Corinne CrawfordIt was Thanksgiving. Obviously, countries in Europe do not celebrate this holiday that is so important in the United States. I decided to take a day trip to Tavira, a small town about an hour by train from Faro. This was a town listed in the Rick Steves book so I figured it was a good one to wander around. So I got my start in the morning with the 10am train. Once I arrived in Tavira, it was a short walk to the center of town, which was along a river. I followed the walking tour in the Rick Steves book and saw the ancient Roman bridge and walls and of course, a few churches.
I even went to one of his recommended restaurants that had outdoor tables right at the river’s edge. It was an Irish bar. I hadn’t been to as many Irish bars as I anticipated over the duration of the trip. There is an Irish bar in just about every country, every city and it is a good place to go when you don’t know where else to go. So I sat at an outside table and lo and behold, there was a roast turkey option on the menu. It was sort of Shepard pie meets open face turkey sandwich and it was good.
I felt that I was celebrating Thanksgiving in my own way and for sure was incredibly grateful for the opportunity and ability to do the type of traveling I had done over the last three months. I knew in my heart that I was not ready to “go home” yet. But at this point, I don’t really have a home. I was going to go back to my parent’s home in Michigan and offer whatever assistance I could to them as my mother was the sole caretaker of my father, who had Parkinson’s disease that is manifesting in lots of different ways that require quite a bit of care. They wanted to get out of the cold of the Midwest for the winter and rented a house in Lake Havasu City and I wanted to make sure they got packed up and got to their destination safely. I was going to caravan with them to help with the things like carrying things in and out of accommodations, doing laundry along the way, etc. Because of the limited amount they wanted to drive each day plus visiting relatives and friends along the way, they were planning a three week trip across the country.
In any event, I was very thankful that not only could I wander Europe for three months, I was grateful that I could then offer myself for whatever my parents needed for a while. And the thing that soothed my melancholy from my impending departure was that I was already planning for a return to the European nomadic lifestyle once I got my parents to Arizona safely and my three months of not being in the Schengen Zone passed. Knowing that I would get to return to my adventure was a relief and blessing and I ate my roast turkey along the riverside in a small town in Portugal feeling very blessed indeed.
I finished my wanderings around Tavira and made my way back to the train station to head back to Faro. The town offered quite a lively scene with the World Cup going on and Portugal playing so I actually watched the end of the game at the sports bar directly across the way from my apartment.
It was standing room only out on the outdoor terrace and it was fun to be part of the excitement and national unity behind the team. They won but as we all know, they did not make it to the final nor did Brazil. It was a fun way to end the evening in this beautiful country. I went back to the apartment and finished my packing as I was leaving very early in the morning, about 6:45am.