All good. That is what my life has become in Portugal.
I was staying in a small cottage in Tornada Portugal, on a vineyard that was owned and operated by the awesome Swedish couple Lars and Elsa. They had just moved to Portugal from Stockholm, Lars worked at a very successful company but the stress from the job and the awfully long commute was enough to send him on a mission to find someplace remote where he could work on the land. He seemed really happy to me, always enthusiastic for what he’s learned about the grapevines.
Elsa is incredibly knowledgable about Portugal, I must credit her for telling me about Nazaré. I also met a French man who often visited the vineyard, he was a photographer that frequented Nazaré and showed me photos that blew my mind. I had to go there. I already booked this place in Tornada for a month, but after two weeks I was itching to get to the ocean. I made sure to express my deep appreciation for their hospitality when I told them I’d be leaving sooner then expected. They were worried that they’d done something wrong but I assured them I just really wanted to be closer to the ocean.
I took a bus and end up in Nazaré. It’s a decently sized town with lots of restaurants and shops that line the beachfront road. There’s a raw, massive cliffside that serves as a gorgeous backdrop for the white-walled, red-roofed buildings down below.
I give myself an uneducated tour of the town and find myself climbing what seems to be a never-ending staircase that leads to the top of the cliff. I was dripping with sweat and realization that I was incredibly out of shape by the time I reached the top. This is Sitio, “The Spot”. I see older ladies dressed in skirts with so many layers that they almost look like ballerinas. They're setting up their stands to sell cashews and other assorted nuts to tourists who get dropped off by the bus load. I see groups of older men drinking beer and having a laugh at the little cafés and it’s 9:00am. Forget the whole, "It's 5 o'clock somewhere" phrase: anytime is the right time for a Super Bock in Portugal! I see stray dogs that are on a mission- they trot right past me despite my best attempts to lure them in with my whistle and gentle voice. I see white cobblestone walkways that follow the edge of the cliff and panoramic views of the scenic bluffs that keep the wild Atlantic at bay.
I walk down the one lane road the leads to the farol (lighthouse) at the end of the cliff. I'm greeted by strong winds that carry a salty mist and a sight I will not soon forget. There are mountains camouflaged as waves that are marching in one by one in every direction. Huge explosions of white water erupt as the waves break with a deep thunderous roar.
This is a whole other world.
That big rock in front stands 50 feet above the water.
I've been walking around for a couple hours now and I was kind of hungry. I noticed there are plenty of pastelarias to choose from but I take a seat inside "Cores E Sabores". I had no idea at the time but this spot was thee spot. After ordering my cha verde (green tea) and chocolate croissant I noticed a troop of cars towing jet skis park across the street followed by men with professional cameras.
Talk about a random assortment of people to find in a tiny town in a tiny café.
Suddenly this place with only 8 tables is at full capacity. Apparently this is where the surfers meet up to form the game plan for the day. I'm now sharing a table with a Portuguese photographer named Manuel, and 3 surfers, Glyn, Toby and David. They introduced themselves and I begin to ask them all about the big waves. They answer with enthusiasm laced with apprehension. They're all here to pursue their dreams, but they're also well aware it could cost them dearly.
I can't imagine wanting to surf a wave that reaches heights of 75'-100'. I mean, think about that for a second.
What events have happened in your life for you to want to voluntarily throw yourself over the edge of a wave the size of a 10 story building.
That's one heck of a way to entertain yourself. Imagine a life of constantly pushing one's limits, both physically and mentally and never feeling quite satisfied- at least not for long. That is moxie personified.
In case you can't quite understand the severity of this task Here's a better description of the weight of big waves.
Nazaré seems to draw in all sorts of people. Those who are looking to escape for a while in a small quiet town, those who are looking for the ride of their life, and then there was me, just a girl looking for an international adventure. I had no idea the impact this trip would have on my life. This was only the beginning of an absurdly crazy adventure that would lead me to doing things I never thought I'd have the cajones to do, and making incredibly strong ties to those I've met along the way.
