Algarve Letters

The Monchique Sausage Fair

I haven't been to this fair for some time; after all, I'm not in Portugal so much these days, but last week we decided to pay another visit.

After what has apparently been an awful winter, said by many to be the wettest and coldest on record (thank goodness I missed it), the mimosa was rather late in flowering this year. Usually by now it has faded, but it was in full bloom the whole way up the mountainside:



The fair showcases the usual local handicrafts:













Those of you who know me will not be surprised to learn that I stocked up on cakes. The one joy in this part of the world is the superb skill there is in making sweets.

I got home and opened up my fifteen year old bual madeira, which went splendidly with a light fluffy cake laced with strings of egg yolk.

Sitting on the patio overlooking the estuary, with the town framed between the palms a couple of miles upstream, life seemed to be pure perfection.

john