Back Roads

Back Roads – Castelo Branco – Jewel of the Portuguese Frontier

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The long, curved road to the top of Colina da Cardosa in Castelo Branco was lined with olive trees.  In this small city of 56,000 it seemed that every available piece of land that didn’t have a building on it was planted with olive trees – even in the median strip!  Being olive aficionados, we were impressed with this urban landscaping that was both functional and edible.  We parked adjacent to Igreja de Santa Maria do Castelo and the ruins of the old castle that dominate the hilltop.  A pathway led us to benches that overlooked the prosperous expanse of the modern city.  The golden hour lit the trees around us with warmth.  As the sky deepened, city lights slowly filled the void. Behind us, on the slope below the castle, the old historic district was already cloaked in night.   Tomorrow we’d spend the day wandering its ancient alleys. 

Located just a short walk from the crest of the hill TRYP Colina Do Castelo Hotel, with its free parking, turned out to be the perfect place to base our wandering of the historic district from.  Better for us to walk downhill than uphill.  From our balcony the next morning, we watched a brilliant sunrise.IMG_8704Fortifying the high ground was the rule centuries ago and the last remnant of Castelo e Muralhas Castelo Branco, the white castle, still commands the skyline above the old historic district of the town.  Much isn’t known of the history of Castelo Branco before 1182, when it is first mentioned in a royal document decreeing land to who else, but those prolific castle builders the Knights Templar.  Only 18km (11 miles) from the Spanish border, the fortified village quickly grew into an important center of commerce and line of defense to protect the Portuguese frontier.  Today only two towers and a wide section of the ramparts are all that remained to remind us of this once mighty fortress and walled city.  Igreja de Santa Maria do Castelo is thought to be the first church built in the village, when it was constructed within the castle walls on the foundations of a ruined Roman temple.  The church had a turbulent history: destroyed in 1640 during the Portuguese Castile war, burnt down in 1704 and then used by the French as a stable when they invaded. It was left in ruins until it was rebuilt in the 19th century. It now sits peacefully in the park, atop the hill, with a view of the surrounding countryside.

From the castle towers we plotted our walk down through the ancient quarter to Jardim do Paço, the Bishop’s Palace Garden, then ending our day at Sé Catedral de Castelo Branco.  From the hilltop we descended a long flight of shaded stairs to the Miradouro de São Gens.  This is a lovely, quiet spot with a water garden and benches.  During its construction in 1940s evidence of earlier civilizations living on the hill were unearthed and placards describing the finds are featured along the pathway.

We exited the park onto Rua do Mercado, the old merchant street that runs flatly across the midsection of the hill.  Unlike Alfama in Lisbon, there are no boutique shops or galleries along the lane; the area is strictly residential now.  The names of the narrow, cobbled lanes reflect the shops that once lined them: Rua dos Oleiros (potters,) Rua dos Peleteiros (pelters,) and Rua dos Lagares (wineries,) and they run steeply down the slope from Rua do Mercado to flatter ground around the Bishop’s Palace Garden and the newer 17th century part of town.  Wonderful examples of 15th century homes with carved stone door and window frames can be found in this area. But like Alfama, Albicastrenses still gather to talk to their neighbors in the streets and hang laundry from their windows.

Fine examples of Portuguese Calcada, mosaic stone sidewalks, can be seen in front of the Bishop’s Palace, now the Museu Francisco Tavares Proença Jr., which is famous for its collection of highly embroidered, ornate colcha, bedspreads, from the Castelo Branco area.  This traditional art has been unique to the region for over three-hundred years.  It is thought that the inspiration for these was brought back from the orient by Portuguese traders and that the local women self-taught themselves the technique. Needing to rest, we headed into a municipal park across from the Bishop’s Garden, where there was a small café that served good coffee and tasty sandwiches.

The Bishop’s Palace Garden is the crown jewel of Castelo Branco and even in mid-March when we visited was green and spectacular. Commissioned in the early 1700s by the Bishop of Guarda, D. João de Mendonça, it is one of Portugal’s best examples of baroque formal gardens.  The garden is divided into four distinct sections containing fragrant orange trees, azulejos tile murals, boxwood hedges, staircases, statuary, pools, and fountains all inter-connected via pathways. Of particular interest were the staircase of the Kings of Portugal that depicted in miniature the hated Monarchs of Spain, who for short periods ruled Portugal, and the delicate sprinkler fountains found in the pools that were unique to Portuguese formal gardens at the time.

Continuing our walk to the Sé Catedral de Castelo Branco we passed a tall, richly carved, stone road marker.  The Cross of Sao Joao, its fine Manueline details now heavily eroded by time, was sculpted in the 1500s to mark that there was a chapel devoted to Sao Joao nearby. Further along we passed an old defense tower that was renovated centuries earlier to become the town’s clock tower, Torre do Relógio, with its signature finely, pointed conical roof.

Just off the old square, Praça do Camões, we passed through an archway that was once one of the gates to the walled lower part of the town.  Above it was the first residence of the Guarda Bishops before their luxurious palace was built. Those versatile Templars, fortress and cathedral builders extrordinaire, are also credited with the construction the of Sé Catedral de Castelo Branco in the early 13th century.  The cathedral’s original footprint has been lost under centuries of expansion.  Today its simple exterior belies a richly decorated interior that features a gold-leaf altar and a beautiful baptismal font.

Exhausted after a long day of discovery, we took a taxi back uphill to our hotel for the evening. 

When we visited in early Spring, we had the town mostly to ourselves. There were only a handful of other tourists wandering the alleys and gardens with us.  As inexpensive as Lisbon was, meals are even more budget friendly in the countryside.  We highly recommend touring through the small villages and towns along the Portuguese frontier with Spain as a reprieve from the big cities of Lisbon, Coimbra and Porto. You’ll be pleasantly surprised.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Back Roads – Marvão to Monsanto: Discovering the Portuguese Frontier

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Watching a dreamy sunrise cast the day’s first light on the castle walls, we descended into a misty valley just awakening.  Sheep filled the road as a shepherd led his flock through a gate onto the steep slope below Castelo Marvão.  For how many centuries has this daily ritual been happening?  Layers of history abound along the remote Portuguese frontier with Spain, and visual remnants of it are around every twist in the lane.  At the foot of Marvão, the village of Portagem takes its name from an old toll bridge over the River Sever that was the entry point into Portugal for Jews expelled from Spain at the start of the Spanish Inquisition in 1492. If they couldn’t pay the toll they stayed in a refugee camp along the border.IMG_8356Monsanto, a village where the homes are built under, between or above gigantic boulders was our day’s main destination, 134 km (83 miles) away, leaving us plenty of time for whims.  And if we still had energy and gas, we’d do a quick border crossing into Spain, just because we were so close and have never been, before backtracking to spend the night in Castelo Branco.  Because it looked so beautiful and intriguing, we made a brief detour into the small town of Castelo de Vide, just a few miles from Marvão.IMG_8264This quaint village sits on a gently sloping hill with ancient lanes worthy of exploration that will have to wait until our return to the Alentejo region. It too has a castle, built in 1310 by the order of King Dom Dinis, but the city itself was not walled.  Just outside Castelo de Vide we spotted a small chapel sitting high on a ridge. “Oh, let’s go.” Seeing a small sign, we braked and did a quick U-turn which led us up a sharp set of switch backs through a forested landscape.  Parking under a canopy of old growth cork trees, we climbed a steep staircase to Ermida de Nossa Senhora da Penha and were rewarded with a spectacular view of Castelo de Vide and the surrounding countryside below as hawks soared above us. Far away to the southeast the silhouette of Castelo Marvão rode the horizon..We learned that the chapel was built in the early 16th century in commemoration of a miracle: Our Lady protected a shepherd from robbery by turning day into night on the mountain, thus foiling the plot. This miracle was witnessed by the villagers of Castelo de Vide far below, who then constructed this chapel upon the mountain.

A little farther down the road an ancient, intricately paved pathway called the Calçada Medieval crosses the way.  This footpath dates to the 12th century and is believed to follow an older Roman road that was the shortest walking distance between Castelo de Vide and Portalegre, 17.2km or 10.5 miles away.IMG_8299Huge rocks piled on top of each other resembled man-made megalithic monuments at the entrance to a quarry along our route.  The owner perhaps got his inspiration from the numerous megalithic sites in the Alentejo area.IMG_8434Monsanto rises abruptly from the surrounding plains like a newly emerging volcano breaking through the crust of the earth and spewing huge boulders the size of small cottages atop one another in its tumultuous birth.  This unique and dramatic landscape has provided shelter since the Early Stone Age, and inhabitants incorporated these huge rocks into their dwellings and animal shelters.  In 1165 King Afonso gave the pile of rocks to the Knights Templar with the decree to keep the reconquered city in Christian hands.  As the Templars did wherever they went, they quickly set about building a castle at the summit.  Today, like so many other small villages in Portugal the place is nearly deserted, its youth moving to Lisbon or across the European Union for better opportunities.  Restaurants, small inns, day trippers and retirees from the cold of northern Europe now fill the void.  We paced ourselves for the steep climb to the castle, stopping often to take photos or investigate a narrower lane that veered off to one side or the other.  Oddly, some brave locals would drive their cars up the exceedingly narrow, cobbled lane to get as close to their homes as possible, drop off their parcels and then back-up all the way downhill as there wasn’t any room to turn around. Amazingly, it appears they never scratched their cars.

Just before reaching the castle the ruins of Capela de São Miguel can be seen jutting above a low ridge.  This small chapel is surrounded by graves, all facing east, chiseled into the granite rock.  The lids to the tombs and the bodies inside are long gone, but the clearly human shape of these stone coffins is still visible.  There are many hiking options available at this point, so be sure to bring plenty of water.  Watching our footsteps, we slowly descended the hill back into town.  Returning to the village it was easier to spot a number of abandoned, dilapidated dwellings with collapsed roofs.  These are the remnants of Portugal’s antiquated inheritance laws, where nothing can be done with a property until all the beneficiaries agree. This results in homes slowly deteriorating until the roofs and walls collapse.  It’s sad to see a once charming stone home in ruins.

With the sun still high in the sky we decided to make our run to the border and set our feet in Spain, if only for a few minutes.  Set back from the main road, the spire of Idanha-a-Velha’s cathedral caught our attention.  The cathedral has been converted into a museum containing a large collection of Roman epigraphs, inscriptions in stone, found in the area, but unfortunately it was closed mid-week in March.  One of the oldest villages in Portugal with a recorded history that is dated to 16 AD, it has been occupied by Celts, Romans, Visigoths, and Arabs. In contrast with most other early towns in the region Idanha-a-Velha does not occupy any high ground for defense; its walls rise suddenly from flat terrain. Remnants of its wide defensive wall and a roman era bridge across the Rio Ponsul can still be walked on. The mortar-less stonework of the buildings here is admirable for its precision and beauty. Today it’s a charming backwater with the feel of a large fortified villa instead of a small town that once had a population in the thousands. The day we stopped, a woman hanging laundry to dry, an elderly gentleman sleeping on some stairs in the sun, taking his siesta, and storks building their nests were the only signs of life.

The hills flanking the road to Segura were covered with olive groves, their silver green leaves twirling in a light breeze, creating multiple shades of green undulating across the countryside like waves rushing onto a beach.  The modern Ponte Romana de Segura now crosses the Rio Erges, a tributary of the Tagus River, where a Roman bridge once stood.  We made it to Spain! And nobody gave a hoot, but us. As part of the European Union there was no border control post between the two countries. Hey, we’re old school and like those passport stamps.  We parked in Spain and walked back to the center of the span for photos by the plaque demarcating the border between the two countries with Segura sitting atop its hill in the background.

A bell tower and a small park with a panoramic view of the border now dominates the high ground in Segura, its castle battlements dismantled long ago and used to build other structures.  Only a pensioner with his dogs shared the view with us.  Twelve hundred people once called Segura home in its heyday in the 1950’s. Today, because it is so far away from everything, the village has a population that hovers around 100 souls.IMG_8675We arrived in Castelo Branco just in time to watch the sunset from the miradouro above the city.  Located just below the overlook, TRYP Colina Do Castelo Hotel was our home for two nights.  https://www.trypcolinacastelo.com/  Business style hotels aren’t our first choice for accommodations, but with its free parking and excellent location we were sold on it.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

Back Roads – Lisbon to Marvão

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“Set it to avoid toll roads?” “Yep.” And with that our mapping app committed us to back roads for our journey to the Portuguese frontier. The medieval hilltop citadel of Marvão,  located along the border with Spain, was our day’s destination.  We had just wrapped up a splendid month in Lisbon, but were looking forward to a fifteen-day road trip exploring the smaller villages of the Portuguese countryside, between Marvão to the east of Lisbon and Porto to the north.IMG_7889Leaving Lisbon behind, we crossed the graceful Vasco da Gama suspension bridge spanning the Tagus River.  Within minutes we entered a gently rolling landscape of cork, olive and chestnut orchards dotted with sheep grazing in the shade beneath the trees.  Along the roads, storks were building their nests atop powerline towers or the chimneys of abandoned houses.  These stunning birds, having just completed their seasonal migration north from Africa, are always a joy to watch and we interpreted their sighting as a sign of good fortune ahead.  Heads turned as we passed through small farming towns more used to seeing the twice daily bus or farm tractors rumbling along than unfamiliar tourists cruising through.  Each village, regardless of how small, had a café, which was the center of activity.  Short on atmosphere, they offered espresso or cappuccino, just as good as in Lisbon, along with a limited selection of sandwiches and pastries. 

Crossing the Ribeira de Seda on a high modern overpass, we spotted a large old stone bridge below.  The next exit led us down to Ponte de Vila Formosa, an impressive 2,000-year-old Roman bridge with six arches dating to the 1st century CE.  This 330-foot span was once a vital crossing on the Roman road linking Lisbon to Mérida, Spain.  Today it’s one of the best-preserved examples of Roman engineering remaining in Portugal.  Closer to Marvão is a one arch bridge built in 1494, and not nearly as elegant or substantial as the Ponte de Vila Formosa. We wondered how a royal carriage ever crossed it safely.IMG_6849Typically, we double the amount of time it’s suggested to get to our destination to account for coffee, lunch breaks and photo ops.  We drive, we stop, jump out for snaps, make U-turns and so on.  As the sun lowers in the afternoon sky, “We’ll never get there if you stop every 100 yards to take pictures!” is often voiced from the navigator’s seat.

A serpentine road twisted up the side of the 3,000-foot-tall butte, occasionally offering a glimpse of our formidable destination high above.  Driving through the slender entrance gate, the portal narrowed to the point where we had to pull the mirrors in.  It seemed the further we drove uphill the farther time receded. By the time we reached the summit of the walled village and checked in at Dom Dinis, a small boutique hotel, the golden hour was in full glory and bathed the countryside in a warm glow.IMG_8053The cold wind chilled us to our bones, but we found warmth by the fireplace in the tavern across from our inn.  After dinner, as we stood on the ramparts behind our hotel, the darkness offered us a view of the stunning star-filled sky above and the twinkle of village lights far below.  With a stiff breeze in our faces, we felt like we were flying. The glorious sunrise the next morning cast a beautiful light on the panoramic view of the flat plains that run all the way into Spain, while the rugged mountains and valleys to the west stayed covered in an early morning mist. 

Marvão was important as a strategic stronghold since the ninth century, when the Moors first possessed it, and subsequently improved and expanded upon it over the centuries when the Kings of Portugal controlled it.  The fortress was sacked and retaken many times over the years. Today after extensive restoration it’s possible to walk all the way around the lower town atop the ramparts that encircle it. The castle walls jut from the steep sides of this granite monolith, like the bow of a ship breaking a huge wave.  Within its battlements, storage rooms and an impressively large rainwater cistern helped sustain the town folks when under siege.  As the last line of defense, the entrance to the castle’s tall keep was high above the courtyard and accessible only by crossing a gang plank which was drawn inside for security. 

Outside the castle, the hilltop village is wonderful to wander around. It reveals formal garden, narrow lanes and arched passageways that lead to whitewashed houses with decorative, Manueline windows, wrought iron balconies, ancient doors and red tiled roofs. 

One of the town’s old churches, Igreja de Santa Maria, has been converted into a civic museum with interesting displays explaining the history of the area. 

Fortunately, in 2017 Marvão requested to be removed from the UNESCO tentative site list, so it isn’t on the bucket list of busloads of day tourists from Lisbon.  At one time Marvão was home to 3,000 residents, but today there are fewer than one hundred full time residents living within its walls. We had the village practically to ourselves in mid-March.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

 

San Pedro la Laguna on Lake Atitlan – The Road Was Un-named

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img_1653The scenery along the drive to Lake Atitlan, along roads that continued to climb higher, was spectacular with verdant greenery and distant volcanos appearing then disappearing again with each twist of the serpentine route. img_1668Arriving in San Pedro we thought we were on a movie set for a sequel to Mad Max or Water World.  Down by the Panajachel dock dreadlocked travelers, wearing eccentric attire, filled the streets along the lakeshore.  Feeling as if we had time traveled, we were relieved to find our Airbnb far out of town on a dead-end road that ran along the lake.  According to Google maps the road was unnamed.  Our host said “tell the tuktuk drivers you are staying on Calle Finca,” which referred to a distant and abandoned coffee farm, about an hour’s walk from the trail head at the end of the road.img_0540-2Our new home for our last week in Guatemala had a wonderful porch with great view of Lake Atitlan and tranquility.  A relaxing change of pace was called for after the Christmas and New Year’s Day celebrations in Antigua.  Bird calls or the soft Mayan chatter of coffee pickers, harvesting ripe beans right outside our door, were the only sounds that filled the air.  Fortunately, we were much closer to town than the abandoned coffee finca and were able to walk to the daily outdoor market, along streets where we could see women washing clothing in the distant lake, and make-shift scales were set up to buy coffee beans hauled down from the slopes of Volcan San Pedro.

As we neared the market the streets became steeper than those in San Francisco, CA.  Every morning vendors set up vegetable, poultry, meat, flower and used clothing stands.  The fish monger displayed freshly caught fish, pulled from Lake Atitlan earlier in the morning, still flapping in baskets along the edge of the road.  And multiple varieties of avocadoes were available to satisfy our cravings for them.  San Pedro lacked a proper super market, so if we wanted meat or chicken, we had to purchase it here.  The key to buying meat or poultry was to go first thing in the morning, before the heat of the day and most importantly before the flies started to stir.  Shopping this way, we did not have any issues with the meat, poultry or vegetables we bought.  There were several small panaderias in the blocks around the market that had great baked goods. We rounded out our pantry with fresh eggs, yogurt and coffee from the farmer next door to us.  Large numbers of tourists didn’t seem to venture up the steep streets of San Pedro away from the waterfront, which was filled with coffee cafes, art galleries, hostels, restaurants, and bars.

Aside from researching an affordable and charming place to stay on Lake Atitlan we didn’t know much about San Pedro La Laguna itself.  Fortunately, we were able to reach out to one of our Instagram followers who does medical missions to the area several times a year. Cathy was right on with her coffee and dining recommendations.  Straight uphill from the Panajachel ferry dock, Luis at Cafe Las Cristalinas brewed a great cup of coffee and served wonderful empanadas, among other delights as promised.  On the street that follows the shoreline, La Terraza Coffee Shop & Kitchen offered a quiet respite and a wonderful view of Indian Nose mountain towering over the village of San Juan, just across the lake.  Closer to the Santiago Atitlan ferry dock at Restaurant Idea Connection we enjoyed their Italian menu and coconut macaroons, outside in the garden. The brunch offered on Saturdays and Sundays at El Barrio can’t be missed if you are in San Pedro over a weekend.  Plan on eating only one meal the day you choose to go, so that you can fully enjoy their incredible and very affordable four course brunch.  Smokin Joe’s BBQ has a store on this side of town which sells local and imported meats, all vacuum sealed and frozen.  We were impressed with their selection.img_0767A short ferry ride took us to San Juan La Laguna, a weavers and artists village that visually celebrates its Mayan heritage with colorful street murals.  The steep walk uphill from the boat dock to the center of town was lined with art galleries.

The streets at the top of the hill of were full of various weaver’s cooperatives that use locally grown cotton, wool or bamboo and only natural dyes.  Here we serendipitously stumbled across the Casa Flor Ixcaco, the first weaver’s cooperative in San Juan, founded in 1996 with only five members.  Today more than 100 women support their families through this weaving cooperative.  The variety of designs created on backstrap looms and the color range they created from natural dyes was amazing.   The question here was “what not to buy?” because everything was so beautiful.img_0864Six years ago, when we first visited the lake, we stayed at Posada de Santiago in Santiago de Atitlan and met Carolina, an American expat who has been in Guatemala going on thirty years now.  We’ve stayed in touch over the years.  Being so close by, a reunion was in order.IMG_1019It’s a long ferry ride to Santiago de Atitlan and even longer when the wind churns up whitecaps on the water, and the small boat we were in rocked side-to-side for the duration of the crossing.  We silently said our prayers when the local folks stated to reach for the life preservers.  Fortunately, we were never too far from shore and know how to swim.  It is a breathtaking view coming into the boat dock at Santiago with its namesake volcano towering over the town and Volcan San Pedro just an avocado toss away, across the water.

The waterfront seemed the same with kids swimming and women doing laundry in the lake, but the walk up to the tuktuks overwhelmed with craft stands and vendors calling out their sales pitch.  Lunch was as delicous as we remembered at Posada de Atitlan and as wonderfully lively as we anticipated with Carolina.  Very interesting embroidery art by the late artist Antonio Ramirez Sosóf hung on display in the restaurant. These are truly amazing pieces of cultural art that were all delicately hand stitched and depicted indigenous and Mayan culture around the lake.img_0669Enjoying the stars from our porch we were surprised when fireworks celebrating Epiphany lit up the night sky above villages across the lake, their colorful bursts reflected brilliantly on the water.  With magical moments like this, still fresh in our memories, Guatemala tugged at our hearts as we packed for our next adventure.

Till next time,

Craig & Donna

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The Best Trip Ever

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Our friends have asked frequently, “What’s been your best holiday?” and now Yellow Zebra Safari is asking the same question.  For a chance to win a Tanzanian Safari, they are asking entrants to write a travelblog about their best trip ever and submit it by October 31st.

My best trip ever has to be the one we are currently on.  Roughly two years ago, out of the clear blue, one evening my wife floated the idea that she was thinking of retiring soon. I had been downsized several years earlier and had found a second career as a USPS mailman, delivering junk mail and mountains of Amazon packages through terrible weather, while deftly avoiding ferocious Pomeranians.  The idea struck home. Okay! But, what would we do?

As a pair of seasoned citizens, we are not the typical demographic for a gap year/round the world trip, though our community is growing. We sold most of our belongings, put the rest into storage and hit the road. I write this from Olon, Ecuador, where we are practicing slow travel, a two-year journey around the world with the best travel partner, my wife.IMG_7856IMG_7404We’ve been on the road for more than 100 days now; previously, our longest trip was just shy of three weeks, with carry-on luggage only.  So, we felt fully prepared to tackle this challenge (insert wink here.)  Needless to say, there is a learning curve, but we have the right mind set.  In late October, we move north to Guatemala, followed by a cruise to Cuba. The first part of 2019 will see us in Europe, and after that, who knows? We’ve discussed heading to South Africa, then working our way north and through East Africa, trying to have as many big game safari experiences as possible.  This has been a dream of mine since I unwrapped my first National Geographic magazine and was enthralled by the spectacular images of the great migration across the Serengeti.  Winning this Tanzanian Safari experience by Yellow Zebra Safari would make this dream a reality.

Our earlier adventures have prepped us for mishaps. At a filling station in France, I put gasoline into the rental car’s diesel engine; in Italy, we were trapped in a parking area when our token would not raise the automatic exit gate; we have experienced canceled flights and missed connections which resulted in airport overnights on hard floors.  Trips to Peru, Mexico, Guatemala, Fiji, Turkey and Morocco have broadened our perspective; we view the world as global citizens, and take seriously our responsibilities as travelers and stewards of the planet.

“Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindedness, and many of our people need it sorely on these accounts. Broad, wholesome, charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.”

The first sentence of this quote from Mark Twain is the one most widely known.  We think the second line is more relevant today, since we really do share commonality with people the world over.

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We are currently in the midst of our best holiday ever, a life changing/lifestyle change that will create lasting memories.

Great adventures to all,

Craig

One Hundred Days on the Road

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Time has passed so quickly, with our days full of adventure and exploring, and it is difficult to believe we’ve been away from home for one hundred days already.  The month of July was spent driving down the East Coast of the US, visiting friends and family and having a great time. Our first three weeks in Ecuador were packed with activity.  Quito, the Galapagos Islands and driving south to Cuenca along the Pan-American Highway, also known as the Avenue of the Volcanoes, filled our itinerary.

Arriving in Cuenca, we set up home for five weeks in a lovely studio apartment, for under $500 per month, that had a large rooftop deck with tremendous views over the Rio Tomebamba. We immersed ourselves in the neighborhood; it was a delight to shop in the city’s central market for exotic fruits, (pitacaya is our favorite,) from the Amazon region, plentiful and pricey, or for locally grown vegetables which were so inexpensive.  Every city block seemed to have multiple panaderias, bakeries, that offered extremely inexpensive and delicous baked goods. A dozen roses usually cost four dollars. Alternately, a large, American style supermarket had prices that rivaled those around our old home in Pennsylvania.  Cuenca was full of the ubiquitous yellow taxis.  For under two dollars we could travel to the far reaches of this sprawling city.

Adapting to our surroundings in a new country, we noticed that the sun sets quickly here with practically no twilight period. We are also adjusting to the concept of long-term travel and retirement itself – what our expectations should be on a daily basis.  24/7 together is a new concept for a previously working couple. We have often asked each other which day of the week it is.  Every day does not need to be nor can it be an adventure.  We enjoyed chilling on the rooftop, reading and writing.  Alternately, we wandered through different parts of the city taking advantage of the many free public museums scattered about.

The dining out options in Cuenca covered the full spectrum from mom and pop holes-in-the-wall offering the plate of the day, plata del dia, where for $3.50 you received a very good three course lunch, to fine gourmet dining that reasonably ran about $50.00 for two with wine, dessert and coffee in a beautiful restaurant.IMG_5271One of our favorite snacks was Tortilla de Choclo, eighty cents, a corn pancake that was grilled on a large ceramic plate, curbside, as you waited.  Often, coffee and dessert cost more than lunch itself.

There were some difficulties with our new environment.  Mainly we had trouble acclimating to Cuenca’s 8,500ft altitude.  This was surprising because we spent the better part of two weeks driving through the Andes Mountain Range at heights exceeding 10,000ft and surely thought Cuenca’s setting would be easier on us.  Donna required a visit to the emergency room of a local private hospital one Sunday morning after feeling dizzy for too long.  After checking that her vitals were okay the doctor wrote a prescription for Dramamine to treat the effects of altitude sickness.  A week’s supply of the drug cost $2.40. Our forty-five minutes in the emergency room cost thirty-two dollars.

A long weekend, a vacation from our vacation, took us to Vilcabamba, a small town in Ecuador’s southern Andes.  A reputation as “the valley of longevity,” with mineral rich mountain water and crisp air, has attracted a diverse international expat population of aging hippies.  It was ten degrees warmer there, which was a nice reprieve from the chilly days and nights in Cuenca.  At Hosteria Izhcayluma, a wonderful and very affordable eco-lodge/spa, we indulged in deep tissue massages that lasted for ninety minutes and cost all of $24.00 each.  Feeling adventurous I chose to go on what I thought would be a leisurely five-hour horseback ride through the surrounding mountains.  The brochure advertised “gallop with our horses.” Thinking this was hyperbole I signed on.  From the moment we all mounted our horses we galloped out of the stables, through Vilcabamba, into the mountains and back.  I walked liked a saddle-sore cowboy for a week after that.IMG_4354-2One of the reasons we chose Cuenca for our first short term rental was so that I could take advantage of their dental tourism offerings. I had put off getting things done in the states because of what I thought were excessive cost, even with insurance.  I am extremely pleased with the dental care that I received at Finding Health in Ecuador. Tooth extraction – $35.00, cavity – $25.00, two-tooth bridge – $250.00.  Our premise that we could live abroad more economically than living back in the states is so far holding true.IMG_8596-2Currently we are in Olon, a rustic beach town on Ecuador’s southern Pacific coast with a wide, flat sandy beach that stretches for nearly five miles without a high-rise to been seen. It’s off season, mostly cloudy, but the water is still warm, perfect conditions for the handful of surfers and us.  Fishermen still launch skiffs through the surf from the beach, and fathers can be seen taking their kids to school on the handlebars of their motorcycles, gently splashing through the incoming tide.  Our rent for the month of October is $730.00 with breakfast included!

By ten o’clock each evening the streets are empty.  From our apartment at night we can hear the waves crashing onto the beach, along with roosters crowing – they start at one in the morning, seemingly on a campaign to discourage tourism – and dogs barking to each other. There is no traffic in this tiny four block square village.  Everyone walks in the middle of the road, roosters, dogs and cats included.  Every day pushcart vendors wheel their offerings of fruit, eggs, cheese, clothing, kitchen supplies, etc. through town, each peddler singing out a different sales pitch.

For a change of scenery, we took a day cruise out of Puerto Lopez to Isla de la Plata, an uninhabited island which is part of Machalilla National Park.  It is also referred to as the “budget Galapagos.”  Fifty dollars per person included shuttle transportation, boat ride, snorkeling gear, lunch, a three-hour hike with a licensed guide to view nesting birds and most importantly the chance to see humpback whales.

At the outdoor fish market, two kilos of fresh large shrimp set us back six dollars.  Several doors down at a little house with the barbeque out front, two plates of fresh grilled fish with a beer cost five dollars for dinner.  For a tiny place, this village has a surprising number of eateries, most of them created by northern European surfers who fell in love with the waves here and never left. Cotinga’s might be the only restaurant in Ecuador where you can get home-made borscht, prepared by Olga a Russian expat.

The only thing Olon really needs is a French inspired chef whose specialty is Coq au Vin.  Roosters, you’ve been warned!