Spring fever and itchy feet

These last three months of winter have been a little boring and deceptive here in Alvor. In restrospect, may be it was not the perfect place to spend the winter on the boat, considering my own personal taste, even if the anchorage is very protected. Though, Algarve and Alvor were the obvious places logistically speaking..The natives are wary even some seem a little hostile of us foreigners. Alvor has really been sold, probably given away the last 30 years to the British mostly. The 2 main streets are ligned up with so many restaurants and bars that it is quite ridiculous. Everything is targeted for British often run by British who are masters in segregation, cultural, racial and social....

With this particularly harsh winter, there were not much to do or go, no way to work on the boat except for small inside projects. No really any hiking to do beside the beautiful beach and the little hill behind the village. I missed hiking a lot.

In short, that is not the Portugal we had started to like and apreciated on our way down the West coast.

But as the sun is shinning everything is looking brighter.... 

winter attack

I am glad RödeOrm is not among them....

The day after my return, Magnus took off on his own mission leaving me in charge during 5 weeks. February has been the worst month of this worst winter in Europe since ages and we were not forgotten down here.  We had near gales, and even gales right after another.

Rödeorm dragged anchor during the first blow though the wind was blowing no more than 35 knots, 40 knots. It was unexpected since we had stayed put on this anchor during 3 months even during a strong blow at Christmas. The holding is good in this deep muddy bottom, but tides and currents can shift the anchor and even make mud banks slid and shift also. Not wishing to reanchor at the same place, I took a mooring with the help of our Belgium friend. Seemingly strong and well maintained, I could not trust this mooring entirerly and I secured the boat on its anchor too. We had strong winds and rain every two days to the final gale of the season, a named one blowing 45 to 50 steady winds and gusts up to 60 knots during four five hours. I kept the engine on from the cockpit  watch three unattended boats wash ashore on sand and rocks. The same gale pursued its way up the coast to severly hammered Vendée in France causing a lot of damage and death of more than 50 people. Combine with spring tides, flooding happened here too. Magnus came back when the game was over, just in time to finally enjoy the arrival of Spring with warmer and dryer weather. I am relieved and happy that February and its train of gales is behind us and that ahead of us, the so desired sprayhood is becoming a reality as our British sail maker has decided to put some energy into it !! But was this thing missed during those downpours !!

Enjoying a very old Gallic tradition

Brioche

frangipane

A short stay in France was the perfect occasion to indulge in one of a very old culinary tradition the very French Galette des Rois.


A celebration of Christ being visited by the Magi, the epiphany was set to January the 6th by Pope Julius II. Also known as le jour des Rois, this is the day when the three kings are traditionally added next to the crib. Over the years, this religious festival overlapped with pagan traditions that went back to the Roman Saturnalia.

From the Middle Ages, the epiphany has been celebrated with a special Twelfth Night cake: la galette des rois, literally the King's cake. The galette differed according to the regions: for example it was made of puff pastry in Paris, but made of brioche and shaped as a crown in Provence. Under Louis XIV, the Church considered this festival as a pagan celebration and as an excuse for indulgence, and it was subsequently banned. To get around this ban, it became la fête du bon voisinage (literally, 'neighbourly relations day'). This culinary tradition even survived the French Revolution when it became the ‘Gâteau de l’Êgalité (the equality cake), as Kings were not very popular in those years!
The cake contains a lucky charm (une fève) which originally was a bean, a symbol of fertility. Whoever found the charm in their slice of cake, became King or Queen and had to buy a round of drinks for all their companions. This sometimes resulted in stingy behaviour and to avoid buying a round of drinks, the potential King or Queen very often swallowed the bean! This is why towards the end of the 19th and the beginning of the 20th centuries, the lucky charm started being made of china. The charm can take any shape or form and can either be very plain or more sophisticated (glazed or handpainted). It sometimes represents a religious figure such as the baby Jesus, but it can be virtually anything. Little horseshoe shapes are popular as they are thought to bring luck. Although nowadays very often made of plastic, old-fashioned china charms are still used and they have become a collectable item.
The modern Galette des Rois is made of puff pastry and can be plain or filled with frangipane, an almond-flavoured paste or the lighter  brioche. It is sold in all French bakeries and eating the galette at the beginning of January is still a very popular tradition and an opportunity for families and friends to gather around the table. Now day, the tradition is extended to the entire month of January.Tradionally, the youngest person in the room (usually a child) hides under the table and shouts out which guest each slice of cake should be given to. The person who finds the fève in their slice of galette becomes the King or Queen and is given a golden paper crown. The King or Queen then has to choose his Queen or her King, by dropping the lucky charm in their glass.

it is winter here too...

Since three weeks, we had fronts after fronts bringing a lot of rain and strong winds up to 45/50 knots in gust just before Christmas. Tremendous amount of rain provided us with plenty water for the tank and we could spare some to wash sheets and clothes. The only problem was to dry them. Fortunately one day out three was sunny and dry. It is quite unusual to have this kind of weather for so long here, but the rest of Europe is far more in trouble than us. Temperature can be as low at 35°F at night. But the wind can be a nonsense when we want to go ashore with the dinghy. Sometimes we just have to wait 2 or 3 days before being able to row ashore.
No luck with British sail makers.... After waiting for 3 weeks here in Alvor, mostly delayed by bad weather,(that was the excuse..) the guy just told us he partly broke in Achilles tendon and has to go back to UK. would he be able to resume the work in three weeks? Can we believe that ?
Having given him a deposit, we decided to wait since the weather is not settled anyway and Alvor is the best shelter we could find. So we are part of the little floating village of Alvor, 2 french boats, 1 Belgium, two or three British, one german.
Needless to say that we socialize easier with the French speaking crowd...

Today is our one year anniversary of moving on Röde Orm. A very big step for Magnus.

the picture above has been borrowed

Bom Natal, Merry Christmas !!

Who need a laudromat when you have a viking at hand swallowing his pride as he decides to do the laundry on my birthday ? A night rain filled up the dinghy and what more fun to wash the bed sheets in it ! A foam bath could be next but the sun will have to reajust its thermostat. We also are victims here of a cold spell that freeze Europe. No ice or snow, but rain and wind and temperature below normal. Merry Christmas to my faithful readers and friends.

Alvor déja vu

Alvor.. déjá vu

We are still waiting for the new dodger (spray hood) but we have definitely discarded the first sail maker, the one we waited for during 2 weeks... He has simply and shamelessly doubled his first estimate. Another british sailmaker has been recommended to us and was definitely more reasonable and agreedable. Since he has to order the Stainless Steel tubes and fabric, we have to wait another 10 days before completion. Alvor is only 5 miles away and it is a good change in scenery, close enough to come back for some fitting sessions and final installation.
Two years ago if someone had predicted I would come back to Alvor I would have shrugged in disbelief certain I would never again see this little village after an unscrupulous skipper (see entry "a little set back, November 2007) dropped me off on the pier.
It does not bring back bad memories though. Instead I like to think that without this rather unpleasant experience, I would never have met Magnus and Röde Orm. The anchorage is popular for shallow draft boats which can careen on the sand bank. The laguna entrance is shallow and narrow, barely marked by 2 buoys. Entering at mid flood is the best to spot the sand banks and stay in the channel. The anchorage is totally protected and lot more crowded than I remembered it. Obviously a chosen and cheaper place for some to winter their boats on mooring balls. The village is less genuine and more touristy than Ferragudo and the Brits seem to have taken over. Most are thankfully back home to their northern gloom. There is too many cafés and restaurant targeting the british community for my taste, but a lot are closed during the off season. The locals seem overwhelmed by the invasion and are more reserved toward us, the foreigners.
Notherless it is quiet with the nice surronding of dunes and cliffs with the Monchique mountains as a background, no cities or big resorts in view. The village seems to have survived the oveflow of tourists and keep some of its originality with its old houses and steep streets and a lovely church. We enjoy the nice modern swimming pool, two steps from the anchorage.

nosing around...

The sign that we have over prolonged our stay here is that today the leader of the village mutt band a.k.a "the rag" allowed us to pet his bushy rasta coat. He had ignored us totally before. In his little dog mind, he just thinks he gave us today resident status...

There is always half a dozen of mutts from the village trotting back and forth down to the waterfront where action is.

Small, result of endless mixture of breeds, gentle and pacific there are part of the village life as much as the fishermen mending their nets on the pier or the elderly men who sit at the terrasse of the cafés. I could even say irreverently that they look alike : husky, skin of hair seasoned by wind and sun, sociable, modest, they enjoy life at peace with their surroundings and neighbors.

Locals, dogs, cats and humans live in a fragile harmony since generations but will that be compromised by an ugly project of resort/marina on Ferragudo shores ? Where will go our little mutts do their mishief or the elderlies for their daily walk if not on the marshy shores which are menaced by the project ?