A Time for Everything - Ecclesiates 3:1-8

Michelle Morgenstein

We had been in Lisbon for several days when I got the call. My sister, Michelle, had died following a brief illness which started as pneumonia and then quickly progressed to sepsis. She was only 52 years old. 

My brain wasn't up to it so Dermot found the flights to Cleveland and took me to the airport the next day while he stayed with the camper. Michelle's three daughters (all in their 20's) and partner were in shock and grieving. For one week we talked, cried, reminisced, consoled and made the necessary arrangements. The date for the memorial service had been set for the Sunday after my flight back. Though I was sorry to miss it, there were other family members arriving to support the family. Thoughts and prayers are very much appreciated. 

Michelle Morgenstein Obituary

I struggled with the decision of whether or not to share this on our blog. When people experience a loss, many ask if there is anything they can do to help. Often there's nothing to be done but I'd like to ask a special favor. Please consider being vaccinated against pneumonia. Both my father and sister died of health problems that started as pneumonia. Maybe you think that only older people should get that vaccination. They should, but if you're over 19 and have a condition that weakens your immune system, please discuss it with your doctor. I enjoy good health but got the vaccination when my doctor recommended it. Insurance paid for it, but even if your insurance doesn't pay for it, this vaccination could save your life. I want you to have long, healthy and happy lives. 

Here's a memory I'd like to share with you of growing up with my sweet, charming sister:

Michelle loved to make people laugh. One day when she was about 10 and I was 14, some of my friends and I started down the hallway towards my room. I looked up and gasped. There were several pairs of my underwear hanging from the light fixture on the ceiling. I was mortified in the way that only a teenager can be, but everyone else was in stitches. They were so high up I couldn't have retrieved them even if I had tried jumping - which made my predicament even funnier.

Michelle explained through fits of laughter that she had braced her hands and feet against opposite sides of the hall to climb up with my underwear clenched between her teeth to hang them there.

Throughout our lives we've confided in each other, argued, laughed and cried together. She rocked my babies in her arms and I rocked hers'. We had a bond that can't be broken. I loved her very much and still can't quite bring myself to believe she's gone. Rest in peace sweet sister.

Evora Portugal

Ever heard of Evora, Portugal?  Me neither, but it’s a medium-sized city with an outsized history. I’ll let the captions on the photos do most of the talking on this post.

Here are our photos.

But if you’d like more information on these places it's here:

Wiki info on the city.

Wiki info on Almendres Cromlech

Next stop: Lisbon

Southern Portugal

Ponte do Piedade

We sought out the cooler temperatures of the southern coast of Portugal and were rewarded with gorgeous, rocky coastlines as well.  The winds and waves of the Atlantic have carved the rock into dramatic cliffs and grottos.  

Here are our photos.

We camped in the Turiscampo Yelloh Village outside of Lagos. The campsite was packed full of amenities such as multiple pool areas, a spa, and even scheduled yoga classes. 

Square in Lagos

The afternoon we arrived we rode the bus into the city of Lagos and followed the self-guided walking tour.  Later we had a nice dinner of two kinds of fish in a very large restaurant designed to accommodate tourists.

The following day we drove to the Ponte do Piedade. Here we walked on the cliffs and explored the most dramatic scenery in the region. Dermot, always the more sensible one of us when it comes to heights, climbed down the stairs to see the grottos while I climbed up to see the views from the high points. We then visited the beach at Praia Dona Ana which was lovely but not as impressive.

We then relaxed by and in the camprground pools enjoying the water and reading. Later we drove to the small beach/fishing town of Salema for a look around and a dinner of seafood at a restaurant overlooking the beach. 

The following day we attended our first Tai-yoga class which we guessed meant slow, but we were actually taught how to stretch and massage each other.  Dermot reported that he enjoyed the (female) instructor's stronger methods than my tenuous/weaker ones. Hmpf. 

Dermot was nearly blown away!

Afterwards we used a grassy area to do or own yoga for a bit before heading out for some more sightseeing.  The weather had predicted a windy day and they weren't joking!  We went to Cape Sagras which was known as the "end of the world" for eons.  Here we toured Cape Sagras Fort and Navigators School.  Excerpt from Rick Steves' Portugal guide "In 1476, the young Italian Christopher Columbus washed ashore here after being shipwrecked by pirates. He went on to study and sail with the Portuguese (and marry a Portuguese woman) before beginning his American voyage."

Then we visited Cape St. Vincent and took more pictures of the cliffs and lighthouse but the winds were so strong we decided to forego a planned stop at a nearby picturesque beach. We were beat! That night we sampled many dishes at the campground's restaurant buffet. 

Seville!

Feria de Abril in Seville

The weather in Seville predicted highs in the 90's for a solid week and not seeing a convenient work around, we decided to brave it. Unfortunately, our usually trusty Garmin stopped working and the remedy required the specific charger that we had left in Orlando.  Sigh. So Google maps it is until we can find a new one.

The upside was we arrived at Villsom Camping in Seville during the last few days of "Feria de Abril." It's a week long party each night for which locals dress up in costumes and have mini-parades, often on horseback or in a horse-drawn carriage, to the fairgrounds. There, they join a private party in a tent. We saw many such small groups heading there and if they minded that we took their picture, they didn't show it. Not having an invitation, flamenco outfit, or horse; we decided not to attempt crashing the party.

Our photos are here.

Alcazar

On our first day in, we toured the incredible Alcazar which is very large and ornate. The audioguide explained the history and pointed out blending various styles in the carved ceilings and many other decorations.  We had a pretty terrible lunch at the cafeteria but at least the patio where we ate was lovely and shady in the alcazar gardens. 

The temperature was soaring but we decided it would be relatively cool in the Seville Catedral. Fun facts: en.wikipedia.org

Seville Cathedral is the third-largest church in the world as well as the largest Gothic church. It is also the largest cathedral in the world because two largest churches, the Basilica of the National Shrine of Our Lady of Aparecida and St. Peter's Basilica, are not the seats of bishops.

Maybe it was the heat, or trying to fit in two major sights back-to-back, but as big and impressive as it was, I found it less inspiring than the Toledo Catedral. We did take the time to walk up the Giralda Tower (check out those bells) and the views were lovely.

Giralda Tower

I found the history very interesting - the present day garden was once the site where Muslims would wash before entering the mosque (upon which the cathedral was built) to pray.  You can find much more, and better information here:

Wikipedia on Seville_Cathedral

After soaking in all that history, Dermot wanted to catch a very important rugby game (Leinster v Saracens) so he found an Irish pub and we settled in to watch. It turned out there were two young women from Ireland at the table next to us.  We chatted with them and, when five young local men moved in on them we watched the marking game - Spanish edition. Dermot gallantly offered that they could tell the men he was their dad if they needed an out.   

We got back to the campsite by bus and we were amazed at how little the temperature dropped - it was in the 80’s well after sunset. It was very poor weather for sleeping in a camper.

Of course, Seville is known as the birthplace of flamenco dancing so we booked an early afternoon flamingo concert and tickets to the flamenco museum for the following morning and set out for another day of sightseeing.  

Plaza de Santa Cruz-pretty place with an ugly history

On Sunday we went into town and did a self-guided walk of the Barrio Santa Cruz - what was the Jewish quarter before Jews and Muslims were required to either convert or leave. Many who converted and stayed were still persecuted or killed. Such layers of history and so often tragic.

It was another scorcher of a day and we found a shady park where we joined a lot of other wilted tourists for a rest. Then we headed for the flamenco museum which proved to be too hot for comfort as well. 

One of the downsides of spending months traveling is that you sometimes aren’t present for special days with loved ones such as birthdays or, in this case, Mother’s Day. Both Julianna and Tyler called me and wished me a happy mother’s day and I apologized for abandoning them on a day we’d normally share. 

I have to say that being able to see authentic flamenco was an appropriate way to spend mother’s day. There was wonderful singing, guitar playing and very passionate dancing. Dermot got video which he's going to put on Facebook. We really enjoyed it!!

There was so much more to see but we just couldn't face another day and night of excessive sweating.

Next stop: The Algarve, Portugal 

Gibraltar and Tangier - so close, but worlds apart.

In the beautiful Kasbah Museum

Gibraltar

Camping SurEuropa was our base for a trip to Gibraltar but cloudy weather would have spoiled the views. Strong, gusty winds the next morning had us worried they might cancel the cable car to the top, but up we went and enjoyed a nice lunch overlooking the top of “the rock.”  We snapped lots of photos of various viewpoints including the African coastline in the distance. The other top attraction of Gibraltar is the "apes" as they call them - that aren't apes but Barbary monkeys. They're very habituated to people and demonstrated their kleptomaniac tendencies as soon as we arrived by grabbing a bag full of snacks from a  woman's purse and ripping into it with fangs and nails. We enjoyed following the trails as we walked from the top back into town just catching the last bus back to the border.

Next we drove to Tarifa and settled into a campsite right on the beach at a top spot for kite surfing, but we mostly read up on Tangier and planned our trip there. Our guidebook had many cautions about going into Tangier but also recommended it highly.  We booked two nights at La Tangerina - a riad (“guesthouse” in Arabic) in the upper Kasbah which is a tranquil residential area in the old town right along the old walls of the city.

Tangier 

We boarded a ferry for the short crossing into Africa.  The most notable cultural difference on disembarking was how the people dressed. Many or even most people wore a long, loose-fitting outfit and most women covered their hair. The next difference was the call to prayer that sounded throughout the city from the mosques. 

Because we had researched the city in our guide book, we thought we were prepared with a strategy to avoid being harassed into tours and by vendors. But our meager defenses were nothing compared to the efficiency of the Tangier tourist mill and we were virtually assigned a tour guide - he worked with our riad it was explained.  Before we knew it we were escorted to La Tangerina in a big black taxi the guidebook had warned was too expensive and we had forgotten to procure local currency at the port. 

On the roof of the riad at sunset.

However, everything slowed down thereafter. We were warmly greeted in La Tangerina and as we were checking in, our potential guide asked where Dermot was from.  When he replied Ireland, Sharif greeted him in perfectly pronounced Irish!  Dermot was shocked! Sharif knew Arabic, French, Spanish, English and who knows how many others. We were served hot Moroccan tea and small cakes on the charming rooftop veranda as a welcome to the equally charming four-story riad. Ahhhhh. 

After that we decided to just go with the flow and hire our assigned guide for a walking tour of the old city.  Sharif explained many things about the buildings and culture. For example, most doors to homes were actually a spot within a larger door. The smaller one was for everyday use and the larger only open on special occasions like a wedding or large gathering. Also, a woman is not allowed to open the door to any man who is not a blood relative. 

Add caption

We noticed or guide walked very slowly and later realized that he had cut a few corners from the promised tour but we really couldn't blame him. The day we arrived was the first day of Ramadan which requires fasting (no food or water) from sunup to sundown.

At the beginning of our tour he warned me not to keep my phone in my pocket. Later on he started looking around, then he asked Dermot to hold onto his phone while he turned to confront a person he later explained had been following us. He said he was doing his job to keep us safe.

There were unexpected sights around every corner. The Kasbah where we started seemed to have sprouted organically as families grew and built either upward or new houses attached to the original. We followed the “Matisse Route” but there seemed no plan or reason to the alleys as we weaved here and there and many were only wide enough for pedestrians. 

Our guide explained that the smells wafting into the alleys was the food being prepared for the meal to break the fast after sunset. I  could pick out cumin but have no idea what other spices were being used to create the rich aromas.  

It's an impossible task to convey a sense of the place. The pictures will give you some sense of the colors and textures that famously inspired Henri Matisse, but the atmosphere is unique.  

Click for our photo album - open the first picture and click on the "i" in a circle for info.

The market (Souk) had stalls with bags of spices, large containers of olives in fresh herbs, teas and pastries that smelled heavenly. Many people cannot afford ovens so there are community ovens from which wafted the smell of freshly baked yeast bread). Some also do not have indoor plumbing so water spigots dot the lanes and many are beautifully tiled. Many of the alleys were clean but some were much less so and there are also places where the aromas and sights were not pleasant at all.

Market/Souk

Many of the stalls were tiny, with barely enough room for two people sewing embellishments onto clothing.  The storefront spaces seemed very old but some proprietors sat in the doorway using a laptop. I felt uncomfortable pointing my camera into these shops so take a look at Dermot's pictures on Facebook.

One surreal sight stands out - a man was carrying two live chickens by their feet. The chickens’ necks made a u shape so their heads were upright and were they were looking around but otherwise didn't seem very concerned. Sharif guided us through the Lower Medina, the petit Socco, Grand Socco, Mendoubia Gardens, Moshe Nahon Synagogue, and he pointed out the Kasbah Museum which was closed.

At the end of the tour we thanked Sharif and asked how safe it was to walk in the city at night and he told us there was little violent crime but lots of pickpockets.  He said he should stick to streets where there are other people around that could help us.  That wasn't all that reassuring as we needed to go find some dinner and then return after dark and had no knowledge of which streets would have people. 

On our own for the next few days we later enjoyed seeing the Kasbah Museum, Tangier American Legation Museum (lovely and interesting history, St. Andrew’s Church, and actually began to know our way around. Though we were careful and were frequently (and persistently) offered services and goods, we didn’t feel as threatened on the streets.

Being in Tangier during Ramadan also meant that most restaurants and cafes were closed all day and many sites had reduced open hours. We stopped at our first choice of recommended restaurants that night but, seeing no signs they'd be open, we went to another further in town. The food was okay and they had a very touristy band that played only occasionally but were positively thrilled if you paid them any attention whatsoever. 

As we ate, Dermot had heard the sounds of shouts and found a soccer game on near the restaurant and he slid in to watch. Not finding a place to stand where I could see, I waited outside trying to stay out of the way. There were zero women around and the men acted like I wasn't there - a feeling that only intensified when they bumped into me as they left after the game.

Even ones we thought would stay open like "London Pub" in the new part of town were closed during their listed open hours. This meant we missed seeing several famous cafés and restaurants and had to make do with whatever (generally more touristy) place was serving food and drinks. However, the market stalls were overflowing with products and had many customers. Ramadan also meant we had to set or clocks back two hours so we were hungry long before everyone else is ready to break their fasts. 

Though we knew we were supposed to haggle as they jack up prices for tourists, we didn’t have the heart for it. I bought ridiculously overpriced tea. I actually wanted an embroidered shirt but I don’t normally like shopping anyway and this was intense shopping. Dermot wanted to poke around the antique stores and I followed but there were things stacked precariously everywhere and you couldn’t move without fear of an avalanche happening in your wake.  When new customers arrived, I slithered out and left Dermot to his shopping. He emerged with a small box made of camel bone (also without haggling). 

We packed to leave and headed to the ferry port looking for the exchange bureau at the port as the last available place but we never found it. So I asked the ferry employee and he escorted me past the passport check points to two vans parked outside with exchange rates posted on them! Yup, this is where you exchange money at the port - in a van. 

Ronda - an Andalusian Hill Town

Dermot can't hold a smile long this high up.

Ronda is one of the largest of the white hill towns in Andalusia. There is an old town that spans a deep gorge with beautiful (or gut-churning) views from the bridge. 

Our photos here.

This one didn't take as long.

We walked from the campsite into town using google maps because the normal tourist route was being demolished. We took some pictures and ate a forgettable meal in one of the eateries in town. We were going to walk down the very steep route to see the bridge from a great viewpoint outside the walls at sunset but Dermot astutely pointed out that the sun wouldn’t be reaching the bridge at this time of year. I congratulated him on saving us at least an hour walk down then back up again. It also meant we had plenty of time to catch the Barcelona v. Liverpool soccer game at the Irish pub - what a happy coincidence!

Wiki's article has info and a stunning view from outside/below.

The next day we visited the “Real Maestranza de Caballeria de Ronda” - the bullfighting ring/exhibit/museum. They rarely use the ring for actual bullfights but it was much more interesting to me than an actual bullfight would have been. 

That night we ate another forgettable meal in the camp restaurant - I got the meal I had repeatedly seen on menus described as “Pork cheeks with wild mushrooms.” Won’t do that again. Though the area was interesting enough to warrant another day roaming, I was tired of the terrible showers at Camping El Sur and we decided to move on.

Next stop: Gibraltar

Nerja - One of Spain's Beach Resort Towns

Check out the dramatic crashing wave on those rocks.

We breathed sighs of relief as we arrived in our campsite outside of Nerja on a Sunday afternoon.  Many of the campers at Aula de Naturaleza were contentedly sitting in the sun reading surrounded by avocado trees and flowers more like a botanical garden than your typical campsite. We were told it was a ten minute walk into town and it felt like the perfect place to slow down and take a vacation from our vacation. Tough life, right? 

Menu del dia: soups, mains, dessert, and wine for 10 euros.

The walk in was more like 25 minutes but we found a beachside restaurant and sipped sangria while listening to the waves crash against the shore. Ahhhhh. 

Later we found a small open store. It was half groceries (many British foods) and the other half booze - which later proved to be true of many stores. We strolled the town then headed back to camp. That night we unfolded our folding bikes for the first time on this trip and rode into town (uphill and on seriously under-inflated tires) for a very nice meal. The ride back was downhill and in the dark but there was a bike lane on this side of the road (as opposed to none of the other side??) so it felt relatively safe.

Here are our photos

The next day we visited the Nerja cave and the museum which was very well explained in English and described the history of the area and cave habitation/art/burials.

Wiki's Caves_of_Nerja link

While here, we heard many people from the British isles as well as some from Ireland.

We ate a seafood dinner in town that night and visited the Irish Harp where Dermot had a pint and listened to the musicians (who were good) and the loudly singing patrons (who were not) as I nipped out for a delicious gelato. 

The next day we did laundry, had late lunch of paella and sangria in a beachside restaurant, walked on the beach and relaxed a bit. I could really see the draw for people to buy a condo and return every year!

Next stop: Ronda.