Portugal Surf Safari
We just drove away. Me and my new friend Amy, a serial entrepreneur, who I met in Lisbon. I recently moved to the Portuguese city from San Francisco a few months ago but already I felt the urge to escape the Covid19 headlines in favor of an open road and a gentle surf break. So we rented a vintage VW bus, the perfect camping vessel, and pointed it’s baby blue nose south to the tip of Europe. Our plans were loose. We just knew we had ten days to wander along the coastal route from Lisbon to Lagos. Where exactly we would find ourselves was left to the adventure gods. Betty, which we lovely named our 1967 VW, became our time capsule into a lost world of freedom and flexibility. We took spontaneous turns off the main road to follow a van of surfers or got word from a long haired local at the corner shop in order to find our nightly parking spot. There wasn’t a single place that didn’t serve up it’s magic from Arrabida to Aljezur. I guess that’s what happens when the journey becomes the destination. Just listening to our daily desire to stay or to go. Crisp mornings were spent with the sliding door swung open to a surf break as palo santo wafted the Covid19 nightmares away. After a cup of hot coffee we’d plunge into the cool 18 degree celsius (64 degrees fahrenheit) waters below. The beaches were empty and when we eventually found humans it was a very friendly, hyper-local crowd. The trip was under 600 euros and we didn’t venture far from home. Yet we were a matrix away with salty skin and hair a bit greasier than intended. A cold van shower every four days wasn’t overtly aspirational. But cruising on the open road made me realize that home really is wherever you park yourself. And freedom can often be found just by choosing to let it find you. — Emilie Talermo