Summer diet

Only our natural and ever-present human arrogance allow us to, sometimes, forget our actual position on the food chain: somehow nearby the middle.

For many of our fellow inhabitants, within this tiny blue ball drifting around in the universe, we are nothing more than a nice and tender snack.

Picture taken along the shoreline of Olinda, in the Brazilian state of Pernambuco, with Nikon D40X and cheap Nikkor DX 18-55mm standard zoom lens. Post processing in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom.

Porto de Galinhas

I always have a smile when I catch a plane from Lisboa to Brasil. Don't get me wrong; I'm proud of my nationality and I like being European (whatever that may be). However, it's obvious to all of us... Europeans... that we are getting old.

The old Europe needs a breathe of fresh air. We are deep in  a crisis, that's a fact. But how much of it is a crisis of values instead of mere debt numbers? It seems that, presently, we are (almost) all drifting to the first conclusion.

Part of it, of the swamp we are living in, has a direct relation with our own (continental) age. Our tortuous History, with several ups and downs over the centuries, is not helping also. We, naturally, tend to fear the future, when looking at the (poor) examples of the past.

Eventually, we all will overcome this handicap. Europe always was and always will be a beacon to the world. And there is a common heritage that bonds all the nations and all the people in this continent.

To do so, we need to overcome this militant pessimist that invaded all our souls, from the common citizen to the government bureaus.

That capacity for adventure is in our blood, in our common DNA. We just need to vanquish fear. In a way, learn to smile again.
And that capacity for smiling, for "sucking the marrow of life" is something that we always find in the new nations of the world. At least I see it in Brasil. But I guess we can also experience that in the great plains of the Australian outback, in the vast "savanas" of Africa or amidst the great plains of the American Midwest. The sheer continental size of these geographic areas is more than enough to make us forget any symptoms of European depression we may have and turn it, instead, into a positive entrepreneurial force in our lives. In these countries there is no past. Only future. And we Europeans have a big problem: we delve to much into the past.
So, why is Porto de Galinhas a good therapy for this depressing behaviour? Well, I think I'll let the photos speak for themselves. Using the medication is up to you:

Miles of endless sands and an ocean front protected by a offshore coral reef are guaranties of perfect morning walks and relaxed baths. Must be difficult to see the red flag hoisted in Porto de Galinhas. On the background, along the dune cord, a forest of coconut trees. This beach is quite often considered the most beautiful in Brasil. I'm not surprised.

The typical rafts of Porto de Galinhas, once used for fishing and now mostly used for touristic activities, decorate a short strip of sand in front of the town. Believe it or not, this picture was made at 0630 in the morning. With the sun well above the horizon at 0600, don't be a lazy photographer and stay at your hotel room. Pick up the camera and go stretch your legs for a walk on the sand. You'll have plenty of light to shot and only the fishermen on the beach. It's the best time of the day in Porto de Galinhas. Spend a couple of hours photographing around and only afterwards return to your hotel for the breakfast.

The beach right in front of the town's promenade. Early evening. A colorful art show exhibit every day.
Just do yourself a favour.
Avoid Porto de Galinhas on the peak of the Southern Hemisphere Summer. I was there during June of 2010 (the "Winter" and rainy season) and it was simply perfect. Just enough tourists on the street to make it cozy but not overcrowded. You'll have, certainly, better service from the professionals of restaurants and hotels. And you have the sea water at a "chilling" 24 or 25 degrees Celsius... Ah! Ah! Ah!... and the whole beach mostly for you. And if it starts raining... well... just dive in. The sea water is warmer.
Enjoy it!
Pictures taken with Nikon D40X and cheap Nikkor 18-55mm kit lens. Post-processing in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.01.
 

Praia da Conceição, Olinda, Pernambuco

Facing the ocean.

Picture taken with Nikon D40X and cheap Nikkor 18-55mm f/3.5-5.6G ED II AF-S DX kit lens. Post-processing in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom, ver. 4.1.

Love and hate

I've always had a bipolar relationship with my professional seafaring life. Sometimes it seemed to me the most romantic career that anybody could ever dream of. Other times it simply looked just like a big waste of my (ours!) time in this good old planet. Granted, most of it is filled with water. So being a professional mariner in it is not as out-of-place as we might think. However, seafaring is a rose filled with thorns. To live this "adventurous" life the price to pay is high. We'll gradually loose contact with family, with friends. And that solitude will walk with us through our entire career, being it ten or thirty years long. It's like being a monk, without the habit and the implied celibacy.

And this feeling is not a new one. Already in the ancient Greece, a philosopher of the Era stated that there were three kinds of persons on the planet: the living ones, the dead ones and the seafarers. During my two years as a Cadet, when everything looked sunshine and roses and when I, rightfully, thought of myself as being a descendant of Magalhães or Vasco da Gama, I used to listen a lot one of my older shipmates favorite remarks: the sea is for the fishes. Sometimes they went as far as to emphasize that if this was the right place for us, we should have born with flippers, something that I obviously had not.

From those days on, my relation with my chosen career was always a tie between the good days (and they normally were marvellous) and the bad ones (normally disgusting).

One thing, however, I never forgot from those early days. I asked a shipmate (a First-Class Seaman, now retired for years), during one of the many boring lookouts on deck we used to do, what would he like to do after retirement. He said he'd love to make an ocean voyage. On a sailing vessel. Pushed only by the wind. To forget the endless seafaring life on motor-vessels, their main engine vibrations and the propulsion cavitation. Free from the rat race.

Like all souls in this Earth, he, too, searched the purity of his life though simplicity. And I knew that our happiness in life is merely dependent on the satisfaction of (mostly) a simple wish. And that our personal universe, to lead us to happiness, doesn't have to be so large. The beauty of life is on the simple things. We just have to learn to discover and cherish them.

We just have to take (as Robert Pirsig wrote in "Zen And The Art Of Motorcycle Maintenance") a handful of sand from the endless landscape of awareness around us and call that handful of sand the world.

A fisherman launches his raft to the sea, one early morning, in Porto de Galinhas, Pernambuco, Brasil.

Photo taken with Nikon D40X and cheap Nikkor 18-55mm AF-S 1:3.5-5.6 G VR kit lens.

Post-processing in Adobe Photoshop CS3.

Olinda

Olinda is a feast for our eyes. And while we are at it, for the rest of our senses as well. Located near Recife, in Pernambuco, Brasil, this perfect former portuguese colonial town is as much portuguese as it is brazilian. The portuguese breath-taking architecure and the brazilian "tropicalidade" present in every corner, while we are walking along the cobblestone roads, makes us wish that the time spent there never ends. A mix of Europe and the Americas, of the old and the new worlds, Olinda is the living past in a country with a bright future.

And the colours!

Oh, the colours...

Picture taken with Nikon D40X and cheap Nikkor DX 18-55mm AF-S 1:3.5-5.6G VR kit lens.

Post-processing with Adobe Photoshop CS3.

My idea of Paradise

The concept of Heaven or Paradise is different for all of us. If you are a religious soul, Heaven is mostly a place in your mind. An utopic dream of eternity and happiness. For others, for the more practical minded, Heaven is a place on Earth (thanks Belinda!). I belong to this second group. Not that I don't fancy the idea of life after death. It's quite appealing, actually. After a lifetime of work and (almost) no fun in the lower level of the atmosphere, who isn't teased by the idea of enjoying the eternity in a penthouse on the highest condo of the block?

Well, regardless of that post-mortem prize we all are supposed to get, I think we should make an effort to find it here. In our lifetime.

It can also be a place within us (probably it always is), like several oriental philosophies praise for centuries. But for the vast majority of us, Heaven is, normally, a physical place and a time.

Struggling with an attempt for a concrete definition (we humans are so analytical), I would say that, to me, Paradise is a place in this good old Earth where I would love to spend my last days. And although I'm in love for the mountains since my childhood and run to them in every free weekend, I couldn't consider the idea, as a senior citizen (if I last that long), to spend among the highest peaks my last years of life. No Sir. Too cold. And I guess by that time, we all, more or less, suffer a little bit from rheumatism. Too isolated, also. So that means no roads, no cinemas, no malls (well, that's hardly an inconvenience). But, above all, no people. And how many of us want to die alone? So the mountains have their role. Certainly. When we climb them we feel closer to something divine. Place us closer to that biblical idea of Heaven. And, for that matter, the actual mountain high is irrelevant. As long as we are above the clouds. Also, the light air makes us think smart things (or is it oxygen deprivation?).

However, after all this enlightenment, it's always good to return to the valleys, to the actual world of mankind where we belong.

Therefore mountains are far from being my idea of Heaven. To me, they are just therapeutic. It's a bit like Jesus’ forty days sojourn in the Judean desert. He went there because He needed answers. Not because it was a particularly interesting place to visit.

So, my paradise on Earth is at a quite lower altitude. Near sea level, to be precise. It has to have tepid and peaceful salt waters, a coral reef at the distance, nice people, pure white sands and coconut trees leaning over our heads. Sharks are dispensable.

I can honestly feel that I've found this place one year ago. More than a place, it's a region: all the coastal area of the Pernambuco state, from the city of Recife to the border of Alagoas. Along a stripe of a few hundred kilometres, we can see some of the most wonderful beaches of Brasil. But, to me, Tamandaré beats them all. Distant about one hundred kilometres from the state capital, Tamandaré is a peaceful small town of 20.000 persons that, for the time being, manages to be free from the massified tourism that invaded the nearby Porto de Galinhas. This calm fishing village is, for the time being, my idea of paradise.

Not so well known to the foreign tourists, Tamandaré is for decades one of the most important resorts in Brasil for it's internal tourism. The proximity of Porto de Galinhas, with it's massive international touristic offer, allowed this gem to pass the years almost untouched. Nevertheless, expensive holiday mansions located by the seaside, belonging either to wealthier Brazilian or foreign citizens, are becoming common. How can we blame them? 

The seaside avenue of Tamandaré. Here you will find plenty of snack-bars (the "quiosques) by the beach where you can eat some nice Brazilian meals, while listening some live folk music. Strangely, the place, although touristic, is never too crowded.You will always find tourists walking around, even in the low season when they are in shorter numbers. However, You will always have the sense that this friendly town is only for you.

The Tamandaré fortress (Forte de Santo Inácio de Tamandaré) is a Vauban-style fortress rebuilt in the XIX century over the previous Portuguese fortress from the XVII century. The monument, with elegant architecture, is a mandatory visit in the village. Sadly it's interior is in a state of ruin. The Tamandaré lighthouse, seen in the picture, is erected within the fortress perimeter.

No enemies to face anymore.

The guns at Tamandaré fortress face the sea and the ancient stories of the Portuguese-Dutch wars.

Regardless of becoming a touristic place, Tamandaré remains a fishing village. Aside from the normal power boats, this small industry still relies on the typical Pernambuco raft for its purposes. Steered with an oar, they also have a movable fin keel secured in either port or starboard. The propulsion is normally achieved with a Latin sail and also, sometimes, with a small outboard engine.

Evening light in Tamandaré beach.

In the Winter season, with the whole beach for himself, a biker faces the evening sun in Tamandaré beach.

The Pousada Beira-Mar, in Tamandaré.

The Pousada Beira-Mar is one of the many friendly and family-owned hostels that already exists in Tamandaré. Dedicated to a more easy-going and peace-driven kind of tourism (if you want a five star resort, you can go to the nearby Porto de Galinhas), these small hostels have, nevertheless, excellent conditions, sometimes even with wireless Internet. So, if you hate to hear noise, dealing with drunken guests and enjoy the idea of sharing "your" home away from home with a maximum of fifteen people, then you came to the right place.

It seems that in Brazil Carnival never really ends. Carnival confetti hanging in a restaurant of Tamandaré.

Coconuts in the Tamandaré street market.

The fabulous Praia dos Carneiros, 7 kilometres North of Tamandaré. Believe me, the five mile walk, along the coast, between Tamandaré and Carneiros is, probably, one of the best beach walks that you can make in this God's Earth. Just take a bottle of fresh water, a hat, a t-shirt and a pair of "Havaianas" with you.