Diversifying.

 

Shipping industry changes with the years and port industry has to keep pace. To adapt. For centuries a port of call for transatlantic voyages, welcoming, over decades, the biggest of liners and cruise ships, Funchal reinvents itself nowadays in a new roll, accommodating regularly a new trend in the business that is growing through the years: the mega-yachts.

In the picture one of those - MY Saint Nicolas - departs from Funchal on a calm early morning Spring.

Picture taken with Xiaomi Mi11i.

Serra da Estrela - A late winter season

 

Two months ago, on a short trip to our highest mountain range, Serra da Estrela, a storekeeper told me that the weather was so warm during the New Years Eve that he was selling ice creams at 1600 mts amsl, in his own store, at Lagoa Comprida.

However, as the saying goes, when it rains it pours and, after one of the driest winters in my memory, the end of March brought wet weather and a massive snowfall, carpeting Serra da Estrela, above 1500 mts, in pure white.

In this picture, taken close to Nave the Santo António, an ancient glacier circus, suspended between the glacier valleys of Unhais da Serra and Zêzere river, we can see the majestic sight of the most dramatic landscape in our highest mountain. On the horizon line, where the earth meets the sky, we can see, from left to right, the cyclopic rocky formations of Cântaro Raso, Cântaro Magro and Cântaro Gordo. Like mytological figures, these three monolithic brothers, sculped by water and ice over 300 million years, stand tall, guarding a natural patrimony that we recognize now as deeply vulnerable.

Picture taken handheld with Xiaomi Mi11i smartphone.

Ultralight dreams

Luis Francisco Ponce de León Jiménez is an eighty-year old spanish citizen that is back on the college classrooms, looking for a degree on International Relations, after a plentyful life devoted to knowledge and achieving the completion of ten different university courses along the way.

So, what is the secret for a happy and long fruitful life?

Pursuing our dreams, I imagine, is part of the answer.

The other, as Clint Eastwood, the last of the classic filmmakers, wisely pointed out to Toby Keith is "to just get up every morning and go out. And don't let the old man in."

I'm nowhere near in the same league as this fabulous 93-year old and still active movie director, but I think I can see his point. Keep challeging ourselves through life, keep pushing foward, is the shortest route to a meaningful one. Regardless of our age.

To me, achieving the ultralight aircraft pilot certificate at the already generous age of 53, as modest objectiv as may be for many, was a moment of unquestionable personal satisfaction. So, Clint and Luis are absolutely right. Nearing my mid-fifties and I managed to turn a childhood dream into reality. And, whatahell, it only took forty years.

In the photo, the BRM Land Africa, CS-UVE, with Student-Pilot Francisco Mendes and Pilot-Instructor Paulo Pereira, takes off from runway 15, in Benavente airfield, Ribatejo, Portugal, on a peaceful early March afternoon.

Picture taken, handheld, with Nikon D40-X and Nikon Nikkor 55-200mm AF-S DX VR Zoom F4-5.6G IF-ED cheap kit lens. Light post-processing in Adobe Photoshop CS6.

Exuberant.

 

Ancient water mill in a luxuriant scenario, close to the village of Castro Laboreiro, in the Peneda-Gerês National Park, Northwest Portugal.

Picture taken with Nikon D300 and 18-55mm cheap kit lens. Sirui Traveller tripod and head. Post-processing in Adobe Photoshop CS6.

Atlantis

An ancient legend, of a lost kingdom and a beautiful princess suffering for an impossible love, gives us a mystical explanation, lost in time, to the formation of one of the most beautiful places in our planet.

Walking along the margins of the Lagoon of the Seven Cities, deep inside the crater with the same name, surrounded by an enchanted and luxurious sub-tropical forest, it's so easy to let our minds drift far away from the mundane scientific geological theories accepted universally for the formation of the world and, instead, dream awake with kings and queens, lonesome princesses and magical powers.

Could this be the lost Kingdom of Atlantis, right under our feet?

Picture taken with Nikon D610 and Nikkor 200mm f4 AI-s lens. Manfrotto tripod and ballhead.

Azorean journey, part two

The circular hike along the shoreline of the crater lake of Furnas must be one of the most charming in Azores. The flat trail circumvents the whole volcanic crater, amidst a bucolic landscape of neo-gothic chapels, expensive residences of rich aristocratic landlords, conifers, wet meadows, hot springs and gentle mountain streams, in a lenght of about eight kilometers.

On the trail, besides the occasional tourist, you'll find plenty of locals, whole families or solo individuals, walking the route. Sometimes starting the walk on the town of Furnas, distant a couple of kilometers, on the valley below, and returning by the same way, on a usual afternoon stroll.

Picture taken with Nikon D610 and Nikkor 50mm f1.4 AI. Surui T005 travel tripod.

Azorean journey, part one

Something intangible attracts seafarers to lighthouses. Granted, these are, normally, conspicuous points on the landscapes. So they are usual sightseeing spots. Normally a stopping point on everyone's periplus, most of the times just for the sake of a good vista over the ocean below.

To me, however, the feeling is deeper. It always has a calming effect, made complete with the rotating optics switching-on in the evening twilights.

In those moments my mind returns to my former self, in one of those many stormy nights at sea, surrounded by pitch black sky and ocean. And, suddenly, the entire hull of the vessel being touched by that warm beam of light. Making us instantly feel that we are not alone in the world. That on the distant shoreline someone is on watch for us. To keep us safe.

For us, at sea, a lighthouse is not just a building. It's a living thing. Each one with a personality of its own.

On the photo above:

Ponta do Arnel Lighthouse, in São Miguel island, Açores, facing calm seas, on a January evening.