All Alone…Remembering Robin Williams

         Sometimes life makes you stop dead in your tracks and wonder what is this life all about.  Is procreation the end goal?  Laughter?  The written word?  Finding another to blunder through with the best you can?  What if you do all this and still harbor somewhere deep inside a pain so great, you feel no one understands?
          A respected man died Tuesday.  A man I felt so good knowing he lived with me on earth. He had a manic, witty, sharp tongued improv gift that left me with a joy and laughter so fulfilling.  To hear Robin Williams was no longer walking among us stopped me dead in my tracks, a sadness so profound I knew many would wonder, if Robin could harbor this great pain with all his successes, what do we live for?  I didn’t. I simply knew we are all alone.  We provide the lens we see life through.  Those that suffer with the challenge of depression see through their own.

          I want to understand at times, then I realize I don’t want to see life through their eyes.  Might they be right?   No amount of laughter and comedy, sharp wit, brave soul, excellent acting could stop this great man from taking his own life.  I don’t understand .   I didn’t know him personally.   He knew he was alone in his pain, with a depth so deep he handled it himself, his way.  I am not to judge.  His successes were huge, his impact profound, his abilities remarkable, his mind wide open and his demeanor a man of peace.  One may think he didn’t have this peace, although he had wonderful children, a loving wife, friends and enormous love in the world.  Yet, he was alone.  Alone he committed a final act, which means he no longer walks among us.          

         Robin Williams will always live on for me.  I can watch what he left behind and smile and laugh, rejoice and ponder, live life a little more joyful, for he left us all with a legacy that cannot be forgotten.  Life lessons that won’t be neglected and a reminder that life can be fun.  I’m going to take that home.  The fact that he left us by his own hand is shocking yet telling.  It’s ourselves who decides, ourselves who chooses and our selves who lives on.  Robin Williams will always make me smile.  He doesn’t want us sad.

It’s the Rain…..Why we love…..

The rain.

It’s the rain caressing the rooftop so casually, smooth muted drops greeting me as I return home from three weeks in the dry desert.  I’d heard we had gotten no rain, I wished it did do its torrential task and bask our forest, gardens and rivers with the much-needed rain while I was gone.  Another drought year we feared and rain it did not. Yet coming home, tow truck letting my car down on the moist road, I arrive at midnight; as does the drizzle.  I embrace it, arms open, the dark night with droplets of rain falling from the sky wetting my upturned face.  I am in love again. Surprised at the warmth I feel with cool drops falling gently to refresh what I love about living here.

It’s the rain.

Cold or not?

Cold or not?

How can that be?  A friend just left and it was cold the entire time she was here.  Ever vigilant with a fire or two, her constant observation was she was cold.   When the wood stove and fireplace were blazing, she was fine.  In-between those times with chilly weather, cold.  It was almost all we could think of all day, now that the heater wasn’t working, where would we get wood from?  Stop by an old ‘flames’, (no pun intended) wood there, borrow from a friend, a bit there.  Scrounge the yard for kindling.  Did we have enough for the day and night??
I had just moved into a home I had previously rented.  The heater didn’t work and there was no big wood pieces just lying around.  The home was empty, rugs filthy, yard wildly overgrown.  A bit to do before I moved my belongings in.  I love this home and every room had a sliding door I could leave open.  Which I often did.  Now with the cold I had to remember not to leave it open as my friend would feel the draft and we’d lose the warmth we so desperately coddled.  Once, I’d slid a closet door open and thinking it was the outside slider, she felt the draft.  Cold.  Cold.  Cold.
She kept me company as I relived my years of leaving this place. Hot coffee in morning, chores during the day with heater on in the car.  Home and start the fire.  It was her task and I was glad, as I had carpets to rip up, cleaning, work to be done, phone calls to make, utilities on and all that encompasses moving into a new place.
She left after a few days and then I was alone again.   Which has its advantages, as I no longer had to think of another, selfish as that sounds.  I could work when I wanted, go where I dare and all on my schedule.  It did mean I had to start my own fires.   Dang it, I’d be cold till I started the fire!  It was then I realized.  I wasn’t cold.   Did it just get warmer outside?  What happened?  Why am I not bundled up as before?  How is it warmer in just a day, hours even?  Then I realized again.  It is partly a state of mind.  Just as she’d felt the draft when I opened a sliding closet door, as she thought it was the outside door, I wasn’t constantly reminded of the cold and was back to being myself.  It’s warm.  Why?  Maybe body fat helps.  Maybe because I live in a warm climate.  It has chilly days and I get cold, yet it is not a constant.    Can I be relieved she is gone?  The constant thoughts of how she is?  How much work it is to be with another?  Doesn’t that just sound awful?  Am I really just that much of a loner?   I’m alone now, warm and loving it.  New home, new times, confidence high.  Warm all over.

Are you a wine snob too??

I knew I was a wine snob the minute I rinsed out the wine glass from the last remnants of red wine in it for the new bottle.  I marveled at its age and smelling the cork, I immediately scolded myself with “who the f-ck  do you think you are now’??  Yet I then noticed the cork was riddled with a deep red color and smelled ripe with age; well at least 4 years worth.  It was a real cork, not like these plastic or particle corks….. Pouring my wine, I filled my glass barely an inch so I could swirl and sniff it and see its ‘legs’ travel down the glass sides indicating the alcohol content and blending.  Who was I?

And then am reminded I am still part Neanderthal when I take the spatula out of the dusty drawer and instinctively wipe it on my pants to clean it before I use it on the cookies just taken out of the oven.

January 01, 2009….. An old New Years rememberance

I visit with my (ex) step-sons often and shortly after the break-up was fortunate to have them for a New Years eve…..

Living in Astoria I was freer to see them often……Astoria has a nice hill with the Astoria column at the top…..you can hike up the 164 steps to the top of the column featuring a detailed story-line carved/drawn on the outside of it’s 125 feet circular ‘canvas’; of the area’s history including the famous Lewis and Clark expedition.  It overlooks the Columbia River, all of Astoria, Washington across the river, the mighty dangerous mouth and Columbia River bar and the estuary around it, offering a wonderful scenic 360 degree view.  A great place to bring in the New Year.

written on Saturday, January 3, 2009 at 12:36pm

“I had a great New Years with my boys….we drove to the top of Astoria, Oregon (past the closed road after 10:00 signs)…to the Astoria Column and total privacy….no one else dared to drive past such threatening signs….7 minutes to go….Overlooking the city, the large mouth of the Columbia River and fireworks sporadically going off….I lamented on the lack of a countdown with 1 minute to go….when my oldest, Christopher, 11; started counting down (duh; New York is not the only one with a countdown) ’60,….49 (he forgot 10 seconds) 48, 47, 46, 45, 44; catching on we joined in; Rueben; the youngest; 8, and I (we’re a little slow)…. 43,42, etc….eventually…….to 3;……2;……..1!!!… we yelled Happy New Year!!!  Seemingly on cue , all the big transport ocean-going huge ships in the river started in sounding their (very loud) horns……did I mention how big they are??  bouncing sounds back and forth, it was perfect…it was too dark to even see them but their presence was suddenly known…..more fireworks and then a flare……we looked at each other in surprise and sheer joy at the coincidence and perfectness of the moment………we ended with sharing what the year past brought that we enjoyed (choosing to ignore the negative things) and what we expected, wanted and dreamed about for the new year….perfect….and cold; plus wet….. we jumped in the car and sped home….”

I remember this New Year every year, my marriage ended years before but physically just that past year and having the kids on my ex’s girlfriend’s birthday (Jan 01) was a treat unexpected.  It was perfect and the joys of those years cherished.  Happy Happy New Year everyone and may this year be all you dream of and expect.  I expect love!!!!!

Tuesday 11-20-12 Flight home to the good ‘ole USA…. From Spain to Morocco, France and Portugal….. Back to my country…..

An early morning rise to catch a flight at 6:30 AM.  What are all these people doing up so early at the airport??  The lines are long and its a good thing I listened and got here (well, almost) 2 hours early.  All my repacking to get my luggage weight down (leaving a few things, like wine) are for naught.  My travel scale is off!  I am seriously overweight.    I start taking thing out of my luggage, trying to get the weight down with absolutely no idea what I will do with the stuff!  I crazily put stuff on the counter as I do this.  With no clear idea what I might do with them.  I think to myself, I’ll just throw away some dirty clothes, socks, underwear, older jeans, now piled high on the counter; the fear of losing 50 euros is making me do weird things.  I grab the trekking poles, thinking I’ll act as if I need them!  The agent finally relents and says, it’s okay (now)!   Then she decides to weigh my carry on!  Dang it.  Seriously overweight as well!  She tells me matter of factually that I need to check it and I have to pay 50€!!   Dang it!  I have no choice and a pile of dirty clothes, so I ask if I can take out a tote bag I have packed in my luggage.  It was my carry-on on the trip over.  At least I can keep my clothes!!   She does ignore the few kilos overweight on my computer pack.  I gotta travel lighter and have more restraint!!  I am certain she is glad I am gone as I limp away with nothing hurt but my pride.

Getting on the plane I realize I have chosen the emergency exit isle!  As I seemingly ‘gimp’ on, I get looks from fellow travelers; (I assume) questioning my ability to function in this row, should we need it!  No, no, just overweight luggage, don’t tell the flight attendant!

Coming back to the States, I find myself helping two Spanish-speaking travelers with simple mis-communications…. funny coming from me, who knows so little!!  I certainly feel for their lack of understanding the language.  I am both happy to hear English and not.  ‘Not’; when it’s terrible English, there’s something about ignorance sometimes…..happy because I am home and can once again understand conversation around me…..There is something to say about not understanding language around me I find.  Being overseas during an election?  Good shit.

When I get through customs and the agent stamps my passport saying to me, “Welcome Home”, I am genuinely happy to hear those words, its comforting even.  My country and I love it!  I love to travel but home is home and I am lucky to be born here and proud to be an American.

I have learned and solidified many things this trip, including:

Pack very light going out on a trip.  You only need two pairs of pants, not four!!  Stay away from cotton pants, other fabrics are lighter, dry faster and if caught in a rainstorm on a mountain hike, cotton can kill.   Just for travel & hiking, gawd; I love cotton…..

Carry ‘throw-aways’, socks & underwear that you were going to throw out, bring to toss after one last use to lighten your load as you leave!!  (However best not at the ticket counter)

Learn basic words in the country you are going in.  Especially bathroom and thank you!  (In that order)

A smile means the same thing in every language…..hard to be mean to someone smiling…..

No TV is truly awesome ….. This can be done at home…..

Listen to your inside voice, hone it.

Remember who is most important.   Even if no one knows where you are, you do.

Bring your own maps!

The road less traveled speaks volumes.

No toll roads save money, not time.  You will pay one way or the another.   There’s always a bright side…. For touring this is great, stop and smell the roses.

Don’t be attached to the outcome.

Don’t judge…..anyone…..(you included)

To hear English, turn on the radio, American music is very prevalent in Spain, France and Portugal.

Don’t take anything personally; it’s not about you……

A GPS is awesome, a life saver for me, but still think for you!!

Don’t assume anything, ask and speak your piece/peace……

Every country has great people; don’t let the few sourpusses sour the trip.

Try everything once.  Well, almost everything.  (blood sausage?- not necessary)

If you take off your shoes to get comfortable on the plane, put them on to go to the bathroom, people miss….

There is always room for personal growth, for everyone…..don’t talk negative about something you know nothing about…..

America is an awesome country, challenges yes, yet look what we did in 200 years, be proud if you are an American.  Or wherever your birth nation is!!

I love my country.

Don’t be afraid of the lack of railings when you know you can, we are often coddled in the states and not use to letting ourselves run free, but don’t run!

Sing with abandon, it’s freeing….(don’t judge me-remember?)

The door you fear to open the most?  Open it!  How else will you know?

Alone is not lonely unless you choose it to be.

You really can do anything you put your mind to.

Life is short, live every moment, like there’s no tomorrow.

You have more strength than even you believe.

Love yourself most.

Everything I write could be wrong.  (courtesy of Richard Bach)

…….it’s all a choice.

Monday, 11-19-12 In Fuengirola, Spain…. The end to my solo travel trip in Spain….

It’s a sunny day as I wake up in my brothers fourth story flat overlooking apartments and buildings in the city.  Ivar and Bridgette have an outside terrace that wraps around three sides of their apartment, very nice.  I had called Peter, our ‘Bulgarian, Swedish, living in Spain‘, friend yesterday to meet and we have a great lunch of paella and beer in the warm Mediterranean sun.  It is super nice out.  Peter knows the owners and they treat us to an anchovy dish with olive oil.  The paella is great here; Restaurante Marisqueria La Carihuela Chica, across the street from the beach, it is sunny today and we sit on the sidewalk tables to bask in it all.  After the meal a local shot of ‘fortified’ wine!  We have a nice visit as we talk about out next adventure.  We all want to go to Egypt!

After I get back, I go out to a local park with Ivar and his three and a half year old son, Liam.  We catch up on news of friends and family.  I see a part of Fuengirola, that’s very nice along the river and Mediterranean Sea fronts and even has a prerequisite castle; fortified area on a hill, I didn’t know was there!  Next time!!!

Dinner is salmon and chips and wine I cannot fit in my luggage because of the weight.

Last night in Spain……life on the other side of the Atlantic, oh so close…..

11-18-12 My really last day in Portugal…… Travel to Marvao & Castelo de Vide

Road to Castelo De Vide

I wake late after a restless night to sunshine!!  Making my way to the dining room and eating the traditional breakfast of bread, jam, ham and cheese, Tony apologizes for the lack of fresh squeezed juice as the oranges on his trees are done for the year.  He usually freezes the juice after the oranges are all picked but has run out of that too!  Tony and I get to talking, as he mentions the place is for sale, he is getting a divorce and must pay off his fourth wife.   Married twenty-five years this time, it’s the only way to pay her off.  His plan is to buy a motor home and hit the road!  He bought this as many years ago and they added on to it to make it the 10 room rural hotel it is today, hopefully a young couple will buy it and continue the tradition.  It is a great stop off point to places further into Portugal and a very fair price!!  This is Quinta Paraiso on toprural.com for 18 euros.  in Alagoa ( Alentejo , Portugal ) near the Spain border on the southeast side of Portugal.

Tony asks me if i have to head right back or do I have time to visit any sites?  I originally thought I needed to head right back but easily respond with a ‘yes’, there’s always time to see another castle and fortified city, right?   I see an opportunity here I will not see for a while!   I spend the morning and early afternoon visiting two more fortified cities……the first is Flor de Vide, a small town with a neat old fortified city and castle area at the top the hill.  I get lost initially or actually ‘Lee’ (my wanna-be trusty GPS) assists in this and after one U-turn on a flat granite rock and then another dead-end, I ask a local, who points the way as I scrap ‘Lee’ and follow the signs!  Once in Flor de Vide, I follow the sign to ‘Castelo’ and wind up a really really cool, scary one way sidewalk they call a road!!  Once in this labyrinth, which is fortunately well signed one way roads it is claustrophobic and I have literally inches of clearance at times, sheez……very scary…..hilly, blind corners with steps to houses right there, real close!!  Cobbled or square granite stones, pretty cool except for the closeness of the buildings and not knowing what was around the next corner!!!  Or when I’d get out of that area…. I guess the locals know to look before stepping out of the house!!  Sheeezzzz……..what a stressful morning……in a cool kinda way…..I wind my way up as far as I dare go, through a skinny arched bricked gateway that gives me a couple inches clearance on each side and it opens to a rock area for a handful of cars to park.  There are only two others parked there and I decide this is it, no further as I see another blind corner available….this is the area inside the fortified walls, ‘Castelo de vide’; it is small and neat, no businesses for the strangers traipsing though their plant decorated, quaint, well kept village.  I walk through the center, hit a few towers and walk the wall in areas, then follow the wall around.  I discover modern bathrooms, inside a wall area, dark and cool.  After  I use the facilities and go out side, I smell peppers and meat roasting, as I go by a couples bar-b-que.  The woman smiles a toothless grin and I tell her it smells good in sign language!  I know I need to press on as I still have that long drive and one more town to visit!  I just don’t know how to get out of Portugal!!

The next town is Marvoa, a fortified city where the ENTIRE the town is within the walls.  It is perched high on a mountain top and the views are promising as I climb up the road, I am not disappointed.  I had a stressful enough time at Castelo de Vide‘s small roads, so I opt out here and park outside to walk the town.  Once inside the walls, I find steps to the wall and climb up the tall 4 steps.   I am rewarded with 360 degree views as I walk around the walls of town!!   The walls changes in elevation in different areas, steep suddenly; 30-50 feet high the width fortunately the same and no railings appearing!!

Steep stairs up to fortified wall….

The wall walkis wide enough so I don’t look and stick to the side with wall to lean on!!  The wall is build in and around granite rocks meshing easily into the structure.  Homes are here and lines of clothes drying in the sun are everywhere.   Fortified walls, clothesline; it is

Great views walking the wall

normal….the castle area is in the far corner and I climb up the neat gardened area past people basking in the sun.  I unfortunately see a gift shop and decide to look.  Mistake.  I buy cork  and wood items, just what I need!  It’s as if I see it as a last chance or get souvenirs and go for it,  will my luggage make the weight goal??  No matter as I hand over my visa.  I’m hopeless!

Walking the wall…..Marvao Portugal

I climb the square fortified area in one corner and it has wonderful cathedral ceilings that I notice and as I take pictures, there is an awesome echo.   The simple click of the camera reverberates!!  I am alone and for some reason start to sing to hear the echo, I guess its better than yelling “hello…hello….llo…..lo…o…o.o.o.o…”……Amazing

The square room is the acoustical magic room Marvao Portugal

Grace comes outta my mouth and I sound awesome!!   Really, the voice is resounding and I awesome!  This room is magic!!  I draw out the ends of the verses, it is so cool!!  That’s my story and I’m sticking to it!!  I have to do a repeat I am so pleased, until I notice a young man politely leaving me to my madness right outside.   Yeah, I gotta get moving!!

The Staircase into the acoustical room….
Marvao, Portugal

With six hours to go, I call my brother who is disappointed I am not going to be back earlier, with the three year old son having to stay up for my drive to Malaga to return the car and Brigette in the hospital with her Mom.  I sure forgot about life while gone!  Nothing to do now but bee-line it back!!  Once I see a castle lit up on the hill above the city…….I drive on!!   I get into the driving and now am use to the cities I have to drive through, even running red lights like the locals!!  (I do see the yellow!)  Sometimes a local follows me thought the red!!….when in Rome….. Bee-bop, techno, rap crap on the radio, I scan often……We get the car back with scarcely a mention of the late hour!  Yay!   I visit with my little brother and we call it a night……back in Fuengirola, my other life is knocking on my door as I ignore it for another day!

Saturday 11-17-12 Last day in Portugal….. A continuing solo journey….

Lucinda has the traditional breakfast fare for me, fresh squeezed orange juice she apologizes for having to put sugar in, as the oranges are a tad tart.  She heats up these really good little tart shaped pies, that are custard like and simply delicious.  Lucinda is making fresh bread today, it is Saturday and I see her kneeling on the floor kneading dough in a huge bowl.   She explains it is easier.  Her son is coming (the name sake to my room,) and she has invited friends, they are going to make traditional cabbage and meat soup, baked bread in a huge clay fired oven, feast and socialize.  She shows me the downstairs where there is another kitchen, the old-fashioned kind.  It has a huge adobe/clay style oven she is starting a fire with wood and brush, after if heats up sufficiently and the coals turn white she will bake the bread.  On the other side is the cook stove area, there is a huge pot hanging from a cast iron hook.  Lucinda tells me this is how her mother always cooked, now she has hooked up a large two burner propane unit they use for industrial size pots.  She has invited me to stay and join them and when I find it will be two hours I feel I must go…. I later realize I should have, as the rain continues all day long and when I get to my next destination, I wind up staying inside for a couple of hours.  I make a lunch with some supplies I have bought and am off.

Lee, my GPS bud winds me thru some small mountain towns where the road goes between buildings and homes close to the road and then the road has had some serious work and is half dirt!  I am in the forest, then brushy area and nary a soul as I wonder if Lee has made a mistake.  After a half hour or so, I do hit larger towns and a once again in civilization.

I hit a major motorway and fear a charge coming but when I exit after what I am sure will be close to 10€, nothing.  Not sure why it kept saying .93€ & 2.12€ at intervals on the road, I added it up!!!  I drive into nowhere it seems.   It rains and rains and rains.  I was also told I should go south past Lisbon and only briefly thought of it, glad I didn’t as when I get to my destination I see an unusual tornado has struck the south coast and they have one life lost and at least four injured at that time.   It is historic as the last tornado was in the early 1900’s.  Our planets weather is truly changing.  It is scary and I just hope the collective consciousness we are all comprised of takes notice and we continue to make serious changes.  My vacation escape does not escape everything.

After a few hours in Quinta Paraiso, my 18€ toprural destination, I decide I have to get out and explore before it gets darker!  Dusk is knocking and I’ve spent a couple of hours indoor listening to an English movie!  In Portugal if a program on TV is in english, they use Portuguese subtitles, they don’t just dub over the language.  Which sucks me in!  It seems there is also a bit more English spoken, even if broken.   Renee Zuewillger is an adorable Bridgette Jones.  When I looked on the Internet, (since  my host has put me next to the server and I get it in my room), I see it claims there are no sights to see near Alagoa, this can’t be true.  I need to get out so start towards town.  Alagoa is the village next to Quinta Paraiso and I think of having dinner there, but decided since I had sandwiches and snacked enough, I skip it.   It is the type of small town they look at you as you pass, a foreign oddity. and soon see a sign to ‘Flor de Rosa’ and drive there.   It seems you don’t have to go far to see another fortified anything, castle, wall, monument.   It is a 12 kilometer drive thru the plains of nowhere (it seems).  It is dark now and lit up nicely, open for anyone to walk into and the display is in both Portuguese and English.   It is the The Monastery of Santa Maria de Flor da Rosa , also called the Monastery of the Order of the Hospital of Flor da Rosa, in the parish of Flor da Rosa , municipality of Crato, district Portalegre in Portugal .

Considered the most important example of a monastery fortified existing in the Iberian peninsula.

Another quaint small town that has gone to sleep as I see no one in the streets.

Tony, the hosts shares a shot of his sweet homemade wine and I relax for the evening.

Friday, November 16th, 2012 In Portugal, touring the local sites near Leiria…. Solo trip continued……

Warm and cozy in my bed, I awake to inclement weather.  Lucinda has set out breakfast, coffee, fresh squeezed orange juice, bread, jam, ham and cheese.  Spanish and Portuguese breakfast seem to be fresh bread sandwiches a lot.  After  I make a lunch I am off.  I plan on touring a few of the many local sites of Churches, monuments and beaches.  The first is a Large Gothic Church in Batalha; Mosteiro Santa Maria da Victoria; “Saint Mary of the Victory”, commonly known as the Batalha Monastry.   Erected in commemoration of the 1385 battle of Aljubarrota and serving as the burial church of the 15th century Aviz dynasty of Portuguese royals.  Impressive as one of the best and original examples of the Gothic style in Portugal, intermingled with the Manueline style.  When I get there I go to an older, not yet totally restored section.   The walls both inside and out are black with mold and weather, moss, agae and greenery growing from some areas.  In one section a maid is working with a bucket and mop, the evidence of restored areas looks great, most has been cleaned and restored and it is evident it takes quite a bit of money and time to restore old churches left to the weather for a century or so!!  The majority of the church is cleaned, scrubbed and restored.

My next stop is to see the Porto de Mois ‘fairy tale’ looking castle.  Originally it was a Moorish fort, different in design than any I’ve seen, small perched on a small hill, yet very beautiful.  Porto de Mós Castle has an irregular pentagon in shape with a tower at each corner, its peaked green turrets giving it the ‘fairy tale’ look.  It was captured from the Moors in 1158 by King Afonso Henriques and eventually converted into the awesome looking fortified palace, notably in the 15th century by King Afonso V.  The castle, is perched on a hill above the town and I envy those who get to look up at it on an every day basis!!  I love this castle!!

I am told of caves nearby but change my mind on a visit amongst the buildings and commercial looks of the place; next I go to Fatima, since I am so close.  I have been Fatima before, yet feel a draw to revisit.  Pope John Paul II has a new monument, I see since my visit in 2001.  Behind him a huge (100’+) cross in bronze.   I walk around the grounds and basilica dedicated to ‘Our Lady of the Fatima’ and the story of the three shepherds who first saw the apparition in 1917.   May 13th to October, once a month on the 13th this apparition appeared, a Lady in White, with a message of prayer, repentance and consecrations.  There is an area where you can buy candles and light them in the ‘torchiere’.  I light candles, visit the church and say prayers; hey! I was brought up Catholic!  Although I am not a practicing Catholic.  I see so much religion on this trip, starting with the faith of the muslim world, Catholics, Jews, Baptist; the wars between so many, then the commonality being the good will and love, divine spirituality and faith, installations’ of values, morals, ethics, trust and honesty, (etc.)  We all see the same God other religions do, find it impossible to think a solo belief is the only God.   There is one, called many many names, based on locality of upbringing, often not a choice but a belief we are given from birth and accept.  The sadness is forgetting the message, as the evidence eons of wars represent and are ever-present.  Is this what anyone’s God preaches?

Next is the beach city of Nazare, a beautiful fishing village I visited before.  It is as gorgeous as I remember, fishing finished for now.   Rain follows me off and on throughout the day.   More huge Vesta windmills dot the coastline and next door a forest with cut bark and cans to hold the ‘bleeding’ resin of the trees.   They are pine trees, the resin collected to make turpentine, resin, paint products and even has medicinal uses, once commonly collected from the 1920’s ( maybe prior also) to 1970’s; trees were heavily planted until the 60’s; the practice went by the wayside, yet with unemployment on the rise, it is another income source practiced again.   Large scars cover the pine trees in one area.  A coastal route back and I am back at Lucinda’s.  ,