inspiration In a Bottle
Updated: Aug 7, 2020
It isn’t hard to find excitement and fun in Tavira. If these are what you crave, this scenic location with a population of 25,000 will more than satisfy you.
Year round, the town which is on Portugal's Algarve Coast brims with opportunities for all types of adventurers.
If you love fishing, strolling long stretches of sandy beaches, swimming, surfing, enjoying fresh-caught seafood or dining outdoors, Tavira is the place to go. There are also enough shopping plazas for those who prefer to spend their times picking through the latest fashion or antique collections. Adventurers in search of historical findings will not be disappointed with the town’s castle ruins and old churches. Visit the citrus orchards or go hiking up a mountain trail.
There is something for everyone in Tavira.
I am a special kind of adventurer. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoy lazing under the twilight, and listening to the evening waves while the sands massage the feet but only if and after I have explored the local foods. I love to try the different pastries and baked products in each country and region. Thanks to the mild temperatures in Tavira, this winter, I was able to do my pastry tastings while listening to the waves and watching the sun go down.
But after a few days of sweet treats and the sounds of the sea, we wanted a different kind of inspiration. We wanted out of the city and away from all that the civilization. So we packed some sweet treats and on a fateful day, we jumped in our car and went out into Tavira's countrysides.
One village that we entered had no trace of human life. Not even a dog or domesticated cat came to greet us. It must have been the quietest town we ever saw. Modern houses mixed in with houses from a different era. Barns stood next to grocery shops. We could tell that there was life here but it was hiding from us.
One of the things that caught our eyes was a big, beautifully painted, sign with a picture resembling the Stonehenge monument. The sign pointed us onwards, down a one-laned, rocky, track. At first, we thought it too risky to drive our car on such a track which was clearly meant for tractors or other heavy duty vehicle. Then we thought “What the heck? This was exactly why we left the city. We were yearning for the unbeaten path, the rustic life, new inspiration.” The sign pointed to the adventure we longed for so we followed it.
For about a mile, we drove on the stoney path, downhill; ever deeper into the lowlands of Portugal. Occasionally, we passed relics hailing back to the medieval periods and we got excited about them, jumping out of the car to take a closer look and to snap some pictures. Mostly though, we were entertained by open lands and cattle. There were humans or major ruins in sight. It started to rain but we forged on undeterred. We had come to far to turn back now and without a doubt we would never be satisfied until we saw the ”StoneHenge” monument which was depicted on the signage.
Thank God, we made it through the first river without our car being washed away but the sight of the second, with its roaring, frothy waters, sent the fear of the undersea into us. Disappointed, hungry and exhausted, we attempted the arduous task of turning the vehicle around on a street so narrow that two people could barely walk shoulder to shoulder. It didn’t help that the tracks had become slippery too. It took at least 15 minutes to make the U-turn. We were frustrated but we were happy to back on our way.
Our happiness lasted about 5 minutes and then our car came to a screeching halt. With each rotation of the tires, soft, wet, stone grinded into marl and sputtered our faces. Placing car mats under the wheels didn't help. (Although we did end up with strainer mats. Just in case that becomes a thing. Remember, we started it first.) Every attempt to move forward ended with the car rolling backwards. At one point, the car titled at one of the tires was off the ground. We panicked and fussed. We tried all we knew how but it refused to drive up the hill. When we were certain that if we rolled back any further we would end up in the river, we shut the car off and began the uphill trek to the last village we had past.
I am a woman of faith and remembering that we had not seen one human face when we drove through the last village, I started to pray that God would put someone there to help us. We planned how we were going to go from door to door and knock until the roofs caved in, all the while fear was crawling up our calves as we neared the village. Even if we found someone, how would we tell them what had happened. Neither of us spoke a word of Portuguese.
Then, thank goodness! As we turned a corner, we saw a two men talking with each other. They were both senior citizens and looked over 70. Us we thought velvet if they can’t help us, they may know where to get us some help, provided we could communicate with them. After about 45 minutes of hand signing and displaying the finest of our artistic skills we managed to communicate our predicament to them. Once they understood, we needn't say more. One of them owned a tractor. Excited, he rushed back to his house to get it. Then he packed us in the back of his tractor and with his dog leading the way, he headed in the direction of our car.
I had my doubts several times during this rescue. At first I thought the tractor was too small. It could never pull our car up the hill. When I was in the back of the tractor, my head jerked around so much I thought it would roll off my neck before we made it back to the car. When the cord that we were using to hitch the tractor to the car broke, I thought we had to give up now. Finally, when the car started rolling back down the hill, pulling the tractor with it I saw the worst happening. The whole operation was a roller coaster of emotions; celebrating little triumphs only to feel our hearts sink in the next moment. The entire time, I kept thinking, its getting late and dark and this man is going to get frustrated with us, he is going to take his cord and his tractor and he is going to drive away leaving us in the middle of nowhere. But he stayed. He huffed and puffed. He laughed and pointed. He got frustrated at points but he never left us. Eventually, we made it over the hill and we could breathe again. Whew! At least, we weren't doomed to spend the might in some outback, valley in Portugal. When we got back to the village, we were wet and muddy and happy like piglets. We had sure gotten more of an adventure than we had bargained for.
But the story doesn't end there.
I am choosing to remember this evening by a bottle, not because I want to ignore the people but because I think the bottle sums up the character of these very kind souls that we met. We were served schnapps from an old, well-used, glass bottle. The glass was clouded and the label stained. There is no doubt. in my mind that this was one of their favorite bottles; the way they smiled and laughed as they passed it around. The bottle untied everyone in the room, young and old, foreigners and locals, blacks and whites. As we poured from the bottle and served each other were experienced a deeper level of humanity, a richer compassion.
We are thankful to the people of this village and are honored that they chose to share with us from their special bottle. The way they treated us, tells us that we are not the only ones who have stumbled upon their paradise and have been served from their bottle of compassion. From the looks of it, this bottle has made many trips to their backyard distilleries, has held thousands of liters of schnapps and has served countless guests and locals. It is not just a bottle. It is a storage of memories, a holder of comfort and joy, a fountain of friendships.
My prayer is that it and the people of this village will continue to pour comfort and love into each other and into lost wanderers such as we were. I pray that as the bottle is refilled so too their hearts will continue to bubble with joy and love.
That fated day, we went in search of adventure and inspiration away from the hustle and bustle, away from people. That day, we found inspiration in a bottle and in the hands that served from it. It is not the only bottle in that village but it is a unique bottle. There is no doubt in our minds that we were destined to meet these seniors and share from this exact bottle. In some way, our story was etched in the fibers of that glass bottle. As we poured from it, we drank what was always meant to be and the schnapps tasted better because we knew we were drinking from the cup of destiny and tasting a heavenly gulp of compassion.
So next time you feel like kicking back, lazing or settling with sweet treats, think again. Get up. Explore the unbeaten paths. Venture out and find that old schnapps bottle that has your name on it. Trust me, it is out there somewhere, waiting for you.
Until next time:
Venture Out. Keep exploring. Travel Smart and Stay safe.
Watch the video below to see how we were inspired by the people of Tavira.
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