Arrived in Porto Covo and set up under Eucalyptus trees at a campsite on the beach, just north of the town. I feel a bit drained, so we decided to stop for a few nights to chill. The miles are hard in Portugal, the maps don’t match the road, (or the TomTom), the road signs are few and far between and driving by compass on cobbled streets is frustratingly slow and laborious.
Figure 31 Fire truck in LagosBut we went to the beach in the morning on Sunday, before rain stopped play and we came back to the van to read. We noticed the odd burying beetle during the day in amongst the masses of ants that we were parked over, but you couldn’t help but notice them at night. I knew the beetles were huge and that they sometimes flew, but I didn’t realise they all did it in unison every night. And I really wasn’t prepared for the noise that they make when large numbers of them start flying around your head in the dark.
“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” –Mark Jenkins