we holidayed as well

We dined with my new neighbours, spent a morning browsing an antiques and collectibles fair, had a mini trip to Spain through the Pyrenees to stock up on cheap wine and food with a tapas lunch.  A night back at Chalet Lou Rider courtesy of my friend Pierre who is now caretaker for the new owners, with a gentle stroll in the mountains where we picnicked and enjoyed a stupendous view in the sunshine. 

As Peter leaves, the major build is complete, leaving me roof insulation to figure out a few bits of trim and then the instillation of woodburning stove.  All projects that I can attack on my own.  It’s been brilliant to have him here to help, we’ve got on fabulously, as ever and enjoyed getting things done.  Dad too has kept us on the ball, helping as much as he could and adding his suggestions and advice throughout the build.  It’s been great having them here and after the initial shock everything went wonderfully well, Dad taking everything in his stride.  What an excellent ten days.

visitors

It all worked out rather well.  For sleeping arrangements Dad took the bed in the tent, Peter joined me in Percy.  I continued with my meals as planned to compliments from all sides, I quite surprised myself with how tasty and interesting some of the meals were, my exploration of sprouted seeds was in full swing and the garden had started to provide quite bountifully.  Cucumbers, courgettes, green and yellow beans, spinach, swiss chard, the occasional beetroot leaves, lettuce, nasturtium leaves and flowers, even a few tomatoes - despite the blight, all made their way to the table.  A few plums remained on one of the trees after a ferocious storm and a neighbour kindly offered me a bag of Mirabelle, a tiny plum like fruit the size of a cherry, sweet and juicy, we ate them whole, spitting the tiny stones out wherever.  Perhaps I should have planted them, maybe next year when life is a little more organised.

I supplemented garden supplies with frequent trips to the local markets, a good opportunity to get out and about to see the surroundings and show off the area that I have decided to make my home for the forseeable future.  Both were suitable impressed even though the weather was unseasonable cold and cloudy.  The old folk of the village can’t recall a summer so cold or wet in living memory, usually by now the fields and lawns are parched and brown and the gardens watered every day.  I haven’t touched my hosepipe in over three weeks and the countryside is as lush and green as Devon or west Wales would be at this time of year.  

My guests and I experienced an impressive storm one night.  The wind howled, the rain came lashing down, the trees thrashing about and the van rocking violently for several hours.  Life in the tent was reportedly noisy to say the least with rain, twigs and leaves falling on the canvas and the wind billowing and buffeting the structure.  In the morning Dad emerged from his internal cocoon unscathed, the weather calmed and we continued none the worse.  Two neighbours appeared during the morning, concerned that we had been blown away and offering alternative accommodation should it be required.

surprise visit

I arrived at Toulouse early to do some shopping and do a bit of scavanging.  I needed pallets to sort the wood for the new build onto and to keep it dry whilst it was being built.  I was lucky and fair filled the van with nearly as many as I could, something stopped me from filling the back completely, though I was close to doing so.  I reached the airport to collect Peter in good time, the plane was slightly delayed, so I had time to park up and go inside to meet him.  He was waiting for his luggage and suggested that he catch up with me in the car park so as to minimise the time that I waited.  As he was arranging his luggage in the back of the van I prepared to head off, conscious that I was in a limited parking zone and every minute counted.  As he started to close the door, a voice asked “Room for another one?”  I swung round to see who it was, half recognising the voice, to see my Dad standing there with a big grin on his face.  Momentarily I was mortified.  How was it going to work?  Where was he going to sleep?  How was he going to cope with my minimal lifestyle?  (No electricity, no hot water, no proper toilet, no real facilities?) I was stressed enough as it was with the preparations for receiving my brother, let alone an 85 year old.  I forced the practicalities and logistics out of my mind and focussed on the fact that my father was there, completely unannounced and it was wonderful to see him.  I had planned to be a bit further on before he visited, but from that moment I had no choice, he was there and was coming with us.  I was dumbstruck as we left the airport, trying to make conversation, whilst my mind raced on what changes I would have to make and wondering how the next ten days were to pan out. My neighbours had offered a room. There was a B & B just down the road, I wondered if they had a room and how much it would cost.  What would my Dad do every day?  Would I have chance to really spend time with my brother?  Would he be comfortable? warm enough? cool enough? How would my alternative (nearing vegan) diet be appreciated? Would he manage with the terrain? Could we still manage the trips I had planned?  My mind whirred with a thousand questions whilst on the surface I tried to chat about the journey, how the flight was, and what had been going on since we had last spoken.

Peter sat in the back, almost squashed by pallets, relishing every moment.  I had surprised him several times in the past with unannounced visits and this was payback time.  There he was, in view via the rear view mirror, watching as I came to terms with this new arrangement finding it all rather amusing.  I negotiated the urban motorway system out of Toulouse without fault, my mind going nineteen to the dozen, pointing out things that might be interesting, trying to plan ahead, deciding what to do.  We journeyed back to Vieuzos stopping en route to do a bit of last minute shopping, disappointingly there was no view of the mountains, just a band of hazy cloud in the distance.  They had no idea how spectacular that view could be.  Something they would hopefully discover on a clearer day.

memories of portugal

I couldn't capture the brilliant, star filled night skies

or the absolute silence of the valley

but these are a few of the views that I did....

sunset from the hills

a whole ear of corn sprouting after a shower of rain

container gardening with a difference

the local village to my brothers house

Me, Dad and Windy (Peter)

the river beach at Açor

reflections

quinta libelula

Still, we got there in the day.  I had sent a text to say we were on our way in and as we arrived, stopped to send another, Peter emerged in his 4x4, ready for the ride down his newly installed track to the house.  It was a good twenty minutes by foot before.  Luxury of a different kind.

I had tried to prepare Joy for our visit, but after a tour of the property, realised that I had not done a very good job. It was on steeper terrain, with more precipitous drops off narrow, uneven paths, more basically equipped, far more remote, with high unfenced terraces (some easily 8 metres) about the place.  She did amazingly well and later, after talking with my brother, discovered that NO ONE who has visited has embraced the spirit of the place without at least a day or so acclimatisation.  It is steep, uneven, almost inaccessible in a beautifully forested valley with no neighbours, only the noise of the birds and trickle of water in the stream, sheltered from winds from most directions, incredibly still and tranquil.  The little house has solar electricity and a solar heated shower, a fully functioning compost toilet, the freshest spring water piped direct to the kitchen, a functional terrace with tables and chairs, a beautiful view over one of the vegetable gardens, olive grove, forest and valley.  

The ground is being progressively cleared and I was amazed by the progress that had been made since my last visit a year ago.  We could walk from one end of the property to the other at valley floor level, via seven terraces of varying sizes.  The ancient irrigation system and much of the flat areas have been completely cleared of impenetrable bramble thicket, revealing more and more olive trees, ancient vines and other fruit trees.  A magnificent cork oak that had lain unnoticed for decades revealed in all its splendor.  Two terraces of vegetables planted harvested and restarted for the winter, chickens, goats and even a trout have arrived during the last twelve months.  The house has been re-roofed and re-floored inside and the upstairs is completely livable until the rest gets done.  

Whilst I was there, Dad visited for a couple of weeks.  We were all rather concerned with how he would cope before his arrival, especially after hearing stories of others that have visited, even for short periods of time. We needn’t have worried, he managed admirable and frequently surprised himself with his achievements on the exploratory front.  He coped with the vegetarian diet with easily and went home with renewed vigour and a determination to get out and do more, get a rail card, visit friends and places he’s never seen.  I sure hope he does.

my bedroom for a month 

4x4 on the new track with house roof visible to the left 

the yellow brick road, I built that

unlikely best mates

new improved 'facilities'

trying to get things into scale

newly cleared access to opposite gives new perspective

Dad and Windy surveying the latest clearing work "Goat terrace"

vegetables in for the winter

quinta libelula

Back in the modern world.  I left from Nic’s, where I have stayed before, four weeks ago tomorrow.  I have had three very interesting weeks away followed, almost immediately by a social weekend, partying and supporting Nic’s rugby team in Toulouse (great fun) and a couple of days working here at the tower, catching up with emails and organising my next couple of months.  That done, I can now concentrate on writing some more.

Nic lives a stones throw from Rodez International Airport, it is tiny and has maybe a dozen destinations, one of which is a summer Ryanair flight to Porto, that is why I am here, I got a cheap return flight to see my bro and the opportunity to spend time with a great friend too.  

I arrived in Porto late in the evening and found a great little hostel to stay overnight.  The following morning I discovered that, not only was it a national public holiday, but there was a train strike and nothing was running.  Thankfully I managed to get an afternoon coach to our rendez vous in Coimbra and spent a bonus morning wondering the streets of Porto in the sunshine.  I didn’t take a map or have any idea of where I was going, but the city is beautiful and I shall enjoy exploring more next time I visit.

Quinta Libelula is a hidden oasis nestling in a tranquil wooded valley, high in the hills of central Portugal, away from the bright lights  and bustle of modern life, where even the sound of a distant car is an infrequent disturbance.  The property, abandoned for many years was once a flourishing farm, producing maize and vegetables for the local villages and an important employer in the immediate area.  Massive early investment in terracing, dams and a complex series of irrigation channels has left lasting marks on the landscape in the form of beautiful stone walls, cool ponds and a series of near flat, fertile gardens that rise up the valley floor, bordered on either side by steep wooded slopes that clothe its steep sides.  A stunning schist farmhouse can be found at the lower end of the property, roofed partly in the traditional stone manner, complete with wood fired bread oven and impressive views both up and down the valley.

I could go on, and it’s all true, but reality, for the moment is in need of encouragement.  The house is a shell, in need of re-roofing, insulation, doors and windows to keep out the draughts (yes, it’s freezing there in the winter) a new floor, a kitchen, bathroom and a few modern comforts.  Windy and Michael are, for the moment camping out on a forestry track, high above the property and walking in every day down a steep woodland track.  There is no vehicular access, this was started whilst I visited and should hopefully be completed by now.  Only then can renovations easily start on the house.  It would be possible to carry everything in, but hardly practical and a huge challenge, especially as a track was always on the cards.  Camping, I can imagine was great fun during the summer and continued to be for the first few days of my visit, but when the weather changed to torrential rain storms and a nighttime high of 8 degrees, my little tent became a haven against the elements.  The boys faired better in their caravan and awning with the four dogs but without decent heating once everything is damp and cold it stays damp and cold until the sun shines again.  Thankfully the weather remained changeable throughout my visit and I got to see a good deal of sun between the inclement days.

Whilst waiting for the track to be installed the boys have made huge progress in rediscovering their hidden oasis.  From impenetrable bramble, scrub and sapling thicket, often ten to twelve feet high or more, they have cleared extraordinary areas of land, finding no end of surprises along the way.  Beautiful stone walls, some with inbuilt steps, water channels and ponds filled to the brim with silt.  Vines, once well trained that now cover huge areas  strangling trees and blocking out the light, olive orchards that, due to a late frost or some other spring phenomenon have not set fruit this season.  I guess next spring will be the telling time to see if they are productive or not. They have gone so far with initial clearing and have enough space to keep them busy for the next couple of years.  At my estimation they have cleared about half the terraced land and have done nothing to maintain any of their hillside forest, a project that will take many years, if ever to complete.

One of the water reservoirs had already been cleared and was an excellent place to bathe, if a tad cold at times, the second, much larger one was being debrambled when I arrived and we spend probably two solid weeks digging silt and debris from its depths.  Measuring six metres by six, with a sloping depth from nothing down to a good two metres in the centre, this pond is high enough to provide the house with a huge volume of water once it is plumbed, providing that it fills through the winter.  It may need some remedial filling as the mortar has decayed somewhat and several trees had grown up from within.  It was a good project, especially on the cooler days but as time went on, decided that my skills were probably better put to use on more creative projects.

We visited a local nursery to pick up a few fruit trees.  It turned out to be a colossal establishment producing a huge range of plants and was billed as the biggest commercial camellia nursery en europe.  The black shade netting tents stretched up and down the valley for miles.  We got some great trees and the guys will head back in late November to benefit from the new season bare root stock once a bit more land has been prepared.  Thinking a trip back once I have found my land to stock an orchard as the prices were more than reasonable.

I spent a morning digging over a corner of one of the terraces and replanted some of the seedlings that Michael had put in earlier.  They were doing well but as the season progressed it was obvious that they weren’t getting much sun and the newly cleared area was a way better option for winter progress.  Advice at the local market had me planting cabbages and purple sprouting, leeks and chard for cropping this winter, overwintering onions and garlic for next summer.  By the time I left, they were all growing well and the cabbages had doubled in size.  One can only imagine how fast things will grow in the summer in the sunshine with all that water available.  I only hope that the whole irrigation system can be explained by someone before it is too late.

the temporary encampment

getting the veg planted

my brother's new abode

perched above an olive grove

rediscovering the old irrigation system, the back wall is over 7 metres high

errant grapevines now festoon the trees

evening inspection of the works.  the new track which will allow

vehicular access to the house

getting the fences in for the luxury chicken run 25m x 20m

solar hot water, my second construction this summer

My poor brother doesn’t do well in the cold, or being dirty for that matter and frequently moaned about the useless camping showers they were putting out in the sun in the hope of some warm water of an evening.  I got a thinking of previous projects and places that do so much better than that and in the final days before I left, created a sturdier, larger and hopefully more efficient solar hot water system.  Unfortunately it was mainly overcast on the day I got it running but I did manage to get a pre travel dip in a very cold pond followed by a less cold rinse from the newly installed system, I can’t have smelled too bad as I got an invite to stay from the passengers that I sat next to on the flight back to france.  Still waiting for news of how well it fares after a day of sunshine, I have my fingers crossed.

unexpected detour

I said good bye to my hosts last Wednesday, and to Julien and Vivien too.  It is definitely the end of any project together, the three thing was just too difficult, though I would be more than happy if Julien were to end up with a plot of land next to mine.  One of my most enjoyable and eye opening visits of my journey so far.  So many things achieved, so many things possible, with an open heart and a sense of sharing and participation for everyone who visits, what a great place.  I am sad to leave.

Though on what an adventure.  My brother has been hankering for me to visit him since he moved earlier this summer, though I have declined, believing that his new life is his project and he should decide what route he needs to take.  He had a dramatic journey by car from the Midlands to his new home, with break-downs causing his journey to take over two  weeks rather than the 48 hours originally planned, though that is another story.  

He moved to Portugal earlier this year, to a large plot of land in which stands a ruin and the remnants of some very productive horticultural land.  I am aching to visit to see what he has bought with his partner MIchael and am already desparately telling myself not to get too involved.  I know that they have a list a million questions long for me and I can’t wait to hear their stories, see the land and stay with them in their tiny caravan and help out for the next three weeks.  There is no phone, no WIFI, no electricity or running water, it’s back to basics and from all accounts, so far, they are loving every moment of their new life.  Watch this space for what I discover, as I shall update you when I return to the modern world.