We left town on Easter Monday where the celebration of Christ was in full swing. There were older people dancing in the square where the main street’s decorations culminated. The fireworks that sounded like large gun fire continued from the day before, as did the music. Also on the day before we were greeted by a Priest and a dozen locals of all ages offering a huge gold plated Christ for us to kiss and lollies.

Beautiful designs made of local flowers were laid outside churches and some led up garden paths like a welcoming mat, while others were simply scattered. By the way they only celebrate the one Easter day (the resurrection), but on both the Sunday and the Monday. 

There were many walking wounded today. There was a young German woman limping badly, an American man walking very slowly whom we chatted with for a while, and a Korean man with a bad knee, so I’m feeling pretty good alongside this lot. So we led these struggling walkers through fields of wheat, up a long, long hill and then we sort of jog/walked down the other side through olive farms.

We arrived home to a large Quinta, whose huge garden had more olive trees but with a difference.  

The main difference was that the thirty or so olive trees were growing on small mounds to allow the roots more oxygen. The owner was not into growing the best and most olives but giving the trees a good life. He sees them as going into retirement and treats them as such.

He has one tree that is 600 years old, his special love, and his only desire for this one, especially, but the others as well, is for them to have a long life. He was told by a tree expert that one tree was definitely dead but was so happy to present this prophesier of doom with the largest chestnut he had ever seen. Farmers need to make a living, but this Mozambique family were in a position where they could look at the world differently.

We look forward to breakfast with our older Belgium couple, a little younger German man and our two Dutch friends who made so light of our broken bottle of green wine at our last home.