Portugal, Spain, France, Portugal

Part Two of Journey to the End of the Noise

We drove straight into a depression. After a few hours, I thought: “What nostalgia, a road trip like this, we should do that more often.” Things turned out a bit differently. On that mountain (last week’s cliffhanger), the aforementioned depression suddenly schlepped itself over the peak in the form of dark, creeping clouds, so that I had to speed down the mountain with my hoodie on, because it was turning into a serious downpour.

On Cousin Bart’s mountain, the weather is even more unpredictable than anywhere else

You can’t see the big picture, you can’t see the rain clouds coming. And camping is quite a hassle in the rain, sorry to say. Even though I have a pretty big van with a proper bed, it’s not the cubic meters you normally have around you. Plus everything you have at home, but not in that van (you then find out).

Anyway, Cousin Bart is doing pretty well – they also have quite a bit of cubic metres in- and outdoors, but what’s most beautiful there is the silence. They’ve been there for a few years now, and it reminds me a lot of our early days. You’re happy with everything, especially because you feel blessed to be living your dream.

Making dreams come true is absolutely fantastic, but not always all the time. You also have to go through a bit of a depression, a setback, a little bit of a hell here & there, overcome a few bumps. That’s no problem for Bart, because he has his Esther, and Esther has her Bart, so that’s incredibly energizing. Especially when you meet in middle age, because then you truly understand what love is worth.

Nevertheless, it’s a lot of work to make your dreams come true

And sometimes you have to go through a depression. I remember that now. I’m literally going through it. My little dream now was: I’ll visit cousin Bart, fun, cozy time with my sister and brother-in-law together, I’ll see that beautiful place they have, I’ll meet Esther (that hadn’t happened yet), and I’ll take my time going home. Meandering along all sorts of idyllic roads, a stop at a beautiful church, a chat with a friendly innkeeper who serves a delicious cup of coffee…

Hahaha. That dream turns out to be quite true for Bart and Esther in the Pyrenees, because there is indeed a beautiful church there, where we even got to attend a lovely concert. The friendly innkeeper at the campsite pours a lovely glass of wine; and it’s quiet there. Just reflect on that for a moment.

It’s quiet.

I t’s hard to let you hear that, because that means you hear nothing except the subtle breeze through the branches, the occasional bird or a falling twig. Or you hear the water rippling down the mountain. You can, however, enjoy a bit of the concert, because the acoustics in such a medieval church are quite special.

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In the thin, pure mountain air, the silence is like walking through crystal

It smells wonderful; your ears, eyes, and nerves are completely at peace. I walk the last stretch to their house, because the path isn’t quite perfect yet—and my lovely dog Mira and I certainly appreciate a walk.

“What a blessing, that silence,” I think, enjoying the sun shining through the trees, the stream I have to cross twice (two centimeters of water with stepping stones in between), and the faint sound of the crystal church bell in the valley. Bart and Esther organize retreats and hikes—yes, you get it, that’s what this area demands. It sounds like a great way to get away from everything all those people around you do every day, and in which you yourself are fully participating.

A step back in time. No noise, no fuss, the basics are taken care of, and they cook delicious meals for you. Fantastic! Click through if you have nerves that need to be soothed by the silence and the mountain air. And/or if you enjoy being around people who are realizing their dreams, because that gives a certain kind of energy and enthusiasm that acts as a balm or perhaps even a catalyst. (If you perhaps harbor a dream yourself.)

After two days, we’re moving on

Duty calls. Besides, there’s a plan to finally go and see the little marina of Orio, where the Red Van with the family always passes on its way to the Termas. Then we’ll go around the Pyrenees on the other side, because they’re quite in the way.

The reality of my dream come true now comes down to a gray, dreary, windy place UNDER the highway. Beg pardon!? Yes, under the highway, how dare they create a camper van site right here! We can just about fit in, it’s full too. “What have these people done wrong in their lives that they’re punishing themselves like this?” I ask my sister, but well …. we’re here too… so what exactly went wrong?

I’m going to leave you hanging again, dear readers, this time not a cliff- but a Highway-Hanger. Next week, about how it all turned out well. Because, of course, it always does.

(Disclaimer: I’m a bit tired of the keyword stuff and Google’s dictatorship. So here they are, and I’m also hoping for the cleverness of AI in this matter that it will still be found and read, but that I don’t have to force myself to use the right terms in the title and headings. #dreamscometrue #parkinglot #highway #holidayFrance #holidaySpain #holidayPortugal)

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We moved here in 2000 from Rotterdam, the Netherlands, to the Termas-da-Azenha, Portugal.

We started to rebuild one of portugals cultural heirlooms: Termas-da-Azenha, an old spa.

You’ll find mosaics and paintings everywhere.

Since Covid we rent the houses for a longer period of time, not as holiday houses anymore.

Each week a little blog about what is happening around us. An easy read. A few minutes in another world. A little about what it going on in Portugal. If you plan your holiday to Portugal, it might be a nice preparation.

In the weekend we publish it on Bluesky, Facebook, Pinterest and Instagram.