False Start in Monsanto

I almost didn’t go. I had missed my perfectly calculated departure time by a full hour. The whole trip was essentially ruined — obviously.

That’s how my special flavour of perfectionism works. If it doesn’t go right, you might as well throw it all away.

Luckily I managed to resist my temptation to call the whole thing off and rejigged my plans.

Instead of working in the early hours of the morning, I would work in the evening when I got to my first stop and explore my first stop in the early morning.

With that plan in motion, it meant that a miracle happened today folks — Olivia took the day off.

My first stop? A charming little village called Monsanto on the eastern border of Portugal. As I drove through the stately boulders and passed moss covered houses, I was transported to another world. This is when it hit me that it’s all really happening.

Travelling in low season has its pros and cons. The biggest con is that it’s colder than any human should bear on holiday. My fingers and toes lost feeling within five minutes of walking around. But I’d never been so happy to lose feeling in my outer extremities. The beauty of the place kept my heart warm and that’s what truly mattered.

The pro of travelling in low season is that you’re on your own. Frost laced the inactive parking metres. The cobbled lanes echoed my footsteps. And there was no one around (apart from a shuffling, smiley man with the fluffy orange dog, whom I passed twice during my walk and he wished me a good morning with the same delight each time).

Monsanto is quite the workout. It could be evidence of my poor fitness or a testament of the elderly residents here, that I was huffing and puffing my way around these boulders. And every corner had a view that my photography skills couldn’t quite capture. I’m sure you’ll forgive me for saying, you just had to be there.

I managed to climb to the highest point - Monsanto Castle. Like the rest of the village, it was a pile of grey boulders with grey stone walls precariously built on top. I figured it was too beautiful for any real battles to have been won here. At the very least the view was disarming enough for me to forget all the troubles in my life.

When I finally got to my resting place, sitting on a large boulder bathed in sunlight, I took a breath. A cleansing breath. I allowed myself to feel small in this enchanting place. I would only have an extra 15 minutes there before I’d need to hit the road again and journey across the border into the unknown.

So I soaked Portugal in for the last time for a long time.

And what a way to say goodbye.

Ta ta for now,

Olivia