This was our last full day in Tavira. We considered going back to a different beach on the back side of the island, but instead we had lunch at an Indian restaurant across the river and then went to a couple of museums. We talked to the people seated around us – two were sisters from Newfoundland, although one of them lived in Texas. The other couple talked to Sandy about the health care system in Portugal and the process of applying for the D7 visa.
We spent part of the day at the Museu Municipal de Tavira, which included the Palácio da Galeria and the Museu Islamico. We were able to see more of the Phoenician archeology sites that were under the palace that had been converted to the art museum. They were ritual pits, and you viewed them from glass panels over the floor.
Gabriela Albergaria was the featured artist in the contemporary art exhibit named “A Natureza Detesta Linhas Rectas” (“Nature Abhors a Straight Line”), and I adored her work with and about trees.
There was an exhibit about the Mediterranean Diet in Portugal, which I’ve come to understand through experience is quite different and complex. The Portuguese are known for their cuisine, and it varies from region to region in this small country. Language varies in different regions too. For example, I tried to interpret “prego,” which I assumed meant sandwich, on a menu in Évora. It translated to “nail.” Nowhere in my two Portuguese to English dictionaries did it list this word, even in Rick Steves’ food lists.
^^^Now I know what pigeon holes are. I think that there were pigeons in every hole in this wall.
When Sandy was taking a nap in the late afternoon, I walked around by myself and did a bit of shopping. Then I wandered up the hill to check out the walk to the clinic where we had covid tests scheduled for the next morning, and the train station nearby. I loved this solitude, and I discovered some streets off the tourist track. This is when I thought, yes, if we could find a quiet place we could afford away from the tourists, I could see living in this area.
^^^An antique and a view from our living room window.
I bought a handwoven bag at a local gift shop, and I was conflicted about giving up my old bag. I loved the outside pockets on it, but because it had a black interior, everything that went inside was hard to find. I called it “the black hole.” Then I remembered that I had brought a sewing kit with me, so I cut the outside panel with the pockets away from the black hole and stitched it to the new bag, all while polishing off a bottle of wine. As you might guess, I was pretty hammered by the time I finished.
Around 9:30 we walked to a corner restaurant/bar where there was live music. There we had appetizers of bruschetta with cheese and honey and dried fruit outside. It was the perfect last dinner in Tavira.