Walking on the Camino is a deeply personal experience and it changes your outlook on life in many ways. Even if you walk many times, you always learn something.
On June 21, I will begin the completion of a long-held dream — to finish the last portion of the Camino de Santiago pilgrimage by walking from the city of Santiago de Compostela to Finisterre, the symbolic endpoint. The Romans called this spot on the rugged Atlantic coastline “finis terrae”, the end of the earth.
Eleven years ago, I set out on an adventure, to walk the Camino. This is an ancient pilgrimage that follows many routes, ending at Santiago de Compostela, in the Spanish province of Galicia. Tradition holds that the bones of the apostle James, are buried in the cathedral in Santiago. After all, San Tiago is a version of Saint James. Since the Middle Ages, people have made pilgrimages to the cathedral from points all over Europe.
In 2015, my partner and I walked the 800-kilometer Camino Frances route, from St. Jean Pied de Port in the Pyrenees, through northern Spain. We began May 22 and walked for 37 days, arriving on June 27.
Three years later, I walked part of the Portuguese camino, from the city of Porto to Santiago de Compostela.
Yearning to re-experience the challenge and the camaraderie, I returned to Spain in 2022, to walk for a week with some friends I met while walking in 2015.
Andrea, left, is a pilgrim I met in 2015 and I walked with her again from Pamplona to Logroño in September 2022.
Enduring Camino Friendship
Making new friends is an important part of the Camino experience. In 2015, I met Susanne Ydo, from Copenhagen. We walked together,along with other new friends, for about two weeks, from Leon to Santiago. Susanne and I have stayed in touch ever since. I visited her in Denmark in 2016, and she has come to visit me twice since I moved to Portugal in 2019.
For the last few years, we have talked about walking the last portion of the camino, out to Finisterre. Each time we thought we would do it, life got in the way. That happens, but oh well. The dream was still there.
A few months ago, we connected again. (Thank goodness for Internet communications.) We made a plan. Susanne would fly from Copenhagen to Porto and I will take a bus from Tomar to Porto. We will spend one night there, then take another bus to Santiago.
Then begins the adventure. The route is about 90 kilometers (56 miles). According to my research, it may take about four days. But we plan to take it easy and enjoy every minute of the experience. If it takes longer than that, so be it. Buen Camino.
The yellow arrow points the way on all the camino routes.
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Our four-day bike tour took us over more than 200 kilometers of gravel roads and paved roads from Badajoz to Montijo, and Alburquerque, in Spain, then to Portalegre and Vila Velha de Rodão in Portugal.
Ever since I heard that the city of Albuquerque, New Mexico was named after a duke in Spain I have wanted to visit the original town which is spelled Alburquerque. Somehow the R was dropped in the New World.
I got my wish last week when I made a four-day bike tour with my brother, Bob, and cycling friend, Graham, through the border region of Spain and Portugal.
The idea for the trip started after I did a wonderful bike adventure in northern Portugal in 2023. Graham, who organized that trip, had heard me talk about the years I lived in Albuquerque, NM. He suggested a route that would take in the Spanish town of Alburquerque in Estremadura, which became a sister city to its namesake in New Mexico in 2003.
Taking the train to Spain
My brother, an enthusiastic cyclist, was interested in the idea. He flew over from where he lives in Ireland to join us. We met just south of where I live in Tomar, and put our bikes on the one-car train that plies between Entroncamento, Portugal, and Badajoz, in Spain.
Unfortunately, our trip coincided with a heatwave. The temperature was around 35 degrees C. (95F) when we set off from Badajoz to pedal the roughly 40 kilometers to the town of Montijo. Fortunately, most of the route was close to an irrigation canal and therefore flat.
The next day we started off before 9 a.m. in cool temperatures for the 58 kilometer ride to Alburquerque. However, we quickly ran into a headwind which stayed with us the whole day. The road stretched out long and lonely. We passed huge fields of wheat, scattered orchards where caramel brown cattle sheltered from the sun under cork oaks. Houses were rare.
There was a lot of empty road between Montijo and Alburquerque on our second day of riding
Villages also are few and far between. We finally stopped in Villar del Rey, where we managed to get coffee and churros, the long slim pieces of fried dough that people often dunk in coffee. Continuing on, we had a long, steep climb up to our destination, the hilltop town of Alburquerque.
We stayed in a comfortable AirBnb and after a refreshing shower and a cold beer, we set off to explore the castle that dominates the town.
It´s not exactly Hollywood, but the sign made it clear that we had arrived!
The Castillo de Luna was built from the 11th to the 15h centuries and is named for Alvaro de Luna, Constable of Castile and Grand Master of the Order of Santiago. It was a short, though steep, walk up from the main plaza where we stayed. Entry is free and you can wander on your own. The views from the walls are magnificent.
From left: cats on the street up to the castle. Interior of the chapel in the castle, a small dining room with heraldic shields on the walls.
Where, oh, where is a restaurant that is open?
It is well known that Spain observes siesta in the afternoon from about 2:30 to 5 p.m. and people eat dinner late, sometimes very late.
When I have visited different parts of Spain in the past, it is usually possible to find a bar that serves tapas (light snacks) from about 7:30 pm. Not so in Alburquerque.
We were VERY hungry after our long cycling slog. So after visiting the castle, we had another beer and asked where we might get dinner. Answer: the restaurants don’t open until 9 p.m. Turned out that the town’s restaurants don’t open at all on a Tuesday night. Thank goodness we found a kebab place to stave off starvation.
From left: Bob and Graham, Graham and Rosalie riding on the road and walking on the deep gravel.
Heading back to Portugal
The third day saw us descend from Alburquerque heading toward the Portuguese border. We made a stop for coffee and churros in La Codosera. It was almost the last Spanish village we cruised through before the border. The town has become famous for a shrine to Nuestra Señora de Chandavila. In 1945, two young girls said they saw a vision of the Virgin Mary on a hillside outside the town. There is now a statue of Nuestra Señora de Chandavila above the town, and a pilgrimage route for the seven sorrows of the virgin.
A few kilometers later, we passed the border village of El Marco and walked across the roughly three-meter-long bridge that claims to be the shortest international bridge in the world.
Standing with one foot in Spain and one in Portugal on the El Marco bridge, near Arronches.
As soon as we crossed into Portugal we felt the difference. The first sizable village we came to, Mosteiros, had a restaurant where we eagerly consumed the well-known Portuguese dish, “carne de Porco Alentejano”, chunks of pork and clams in a mildly spicy sauce with cubed potatoes. Very tasty!
After another 20 kilometers and a big climb, we reached Portalegre. By that time, I was feeling pretty exhausted and dubious about whether I would make the fourth day. I knew I could catch the train back to Entroncamento from Portalegre. However, my riding companions, Bob and Graham, persuaded me that the final day would be mostly downhill —- except for the big climb at the end!
Sure enough, the final day started cool and fresh with long gentle descents. We stopped by a lake created by a dam and stopped for coffee in the charming town of Nisa.
Town square in Nisa, Portugal
A long climb, beautiful descent and a surprise
The last climb toward our final destination in Vila Velha de Rodão looked daunting. However, the temperature was cooler and the wind was not against us. We took it slow and steady, stopping for a breather every two or three kilometers. Our reward was a thrilling ride down a long curving road to the bridge over the river Tejo. This is the same river that flows to the sea in Lisbon.
View over the Tejo outside Vila Velha de Rodão. The curving road on the right side of the photo is where we descended from the pass.
We checked into the Vila Portuguesa hotel and walked over to the train station to make sure we could get the train back to Entroncamento the next morning. Then we had a celebratory meal.
Unfortunately, neither the station timetable nor the online Comboios de Portugal app, shared the information that buses had replaced train service through Vila Velha de Rodão in March this year, and the buses did not accept bicycles.
Graham scrambled and his wife Karen drove two hours to rescue Bob and I so that he could get to my home in time to catch his flight back to Ireland the next day.
All in all a great adventure, with a lot of surprises. But that´s travel for you!
This massive fortress once made Cacela Velha a key defense point to defend against pirates on the Algarve coast.
Tales of Romans and Moorish invaders, shellfish and sea views draw me to Caçela Velha, a tiny hamlet perched on a cliff above the eastern Algarve coast, 20 kilometers (12 miles) from Portugal’s border with Spain. I have always been a history buff.
Cacela Velha’s origins date back before the Romans, when Phoenician sailors ventured along the coast. After the Romans came the Moors, attracted by the rich soils of the area and plentiful fishing along the coast.
Because of this, the Algarve has a definitely different vibe from other parts of Portugal. I live in a town in central Portugal and I felt the difference as soon as I arrived in nearby Tavira.
A Poet of the Revolution
The maps app on my phone guides me down a road named after for Sophia de Mello Breyner Andresen, the poet who celebrated Portugal’s 1974 Carnation Revolution from the Salazar dictatorship with the lines that touched my heart, “Esta é a madrugada que eu esperava, o dia inicial inteiro e limpo, onde emergimos da noite e do silencio”, roughly translated it reads, “This is the dawn I longed for, the first day complete and clean, when we emerge from the night and silence”.
I park in the shade of a small olive tree. A bus stops in front of my car to disgorge a group of students of around 10 years old. On the way to the village, I pass a blackboard at the entrance to a restaurant. The message scrawled on it says, ‘W.C. 5 Euros’. Luckily, I don’t need feel the call of nature.
The village is a collection of houses, mostly white and a blue the same color as the Atlantic below. Curious about the name of the road, I stop to ask at the nameless cafe beside the square. The woman who serves me the large back coffee I have learned to call ‘abatinado’, doesn’t know. However, the cafe holds another reference to the dictatorship. On the wall beside the counter, is a yellowed newspaper article from 1988 that mentions a secret meeting in the village between Salazar and the contemporary Spanish dictator, Francisco Franco.
An old newspaper clipping tells of a secret meeting near Cacela Velha between the contemporary Portuguese and Spanish dictators, António de Oliveira Salazar and Francisco Franco.
Funeral Traditions in Portugal
As I walk around the church of Nossa Senhora da Conceição that dominates the praça, a large silver Citroen van pulls up. I recognize it as a hearse. Four black-suited men emerge bearing flowers. In the back I can see the brown gleam of a coffin. A notice at the church entrance shows the picture of a 91-year-old man who died in Tavira two days before. Funerals happen quickly in Portugal’s hot climate.
In the corner of the praça stands an old-style public phone box. It serves as a free library and lo and behold, I see a book about the prehistory of the area around the Nabão, the region in central Portugal where I live.
However, I don’t have time to linger. Low tide is the best time to see the famed shellfish that emerge from the sands along the Ria Formosa beneath the town. Low tide is in one hour, according to the tide tables I consulted.
A New Use for Salt
A flight of shallow steps descends to the sand flats. Tourists speaking Dutch and German wade across the shallow waters and sand flats toward the open sea. I spot a lone man bending over the water, remove my socks and shoes and approach him. He is pouring something into the water. When I reach him, I see it is a small container of salt. Tavira is known for its nearby salt pans.
Carlos, who is from nearby Altura, explains that the salt encourages the razor clams to emerge from their holes. He demonstrates, searching for a telltale dimple in the sand, pours the salt and waits. A second later, a ripple of movement, then a slim shape pops out, he snatches it and shows me the “Lingeirão”. “They serve them with rice here,” he says.
Carlos shows me how he uses salt to lure razor clams from the sand. Then he catches a tiny crab. The Ria Formosa sand flats are full of such shellfish.
Suddenly, a small crab, “caranguejo”, appears. He tries to snatch it while it fights him off with his claws. Finally, he grabs it and proudly shows it to me.
I continue further along the sand flat exposed at low tide, eager for a different view of the fortifications from below. The massive slope-sided walls remind me of fortifications I have seen elsewhere on the Portuguese coast, in Peniche and the Berlengas islands where a guide said they were built to repel pirates that roamed the Mediterranean and Altlantic coast.
Crabs leave golf-ball sized clumps of sand where they have dug holes in the sand flats of the Ria Formosa which are exposed a low tide.
Suddenly I spot a host of tiny sand balls scattered in front of me. Curious, I squat to peer more closely at them and see a palm-sized crab appear from a hole. All at once, the ground in front of me is moving with dozens of crabs. The balls are the detritus of sand formed by the crabs when they dug their holes.
I head back up a sandy path toward the village. A cat meets me on the way. There are always cats in Portugal.
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Riding in Portugal’s hilly countryside is a challenge.
Back in September 2023, I did a wonderful cycling trip in northern Portugal. My friend and cycling buddy, Graham, organized the trip to take in the towns of Viana do Castelo, Valença, Monção, Arcos de Valdevez, and Ponte de Lima. It was such a success that he proposed another tour, this time from Portugal to Spain. Having heard me talk about living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, he proposed visiting the city of Alburquerque, Spain. Great idea, I thought.
Sadly, life got in the way; 2024 and 2025 slipped by without the chance to make that trip. Now, however, the time is nigh! My brother, Bob, also a cycling enthusiast, is flying over from Ireland at the end of May to join us. We will meet Graham in the town of Entroncamento, south of Tomar, where I live. There, we will load our bikes on the train and travel to Badajoz. The train journey to the city just across the Portuguese/Spanish border takes just under three hours. From there, we will ride 65 kilometers (40 miles) to the city of Merida, famous for its extensive Roman ruins.
Merida is famous for its extensive Roman ruins.
After a night in Merida, Graham’s proposed route will take us about 80 kilometers (49 miles) to the city of Alburquerque. The distance does not seem too overwhelming, but unfortunately, the ride will involve about 900 meters (roughly 3,000 feet) of climbing. This is intimidating, and we hope we will have a friendly tailwind to help us along.
All the years I lived in Albuquerque, New Mexico, I frequently heard that the city was originally spelled with an “r”. The story goes that in 1706, the 10th Duke of Alburquerque, Don Francisco Fernandez de la Cueva Enrique, (they had long names in those days), was the viceroy of New Spain (Mexico). In April of that year, the colonial governor of New Mexico, Don Francisco Cuervo y Valdez, founded a farming settlement in New Mexico and named it in honor of the viceroy.
Some Albuquerque (NM) residents may remember the celebrations held in 2006 to mark the 300th anniversary of the city’s founding.
The original Spanish city is a hilltop town of about 5,000 inhabitants, about 15 miles from the border with Portugal. It is famous for its castle and its importance as a center for the cork industry.
From there, we will head back to Portugal and spend a night in the town of Portalegre.
The town of Portalegre played a key role in the defense of Portugal in the Middle Ages.
On our final day, we will travel 62 kilometers (38 miles) to Vila Velha de Rodão, where we will catch a train back to Entroncamento. Each day will involve a lot of climbing, but I am getting fit and hope that frequent coffee stops will make it all go smoothly. After all, any day on a bicycle beats a day in the office.
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Singers leap in the air as the Tuna group sings a song called “Rapariga”, which means teenage girl, in Portuguese
May arrived with a festive spirit here in my corner of central Portugal. Skies were clear, the temperature was balmy and the streets and cafes were full of people enjoying a public holiday. In Portugal, the day is called “Dia do Trabalhador”, or labor day. It was created as a public holiday after the 1974 Carnation Revolution, to celebrate the achievements of workers and the return of freedom and democracy after more than forty years of dictatorship.
Among the celebrations in my town of Tomar, is the annual gathering of student musical ensembles known as “Tunas”. Dressed in black robes (traje), adorned with colorful ribbons or patches, they sing, accompanied by guitars, mandolines, drums and tambourines. The songs can be satirical or romantic.
On Friday, May 1, the main square, Praça da Republica, in Tomar, was transformed into an open air concert venue for the Tunas. Groups of students clustered around the square, performing their repertoire to a cheering audience. A friend of mine told me that in previous years, male students would sing a serenade to female students lingering on the balconies above them.
Statue of Gualdim Pais, founder of the city of Tomar, dominates the Praca da Republica.
The Tuna singing groups date back to a thirteenth century Iberian tradition. The groups can also be found in Spain. They travel to competitions for the title of “Melhor Tuna” at festivals called “certames”. Or, they can compete in national and international competitions such as the Festival Internacional de Tunas Universitarias.
Church of Sao João Batista in the Praça da Republica, Tomar.
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A landslide caused by storm flooding still blocks a critical road near Coimbra.
It has been more than two months since Storm Kristin tore across central Portugal uprooting millions of trees, downing power lines and ripping off roofs. Right behind that devastating storm, which packed winds up to 240 kilometers per hour (124 mph), came the drenching rains of Storm Leonardo causing widespread flooding throughout the hard-hit region.
Storm Kirstin affected the areas of Leiria, Coimbra and Santarem on the night of January 27. It cut off power to around one million people. The economic impact of the storm has been estimated at six billion euros, or about $7 billion. Considering damage to property, vehicles, roads, crops, fruit trees, olive trees, eucalyptus plantations and various crops, that amount seems conservative.
Many still waiting for help
I attended an event this weekend where I had a chance to listen to several people living in a rural area near Tomar who are still suffering consequences of the storm. One woman said the storm left them without electricity for three weeks. It also knocked out their internet service. She said they have been told that it could be months before they would have service restored because the internet infrastructure throughout the area had been severely damaged.
“They told me it could be up to nine months,” she said. I heard the same from the man who runs the kennels where my dog stayed over the weekend.
Several people complained that they were waiting for insurance reimbursement despite repeatedly submitting quotes for repair work.
Although repair crews have been busy, I still see downed trees, sagging power lines and damaged roofs everywhere.
Rainstorms damage roads linking rural towns
Heavy rains caused this landslide which still blocks a road linking Coimbra to the town of Penacova on the Mondego river.
As if the wind didn’t do enough damage. Rainstorms that followed in Kristin’s wake, caused widespread flooding. Landslides and subsidence damaged roads, cutting off lifelines to towns in rural areas. The Mondego River also flooded a vast area west of the city of Coimbra.
Left: the town of Montemor-o-Velho cut off by flood waters. Right: first responders place sandbags alongside the Rio Nabão in Tomar.
And in other news:
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My table at the Tucson Festival of Books, March 15
I am finally back in Portugal after a five-week trip to the US which took me from the snowy hinterlands of far upstate New York, to the sizzling deserts of Arizona, the awesome vistas of the Grand Canyon and the familiar streets of Albuquerque, New Mexico, my old home.
I timed the trip so that I could visit the Tucson Festival of Books in mid-March, where I was scheduled to showcase my “Digger Doyle Mystery Series.”
But my first priority was to spend time with my son, Patrick, and granddaughters, Annika (6) and MJ (4 1/2). Patrick is in the army and they live at Fort Drum, about ninety minutes drive north of Syracuse, New York.
Since I live several thousand miles away, I only get to see the grandchildren once a year. Each time, I notice how much they have grown and matured. As they become older, my relationship with the two girls has deepened, and I treasure these moments.
A hug on the couch with MJ, left, and Annika, right.
Highlights of my visit with Patrick´s family, included a trip to Dry Hill Ski center where the girls and my daughter-in-law, Laci, had a lesson while I tested my skiing muscle memory on the bunny hill. Meanwhile, Patrick was fearlessly whizzing down the slopes like he and I used to when he was growing up in New Mexico.
Although I used to love skiing, I hadn’t tried it since early 2019.
Heading west
After 18 wonderful days with the family, I flew from Syracuse to Albuquerque. During the couple of days I spent there, I was able to go dance swing and two-step at a pub where they had live music. Dancing is something I really miss in Portugal.
My friend Louise, who lives in Santa Fe, then picked me up in Albuquerque and drove us to Tucson. It was thrilling to see the vast high desert scenery as we headed south, then west toward Arizona. We made a lunch stop in Hatch, NM, home of the famous (and incomparable) chile that bears its name.
Squinting into the sun in front of a sign in Hatch. By the way, the spicy vegetable is always spelled “chile” in New Mexico.
Book fest in Tucson
The Tucson Festival of Books is one of the biggest events of its kind in the US. Held since 2009, it draws hundreds of authors and an estimated 100,000 attendees to the University of Arizona Mall each March.
It is an overwhelming affair. Hundreds of tents line the mall and I was glad to have a day to scope it out and talk to other authors. My slot was on the morning of the second day. I was in the “Indie Author” tent, along with about 18 other self-published authors of books in all genres. Since we were all vying for attention from the passing crowds, I was happy to sell eight books. My neighbor at the next table sold two.
Louise and I also discovered that Tucson has a lively and diverse selection of restaurants and brew pubs!
Onward to experience the Grand Canyon
During my more than 22 years living in Albuquerque, New Mexico, I visited many wonders of the Southwest, including Monument Valley, Mesa Verde, Arches National Park, Chaco Canyon and Canyon de Chelly. But I never made it to the big one …..the Grand Canyon.
On my visit to NM last year, I mentioned this to my friend Louise and she vowed that we would go there together if I made it to the Southwest in 2026. Hence, the trip. Suffice to say, it was every bit as impressive as I had heard, a deeply spiritual experience to be there. I will let the pictures speak for themselves.
Views of the Grand Canyon from the south rim. From left: Elk wander around fearlessly. Mules carry visitors, a river is visible at the bottom of the canyon roughly a mile below the lookout point.
Back to New Mexico, the Land of Enchantment
The Land of Enchantment is the slogan the New Mexico Tourism department has used for decades to market the state. Although it sounds corny, I have to agree that New Mexico holds a special place in my heart. I was lucky enough to spend a few days in Albuquerque visiting many old friends, indulging my love of New Mexico dishes like green chile stew and breakfast burritos, something I cannot find in Portugal. But of course, those things are unique to NM.
I met up for a Sunday morning walk with four former colleagues from the Albuquerque Journal. From left: Ellen Marks, Rosalie Rayburn, Cathryn Cunningham, Helen Taylor and Jennifer Swanson. I held a book signing event at Books on the Bosque book store in Albuquerque.I celebrated my birthday going horseback riding with my friend Mary Ann Ende outside of Albuquerque.
All in all, it was a holiday to remember. Thank you to my family and friends who made it such a special experience.
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Valentine’s Day brought a rare sight. The return of the sun in Portugal which has endured weeks of relentless downpours. The storms have brought an estimated 10 inches to 15 inches of rain since January 1, nearly twice the normal amount.
The rains came at the worst possible time. The country was already reeling from the effects storm, Kristin, which ripped across a wide swath of central Portugal on January 28. The storm´s hurricane-force winds uprooted thousands of trees, blew off roofs and cut off electricity, internet communications and water to hundreds of thousands of residents.
The next storms, Leonardo and Marta, added insult to injury. Rivers burst their banks, flooding towns and cities, swamping roads and causing landslides. On Feb. 11, a major road artery near Coimbra, Portugal´s third largest city, collapsed. To date, there have been 16 storm-related deaths and more than 3,000 people have been evacuated from their homes.
Cleanup efforts underway
Crews have been out in force repairing storm damage but the work is far from over. Many rural areas remained without electricity and internet communications for more than two weeks after Kristin hit. A friend of mine who lives alone in a small village, was without power for more than 17 days. Fortunately, she had a wood-burning stove for heat and bottled gas for cooking. Friends whose power was restored more quickly, let her shower and charge her phone at their place.
Parks in the town of Tomar, central Portugal, where I live, were full of uprooted trees. City workers have been busy with chainsaws, and heavy equipment to remove them.
Police tape keeps onlookers away from where crews are cutting up the trunk of an uprooted tree in a park in Tomar, central Portugal.
Although the weather forecast for the next few days looks rain-free, the rivers remain dangerously high. The normally placid Rio Nabão in Tomar, is a rushing torrent. Sandbags remain wedged against doorways along a canal that flanks the river. Elsewhere, the situation remains dire. Vast areas around Coimbra and further south, near the city of Santarem, are under water. There have been calls for Portugal to reevaluate its responses to climate change.
The Rio Nabão is flowing several feet above its normal level. Sandbags wedged against the entrance to a walkway over a canal in Tomar.
My car miraculously escaped being crushed by two trees uprooted by the near hurricane-force winds of storm Kristin which hit Portugal January 27.
A massive storm ripped across Portugal and Spain on the night of January 27. Near hurricane-force winds uprooted tens of thousands of trees, snapped concrete power poles like matchsticks and blew off roofs. The storm’s path covered a wide swath of central Portugal, leaving up to a million people without electricity, and internet communications. Many in rural areas were also without water. At least six people died in storm-related incidents. Official sources quoted by Reuters estimated the cost of the damage at four billion euros or $4.7 billion.
That was ten days ago, and many in rural areas still have no power, or water. My village was without electricity for six days. Luckily, a friend in the nearby town of Tomar, where power was quickly restored, offered her apartment as a “refugee center” where friends could charge their phones and contact relatives.
Storm Kristin, packing winds of up to 140 kph (90 mph) was the latest, and worst, in a string of heavy rain and wind events to hit the Iberian Peninsula since the beginning of December. Everywhere, the ground was already sodden. As more heavy rain struck, rivers burst their banks and flooded towns like Alcaçer do Sal, south of Lisbon. Further north, flooding cut off road access to towns like Montemor-O-Velho, west of Coimbra.
Access to the small historic town of Montemor-O-Velho has nearly been cut off by flood waters.
Crisis brings neighbors together
The severity of the storm, and the extent of the damage, brought out the best of the Portuguese spirit. In the village where I was staying, many people who work remotely, had no internet. By late morning, men from my street were out with chainsaws, cutting the trees that blocked the road. Women and children were gathering the cut branches and loading them into another neighbor’s pickup truck. One woman laughingly commented, “We have plenty of wood for our barbecues!”
Neighbors quickly came together to cut up the fallen trees to clear the street.
Uprooted trees lay along several main streets in the historic town of Tomar. The town’s picturesque parks by the Rio Nabão were transformed into a landscape of jagged roots and downed tree trunks.
Fortunately, these hugh uprooted trees fell alongside the main street instead of across it or into the apartment building.Massive damage in Leiria.Officials estimate damage costs at four billion Euros. ($4.7.)
Another storm may postpone elections
As though the storms of January and the devastation of Kristin weren’t enough, another tempest, Leonardo, is already striking the country, bringing more heavy rainand causing more damage. To complicate matters, the second round of the Portuguese presidential election is scheduled Sunday, Feb. 8. The first round, on Jan. 18 failed to yield an outright winner, so the top two vote-getters, António José Seguro and Andre Ventura, are vying for the largely ceremonial job. Ventura has called for the election to be postponed because of the storms.
Closer to home, residents of Tomar are anxiously monitoring the river level. It is higher than I have ever seen it. The usually gently flowing waters are now a raging torrent. A park beside the river where I used to walk my dog, is now 80 percent under water.
Yesterday, police and army units were distributing sandbags to businesses, stores and residents along the canal that carries river overflow. The water level in the canal is less than a foot (30 cm) from the edge.
Water level in the canal is dangerous.Police setting up sandbags by the canalThe army assists with sandbag distribution.
My own home in the historic district is about 200 meters from the canal. Although the police officer directing the crew told me he didn’t think a flood could reach my door, I’m not taking any chances. I went out and bought five 5 kg bags of cat sand and have wedged them against my front door. Sometimes you have to get creative!
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