Why I love Lisbon, Portugal’s gem

A scene in Lisbon’s Bairro Alto where street decorations are a string of colorful bras!

I first fell in love with the city of Lisbon when I came on vacation in 2011. I am convinced the city enchants everyone who visits because of it’s easy charm, its mix of grand plazas and rabbit-warren streets and, above all, the welcoming attitude of the Portuguese people.

That wonderful first experience planted the seed that would eventually motivate me to move to Portugal full time. I cherished a fantasy of living in a quaint little apartment in the Alfama district with a view of the Tejo river. Alas, the reality is that prices in Lisbon were out of range of my meager budget. On top of that, a Lisbon native warned me that those old buildings in the Alfama usually needed extensive and expensive repairs. So, I settled in the country.

But a trip to Lisbon is still a source of great pleasure. I had the opportunity to visit over the Valentine’s weekend and fell in love with the city all over again. What’s not to like when you can stroll through the geometrically laid out streets of the Baixa area and browse the fancy shops or be amused by street performers in the pedestrian Rua Augusta. The grid pattern is thanks to the Marquis de Pombal who oversaw reparations after a devastating earthquake in 1755 destroyed much of the city.

From left: the Ascensor da Gloria and the Elevator de Santa Justa. Lisbon, like Rome, is a city of many hills.

A visit to Lisbon always means climbing. From the sea-level Baixa neighborhood you wind your way up through steep and narrow alleyways towards the Castelo de São Jorge and into the Alfama. This is the oldest area of the city, inhabited by the Romans and Visigoths, then developed by the Moors in the early Middle Ages. The name derives from Arabic meaning “hot fountains”. Wandering the Alfama you can enjoy peeking into the myriad tiny restaurants and shops. Many of them sell tourist souvenirs, but you will also find the hole-in-the-wall stores that sell basic groceries to the locals.

I’m not a big fan of Fado music, but it is an integral part of the Portugues culture. The Museum of Fado in the Alfama district is definitely worth a visit. You might even find out what the essentially Portuguese term “Saudade” means!

A crown for each! Statues adorn the top of the Arco da Rua Augusta on the Praça do Comercio.

After a trip to the Alfama, you can descend and take a stroll through the Praça do Comercio, one of the grandest city squares in Europe. It faces the river Tejo (Tagus) and a series of steps leading down to the water forms the perfect hangout spot on a sunny day.

From left: Hanging out by the river Tejo, and boys blowing giant bubbles in the middle of the Praça do Comercio.

One of the things I noticed about Portugal when I arrived here, was the number of independent book stores. For anyone who loves books, like me, the sight of so many book stores was a joy to behold. I’ve even seen one on a beach in the Alentejo and at Lisbon’s Oriente train station. In Lisbon, the Chiado district has so many little bookshops you could spend almost a whole day browsing from one to the other.

My favorite Chiado bookstore is the historic Bertrand Livraria. Founded in 1732 by two French brothers, it claims to be the oldest continuously operating bookstore in the world. Drifting slowly through the seven consecutive rooms of the bookstore, you can feast your eyes on a huge array of titles, authors and subjects. Most are in Portuguese, but there is also a wide selection of books in English, including many translations of works by prominent Portuguese writers like Fernando Pessoa and Jose Saramago, who won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1998.

The Bertrand bookstore in the Chiado district of Lisbon was founded in 1732.

And of course, if you have the time, climb to the Bairro Alto where the densely packed streets are full of restaurants, bars, night spots and a lively fun atmosphere!

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Why Americans are moving to Portugal

Porto waterfront along the Douro river. — The river Douro flows through Porto, Portugal’s second largest city. Wooden boats called “rabelo” ply the waters giving tourists a great experience of the city. Historically the boats were used to ferry crates of wine from the Douro Valley to Porto.

everywhere I look I see articles about how many Americans are moving to Portugal or considering retirement in this country. I made the move myself in 2019 for a number of reasons which I will explain below. Curious to find out why all these other US residents want to relocate to Portugal I posted the question on a couple of the Facebook groups aimed at that target audience.

There was an interesting similarity to the answers I received. Two reasons came top of the list for most of those who commented. Guess what? Political climate and healthcare costs were the most frequently mentioned reasons people said they decided to make the move.

It’s not hard to understand why Americans might feel disturbed about the political climate in the US. The last few years have seen a new level of turmoil. It’s become a cliché to say the country is deeply divided. But the animosity seems to have reached new heights, with the two major political parties behaving like football teams repeatedly clashing to gain ground while they lose sight of the goals.

Healthcare in the US has long been an industry aimed at maximizing profits rather than actually delivering an improved quality of overall health. Studies have shown life expectancy in the US has fallen in recent years, infant mortality rates are higher than in many European countries and the cost of healthcare is a leading cause of bankruptcy for American families.

Healthcare and politics in Portugal

I recently spoke to a couple who moved to Portugal the same year I did, 2019. A month after they arrived, one of them fell seriously ill with a rare autoimmune disorder and was hospitalized for a month followed by four months in a rehabilitation facility. Portugal has a national healthcare system which provides free or low cost care to the population. This particular couple had private health insurance (this is a requirement for Americans to obtain the D7 visa to move to Portugal), but they were still terrified they would be hit by huge bills. Guess what? They weren’t. “In the states we would have been medically bankrupt,” they told me.

Politically, Portugal has a parliamentary system where many political parties typically have to form alliances. The country just held an election on January 30 where the center-left Partida Socialista of Prime Minister António Costa was returned to power with an overall majority. Costa called the election in November after failing to win support from left-leaning parties for his proposed budget. After living in the US where the razz-a-ma-tazz of elections seems non-stop, Portuguese elections are refreshingly swift and modest affairs. The candidates actually focus on the issues rather than smearing each other’s characters like playground bullies.

Feeling safe

Safety was another factor some people mentioned. After living here for more than two years I can definitely vouch for this. As a woman walking around Lisbon or Porto on my own I have never felt unsafe.

Now for all the other reasons why Americans are moving to Portugal: great climate, low cost of living, beautiful beaches, historic cities and towns etc etc.

Yes, I appreciate those too. I was born in the US but lived most of my young life in various European countries. I longed to get back to a place where I felt more at home, where people mattered more than the competitive consumer culture. But the main reason I decided on Portugal, rather than one of the other European countries I was more familiar with –such as Spain or France– was the Portuguese people. The first time I came to Portugal on vacation in 2011, I was so impressed by the welcoming attitude and kindness of everyone I met, that I began dreaming about moving here. I knew I couldn’t retire in the US. And Portugal has not disappointed.

Blue skies above the city of Porto, the second largest metropolis in Portugal.

Why I’m learning Portuguese, and how

The city of Lisbon with the Castelo São Jorge overlooking the red rooftops.

A lot of posts I see in Facebook groups for people interested in moving to Portugal ask questions about learning the Portuguese language. Many of the replies comment on Portuguese being a difficult language. I disagree. Why? Let me count the ways.

Portuguese is what they call a “Romance language” – this has nothing to do with love – it merely means it is a language that evolved from Latin, the language we commonly associate with the Romans. As such, it is similar to French, Spanish and Italian. So, if you have a knowledge of any of these other languages, you have a head start on learning Portuguese.

Another point I’d like to make about learning Portuguese. If you have learned any other language, you have a basic grasp of what I call the “mechanics” of a language. It’s not unlike knowing how to use a hammer and screwdriver, power tools, working with engines or mathematics. If you understand the big picture – why doing A and B in the right order will get you to C – you can apply the same logic from one language to another.

Written Portuguese looks quite similar to Spanish. If you can read Spanish you can probably figure out a lot of what you read in Portuguese. However, the pronunciation is radically different. A lot of English speakers think Portuguese sounds like a slavic language. A Bulgarian woman I met recently disagreed completely. Still, the sh and zh sounds in Portuguese sure sounded like Russian to me the first time I heard it.

Questions to ask yourself

In the end, a lot depends on the individual. Is learning to speak the local language important to you? Do you see that as part of accommodating to a new country, culture and lifestyle? Are you committed to making the effort to learn? Many people in Portugal speak English so it is relatively easy to get by without having more than a few phrases. However, not knowing any Portuguese can be a huge drawback if you find yourself out in the country and need to buy something or get some vital service and no one in the village speaks any English.

A few resources

So, how do you learn Portuguese? I first visited this country in 2011 and was so smitten that I immediately enrolled in a class through my local university’s continuing education program. Unfortunately the class was dropped after the first semester for lack of participants. I went looking online. Babbel.com offers Portuguese among its selections. Be warned, it is the Brazilian version of the language. Think–learning British English versus US English versus Australian English– you get the idea. The accent is different, some grammar and many words are different.

I see many comments on the Facebook groups that seem to advise against learning Brazilian Portuguese. I disagree. There are thousands of Brazilians living in Portugal and you will hear it here, especially in big cities like Lisbon or Porto. The lessons offered by Babbel deal with real life situations, they are easy to follow and fun! The monthly subscription is just under $13, less if you sign up for several months.

Duolingo is an app you can use for free on your smartphone. This also is Brazilian but it is helpful and it nags you daily to keep practicing. Memrise is another app you can use on your phone. It offers continental Portuguese.

For the Portuguese spoken in Portugal, I found the best experience with Practice Portuguese. This is a great website started by two guys, Rui and Joel who offer videos, short conversations with text and translations, extensive information on verbs and a wealth of other useful material. Absolutely great for listening and learning. A subscription costs a little under $20, or 15 Euro per month. The videos and conversations are lively and informative. Well worth the time, expense and effort.

Many people rely on Google translate to translate from English into Portuguese. But often you can come up with some very weird results. Some other alternatives worth trying are Deepl. The website Linguee is an online dictionary.

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What I’ve learned from two years living in Portugal

Spring flowers in Portugal — A carpet of oxalis flowers on my little piece of land in Portugal is a portent of spring.

I see a lot of posts on Facebook groups from people who are considering a move to Portugal. Many of them ask what is the best place to live? After more than two years living in Portugal I think I can offer some useful information. My advice to anyone considering a move to this country is to come here for as long as you can to get a real sense of the place. You can do all the research in the world online; but nothing, nothing, compares with what you will learn by having your feet on the Portuguese earth.

Also, ask yourself a lot of questions: Are you used to living in a city? Do you want to have shopping and restaurants within easy reach? Do you get upset if you can’t find the products and food you are used to? Can you adapt to new ways of doing things? Are you willing to learn a new language? Many Portuguese speak English but an ability to speak the language gives you a big advantage.

What are the most memorable things I’ve learned? Hard to say. I will list a few things in no particular order.

Portuguese people are some of the kindest you will meet anywhere. Almost without fail, they are willing to go the extra mile to spend time to offer you whatever help they can. That said, everybody gets that attention and you may have to wait your turn.
Portuguese bureaucracy can take time. Some expats complain about the amount of bureaucracy to do things like getting a driving license or opening a bank account. Remember, all countries have their version of red tape. It’s just that when you move to a new country you have to deal with a lot of it all at once.
If you are 65 years old or more you travel half price on the trains. Comboios de Portugal, the train service in Portugal is efficient, on-time and very user friendly.
Portuguese weather is generally kind. It’s hot in the Alentejo and Algarve regions south of Lisbon, with summer temperatures soaring over 100 degrees F (38 Celsius). But in the central and northern regions it is more temperate. Winters are milder too, with frost or snow rare except in the far north. In most areas you can grow oranges, bougainvillea and banana trees.
Portuguese winters can be very wet! When it rains in Portugal it is often a deluge. The rain can continue for days.
Dampness can be a big problem in houses. Many people complain of mold and mildew in their homes. You have to be vigilant about ensuring adequate ventilation. Buy a dehumidifier!
Portuguese houses are usually not well insulated! They stay beautifully cool in the hot summers but can be freezing in the winter. An electric under blanket can make life cosy.
Many people rely on wood burning stoves for heat. Remember to buy most of your wood in the fall. If you buy supplies after Christmas you may end up with some damp wood. If you are paying for it by the ton, wet wood ends up costing you more and it is hard to get your fire going.

So, as I head into my third year here, I am happy to see flowers blooming on my land. I look forward to many hikes in the spring and to planting my vegetable garden.

spring flowers in central Portugal — So many colorful flowers to brighten each day.

Portugal celebrates the season

Christmas goodies on display at my local Intermarché supermarket in Portugal

As Christmas approaches, stores in Portugal are brimming with decorations, boxes of chocolates and mounds of foods appropriate to the season. Friends, neighbors and people in the stores are offering each other the traditional Christmas and New Year’s wishes, which in Portuguese are: “Feliz Natal e Prospero Ano Novo.” New Year’s Eve is called “Passagem do Ano” or passing of the year.

Fireworks are typical at the New Year season and the past two years even my rural area has, at times, sounded like the middle of a battlefield. Unfortunately the latest surge of Covid infections has forced the cancellation of many traditional firework displays and other public celebrations. Still, the city streets are decorated with colored lights and the atmosphere is festive.

Christmas decorations in Praça do Comercio and Rua Augusta in Lisbon, Dec. 2019.

While Portugal has a wealth of pastries for sale every day at its thousands of cafés, the traditional sweet eaten during the Christmas season is Bolo Rei or King’s cake. This is a round bread-like cake decorated with crystalized fruits. It is especially typical on January 6, the day celebrated for the arrival of the Magi, or three kings.

Turkey has become a staple of Christmas meals in the US and UK. Cranberry sauce is a regular accompaniment in the US, while brussels sprouts or parsnips are popular in the UK. When I lived in western Norway the Christmas dish for Julebord was pinnekjøtt made from dried salted ribs of lamb served with boiled potatoes. Here in Portugal traditional Christmas fare is bacalhau (dried salted cod) and cabbage. It seems counterintuitive that this would be a festive dish since dishes featuring bacalhau can be found on the menu year round at any restaurant. But there you go.

Bacalhau is an age old way of preserving codfish by salting it and drying it. Before it can be cooked it must be cut in pieces and soaked for many hours and the water changed several times to remove the salt. Huge slabs of dried cod are stacked in every supermarket year round, giving off a – shall we say – “distinctive” odor.

Stacks of bacalhau, dried salted cod, for sale at my local Intermarché supermarket.

Be sure to follow my blog to hear tales of everyday life in Portugal. Feliz Natal!

I keep on writing, in Portugal!

I have been fortunate enough to find opportunities to keep my writing skills honed while learning more about my newly adopted country, Portugal. The online magazine Portugal Living Magazine has a wealth of articles with useful and fascinating information for those interested in moving here or people who can glean practical tips for everyday life.

The latest issue is now available and below is a glimpse at the recent piece I wrote about Coimbra, Portugal’s third largest city, one-time capital and home to its oldest university. (page 44 in the current issue.)

Another of my articles that appears in the current issue of Portugal Living focuses on a unique type of team-building called Equine Assisted Training. Individuals and groups benefit from learning leadership techniques and group management styles through a series of exercises with horses. Working for the folks who run the EAT courses was what brought me to this part of central Portugal as a Workaway.com volunteer in 2018. A year later I was lucky enough to find my dream house in the same village. I still help out with the horses. (on page 32.)

Olive pressing the old fashioned way – hard work, but jolly

The grandson of the owner of the Casal de Santa Iria olive press, or lagar, helps my Belgian neighbor unload his olives ready for pressing.

Olive harvesting is well under way in my part of Portugal. Today, most of the olive presses are modern affairs that look like an industrial brewery. They use heat in the pressing process and many people say that the heat affects the taste of the oil. But there are still some old-fashioned presses that use traditional methods of cold pressing. The old ways are much more labor-intensive. There is a lot of camaraderie as the workers perform the multiple steps that transform the whole olives into a puree which is then squeezed to release the precious golden-green oil.

I had the great good fortune to visit one of these old-fashioned olive presses recently when I helped my neighbor, Chris, with his harvest. He and his wife had helped me pick my olives. In return, I helped them pick theirs. We went together to an olive press in a nearby hamlet. The Portuguese word for olive press is “lagar”, with the emphasis on the second syllable.

The Casal de Santa Iria lagar is a family affair; owned by Grandfather Manuel, and operated by his son and grandson. When we arrived, the grandson guided the car with the trailer bearing the bags of olives onto a weigh station. The weighing machinery reminded me of an antiquated vote tabulating machine. Once weighed, an augur crushes the olives into a purée that looks like tapenade. The purée is fed into a pipe and when a worker turns a spigot, it spreads out onto a spinning circular mat. The mats, which look as if they are made of woven rope, have a hole in the middle. When covered with the olive purée, workers lift the mat and slide it onto a spindle.

They repeat this process, building a stack of mats on the spindle. When the stack gets about waist high, a mechanism lowers the spindle platform so they can continue piling the mats. Eventually, it looks like a giant stack of pancakes about 2 meters high.

The workers then wheel the spindle platform over to one of four pressing stations. When the spindle of mats is fixed into the pressing station, pressure is applied from below to squeeze out the precious olive oil.

Above left, olives in the hopper. Above: olive purée spreads on a spinning rope mat, while a worker stacks an olive-coated mat onto a spindle.

When we visited, the place was noisy and somewhat hazardous, since the floor was slick with olive oil. But the workers were okay when my neighbor and I wandered around having a good look and taking plenty of pictures. All the machinery looked like the kind of heavy industrial engineering you would have maybe seen in a WWII-era munitions factory. But this was a step ahead of the old-style crushing by stone that characterised even older olive presses.

From left: Workers fixing the spindle into the pressing station. A pressing station halfway through the pressing. A metal collar collects the oil.

The oil is collected in a basin affixed to the base of the spindle and funnelled to a nearby vat. A worker explained to us that the squeezing process yields water as well as oil. In the vats, the water sinks to the bottom and the oil floats.

Meanwhile, the stack of mats is taken away, a worker removes what remains from the crushed olive residue and the mats are reused. The brown, earthy-looking residue reminded me of slices of peat that I had seen people burn in Ireland. According to the lagar owner’s grandson, the residue can be sold for further processing to produce oil which is used for cosmetics,

Left: vats of freshly pressed olive oil. Right: a worker removes the crushed olive residue from the rope mats which are then reused.

The rule of thumb is usually about 10 percent of oil to the weight of olives. My neighbors received about 17.5 litres of oil from their 180 kilos of olives. We went back to their house and did a ritual tasting, dipping pieces of bread into a bowl of the freshly pressed oil. It tasted strong, with a slight acidity, very different from anything I’ve ever bought in a store.

A modern olive press or “lagar” looks like a brewery. It uses heat to aid in the pressing process.

Answering questions:

A couple of people have asked me about eating the olives. The answer is no, you can’t eat them off the tree. The olives harvested in my area of central Portugal are almost all for oil. People do use a few of them for eating but you have to brine them first.

I tried this a couple of years ago using a recipe a neighbor gave me. It is labor intensive. You have to cut a nick in each olive. Make a solution of water and salt and soak the olives in brine in sterilised jars. Change the solution every other day, repeating the process five times over ten days. Finally, rinse the olives and store them in brine in the jars, making sure they are filled to the brim. Float a little olive oil on the top to help seal the jar. They can then be stored for several months. Rinse the olives when you want to use them and add some chopped garlic and chopped bayleaf. Delicious!

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Castles and palaces show Portugal’s rich history

Fountain in the garden of Palacio de Queluz — Fountain in the garden of the Palacio de Queluz, near Sintra. The palace was used as a summer residence by the Portuguese royals in the 18th and 19th centuries. In its elegance and grandeur it is reminiscent of the Palace of Versailles outside Paris.

Portugal’s history includes its share of battles and adventures and you can imagine those distant days with a visit to some of its many castles and palaces. Before I settled in Portugal, I took the opportunity to visit some of the main tourist destinations, Lisbon’s Castelo São Jorge, the Moorish castle in Sintra, the Templar castle and Convento de Cristo in Tomar and the walled town of Obidos.

But since I settled here two years ago, I have rarely ventured out to play tourist – until the past week. On Monday, I took the train down to Lisbon and transferred via urban train to go to Queluz. This is on the outskirts of Lisbon, near Sintra which has many tourist attractions. Queluz is famous for a palace, the Palácio de Queluz which started life as a hunting lodge. The transformation began in 1747 under Dom Pedro who married his niece, the future Queen Maria I in 1760. It’s considered one of the finest examples of rococo architecture

Vast and rambling, it is reminiscent of the Palace of Versailles outside Paris. You can easily spend a couple of hours wandering through the elegantly furnished rooms. Outside there are extensive formal gardens with pools, terraces, fountains and statues depicting characters from Greek mythology – and some pretty weird-looking fish!

The mirror-lined Throne Room used for balls and banquets, with detail showing gilded statues of Atlas.

The palace also has its tragic side. Queen Maria I was apparently so grief-stricken by the death of her son José from smallpox in 1788 that she eventually went mad.

The Sala dos Embaixadores, or Ambassadors’ room which was used to receive visiting foreign dignitaries and for concerts.

Medieval Adventures

Delving further back into Portugal’s history, a visitor can easily discover Roman ruins and the many defensive castles built during the reconquest from the Moorish invasion in the early Middle Ages and from dynastic disputes with Portugal’s much larger neighbor, Spain.

About 40 minutes drive north of where I live, in central Portugal, is the town of Penela. The small town not far from the famous university city of Coimbra, is home to a medieval castle perched on top of a hill overlooking a vast farming and forested area.

Be prepared to do some climbing as you walk up the narrow streets of the town to the hilltop castle. Remember, this was a key defensive spot. You can walk along the narrow crenelated stone ramparts and look down the dizzying drop to the valleys below. A the highest point, there is a huge stone surrounded by walls with niches equipped with slits and small holes where fighters could fire arrows and lob whatever they threw in Medieval times. At the base of the structure are a life-size replica of a trebuchet and a catapult, weapons used to hurl objects at enemies in Medieval times.

View of the castle of Penela from below. Be prepared to climb some steps, but the view from the top is worth it.

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Olive harvesting in Portugal: brings friends, and neighbors together in new ways

For the first time, I harvest olives from my own two trees, with the help of my wonderful neighbors, Chris and Anemie.

Note: I wrote this post in the fall of 2021, but it’s olive season again here in my part of Portugal and I am out picking olives with many of my neighbors. I love the way people follow the seasons, performing the age-old tasks that bring them together. Portuguese olive oil isn’t well known in the US or Britain, but it is superb, and in my little corner of Portugal, it is made with love.

October in my part of Portugal means Olives. This year the trillion or so olive trees that cover the hillsides and valleys around my village are loaded with olives. Great news for all my neighbors because last year there was nary an olive to be harvested.

I too have become obsessed with these little nuggets that yield valuable oil and tasty treats. I only have two trees on my land but the amount of olives hanging on those branches convinced me they needed harvesting. I made an agreement with one set of neighbors, to bring my olives over to their place. They have enough trees to yield the 400 kilos of olives to warrant their own pressing at the local “lager” or olive press. This means, they can make an appointment to bring their harvest and get the oil from their very own olives.

If you don’t have a big enough yield for your own pressing, you just take them along to the lager and they get mixed in with others. The oil you get is a mixture of your own olives and that from everyone else.

Olive picking in some parts of Portugal is highly mechanised. But here in the central part of the country, it is still a very labor intensive job, done by hand. It’s an opportunity for friends and neighbors to come together and spend a few hours or days working at this basic task.

First you spread out a huge green net to catch the fruit. Then, someone goes up the ladder into the tree, cuts branches and tosses them down to the picking crew on the ground. You can strip the olives from the branch either by hand or a small plastic rake. Once the tree is picked clean, the crew gathers up the big green net and dumps the olives into a large plastic bucket. It reminded me of documentaries I’ve seen about fishermen collecting their catch in the old days.

This year, my Belgian neighbors helped me pick, I also helped some British friends and neighbors pick and clean their olives. It’s a community affair and I love it!

The next step is to run the harvested olives through a machine called a “Lena” (leena) to remove any remaining twigs and stems. It’s basically a big drum with a hopper on top, a shaker mechanism and a fan that blows the cleaned olives through to a chute where they drop into a big bucket. The cleaned olives are then stored in heavy plastic backs until they can be taken to the olive press.

Olives harvested from my trees, my neighbours German workaday volunteers operate the Lena machine to clean the olives, and I beam at the cleaned olives in the big purple vat. Behind me are plastic bags of olives waiting to go to the press.

Hopes high as olive season nears

Olives are gradually changing from green to black, indicating they are nearly ready to be harvested.

My favorite time of year is fast approaching: olive season! It’s the time when the valleys all around me are buzzing with activity as neighbors are frenziedly making sure every last olive is picked.

Portugal is fast-becoming a major exporter of olives and olive oil. In 2000, Portugal exported about 40,000 tonnes of olives. By 2018, that rose to more than 134,000 tonnes. Most of the olives are grown and harvested in the Alentejo region, south of Lisbon. There, it’s all about intensive farming, high yields and advanced methods of producing the oil. Portugal now has more than 460 olive mills.

Harvesting the traditional way

Ladders used to access olive branches. Some people just climb into the trees.

Where I live, in central Portugal, olive harvesting is still done the old-fashioned way. As I only have two puny little olive trees on my land, I help my friends and neighbors with their harvest. It goes like this: you spread a large green net beneath the tree, someone climbs up and cuts olive-laden branches and the crew on the ground strips off the fruit. A lot of it is done by hand. Some people use tiny plastic rakes.

Everyone joins in. I’ve seen a grandmother of nearly eighty years old working alongside her granddaughter. Expats who come to live in Portugal are just as enthusiastic. From the middle of September onward, discussions are all about when the harvest will begin. In 2019 there was a bumper crop, but last year, there were hardly any olives and few people bothered to pick. This year, the trees are heavy with fruit and they are gradually turning black.

Once picked, the olives collect on the net beneath the tree. When the tree is completely stripped, the crew gathers the net together and dumps the olives into a big plastic bin. A machine locally known as a “leena” is used to remove any remaining stems and leaves and the olives are poured into large plastic bags.

Pressing the olives into oil

The local olive press is called the “lagar.” If you have a lot of trees and can pick several hundred kilos of olives, you can get your own “pressing.” This means that the oil you get from the lagar is from your very own olives. Since the lagar is usually operating round-the-clock during olive harvest, you have to book an appointment for your own pressing. Otherwise, if you only have a small amount, you take it to the press and they are added in with other people’s olives. The oil you receive depends on how many kilos of olives you bring.

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