Between fire and water

Portugal

Northern Portugal greets us differently than we expected. It hasn’t rained for weeks.

The landscape is dry, tense, and within the first few kilometres, we can see and smell the smoke from the fires in the mountains. Our motorhome has been waiting for us in Guimarães throughout our weeks-long trip to Thailand. We return there, collect it, and continue our journey right from here. A quiet, almost unspectacular return to Europe.

From there, we drive on into the mountains, to where the fire has already left its mark. Up there, the scene changes. Between scorched patches and plumes of smoke lies a lake, almost overflowing with water. Tree tops protrude from the surface, as if the water had simply shifted the landscape.

A quiet, almost unreal place – as if it cannot decide whether it is a threat or a refuge. At the same time, something begins to change. The first buds are visible; the green is slowly returning. With it come the less romantic side effects: runny noses, sneezing fits, and allergy tablets. Spring, in practical terms.

It is the off-season. Apart from us, there is only a British family on the site. No crowds, no noise – just wind, water and, occasionally, the distant smell of smoke. After weeks in Thailand, this place doesn’t feel like a homecoming, but rather a transition.

Europe begins quietly here. And in the end, what remains is an impression that defies easy categorisation: a landscape between extremes – dry and flooded, scorched and yet in the midst of renewal.

Beautiful.