At Least Once a Year

There has simply not been the will to write an entry for this blog over the past year.  We’ve been smothered in a heads-down attitude and approach to all aspects of life, wondering if this trip to the grocery or that one to the pharmacy would prove the one to provide Covid. Musing over going to a restaurant despite the loosening of the rules, and finally going, but having the joy sucked out of the experience by the perceived need to dodge the invisible floating viruses.  I have stayed low; my wife has developed a “Wash your hands” chant and, as if to punctuate the atmosphere, on the one foray into Galicia last winter I got a gran mal case of shellfish poisoning.  Saddest of all, our little Association, ANTIGA WAVE, established in June of 2020 to help feed Viana’s Covid-caused needy has fizzled.  We fed well over 4000 people in the 18 months it was providing food to the local food bank and in the first year there was a steady stream of contributions from our friends both here and in the States, but the newness apparently wore off and now Linda and I are the only contributors…and we cannot sustain the effort.

And then the Devil attacked the Ukraine.  Within weeks there was a growing trickle and now a steady stream of people fleeing those horrors and we easily found a family of seven who’d lit in the mountains nearby, a bit shocked and with very few resources, but with determination and grit.  ANTIGA WAVE has shifted its focus from the needy in Viana to the desperate from the Ukraine.   Our funds will wither away by the end of July, but until then we’re smoking an occasional brisket or batch of chickens or vat of stew and even playing croquet with the bravest people I’ve ever met.   And drinking a little vodka with them.  Wadka.  Vodka?  Wadka!  The adults in this group are absolutely focused on learning Portuguese, improving their English and seeking jobs and I am confident they will find and fit into the social safety net Portugal is providing the Ukrainians, and will in the long run, prosper.  Until then our marvellous group of local friends has their six.

Recently, however, we’ve felt bold enough and boosted enough to travel.  With a friend from Viana do Castelo we chartered a big fast, comfortable sloop out of Split, Croatia and sailed for a week through the dream-like archipelago that stretches from north of Split to south of Dubrovnik along the Dalmatian Coast.  Islands and coastal glory so attractive and life-giving that is has been contested for over 2000 years.  We fetched up in a little village in a snug harbour on one of the islands that has provided sailors shelter for 2500 years!  The stones of the quay and streets were first polished by the Greeks of the Classical period, and onward ever since…millennia of adventure, thick slices of history.  I am in awe of this corner of the world.

From the monk fish and fresh vegetables baked in cast iron pots stacked with coals from the big open fire, to the grilled lamb and roasted squid stuffed with unbelievably savoury spices served on the veranda overlooking our boat at anchor, this trip was a gourmand’s dream.  Each bakery in every little seawall village offered pastries both savoury and sweet sufficient to make the morning light shimmer.  Croatian wine is very good and they, like the Portuguese, Italians and Spanish, have perfected the art of good coffee.

The familiar arches and columns still stand and one can almost hear the Roman Legions marching and clanking through the streets of Split, as they had first done in the year 350 when this coast was near the edge of the world.  Now, it has become a bit more cosmopolitan and a week ago I ate three fish tacos at a little side-street joint that were as delicious and authentic as any I have gotten in La Paz or Barra de Navidad.  We are awakening to the world.  Perhaps a troubled and dangerous world in some quarters, but one that still provides us with hope…one that will prevail.