Mondego: The Valley of Olives

A new beginning in the Serra da Estrela.

Five hundred kilometres of driving. Something that I am fairly accustomed to nowadays, after two years spent exploring western Europe in a beat-up, Mercedes-Benz camper van from 1993. Although this time, it’s different. I sold the van at the beginning of the year, having concluded that there is nothing more to be gained from living in a cabin-on-wheels. Instead of travelling for the purpose of work or adventure as I did in the past, I am now moving to find a new home — for good.

A couple of weeks prior, I made the long journey up to Serra da Estrela in the Centro region of Portugal. I was checking out a potential rental property located somewhere in the valley of the Rio Mondego. For months, I had been talking about moving but for one reason or another, I decided to hang out in the south-west region of Alentejo a little longer. What I found there was a genuine feeling of community, a sense that many foreigners who found themselves there decided to relocate for similar reasons. To find a new home. To create a new life — free from the rigid rules, constraints and inflated cost of living that we were finding in our homelands. This land of ocean views, rolling hills and cork forests became a temporary home for the past year of my life. For the most part, I can only be grateful for the experiences that I had in the Alentejo. However, I often had the feeling that something vital to my existence was missing. After previous months spent living in the Alps and the Pyrénées, I knew that the mountains were an integral part of who I was. On the visual and psychological level — being able to gaze out at these towering citadels of rock and snow gave a sense of aesthetic pleasure that cannot be described in logical terms. It sparks inspiration and gives new life to the imagination. On the physical level, the ability to head out and explore the trails that zig-zag up the valleys, across streams and waterfalls, up to peaks and summits — this is something that I knew I needed in order to be fulfilled.

After spending summer in the dry and dusty part of Portugal, I had a craving for fresh water in a way that I have never felt before. I dreamt of swimming in the praia fluviais (river beaches) that are dotted all over the northern half of the country, taking form in the rivers, streams and waterfalls that exist in abundance when there is enough rainfall. Sat in my van underneath the shade of an ancient cork tree — I would spend time dreaming of the ideal location, if ever such a thing existed. In my imagination, it was a wide valley somewhere in the mountains — wide enough to not feel constricted but still providing a sense of seclusion and protection from the elements. It would be a place with enough water passing through it to create fertile land and green forests — with a river that never stops flowing, even in the height of summer. On all sides, it would be surrounded by panoramic views of the mountains — within close enough reach to provide many hours of adventure and exploration in the wilderness. On this hypothetical land, it would be possible to grow a wide variety of fruits and vegetables — enough sunlight to grow fruits like cherries, kiwis and grapes, enough water to create an abundant vegetable garden on the terraced slopes. Most importantly, it would be a place that with just being there, it would feel like home. Was I overly idealistic? I was sure that such a place existed but I had not yet discovered it — until that first trip to the Mondego valley, on a cold weekend in January.

The morning after I arrived, I saw the place in daylight for the first time. I saw the way the grass glittered with frosty dew. I saw the forests that surrounded the land — oak and chestnut, with groves of olive and cherry in-between. I heard the white noise of the Mondego river flowing through the end of the property — and imagined how good it would feel to start each morning in summer with a swim in the fresh mountain waters. I saw the panoramic views of the Serra da Estrela that surrounded me on all sides — the largest mountain range in the country, a place that could provide enough adventures for an entire lifetime of exploration. Perhaps most significantly, I felt at home. This is was where I belonged, for now at least. There have been a few moments in my life that I can recall, where an opportunity presents itself with such clarity, that to say no would never even be an option. This was one such opportunity.