Experiences organized by "Kalandra Pacsirta"

Nóri Hunyadi was recommended to me by Piroska Felkai when I was looking for a tour guide for a day in the Sintra-Cascais area. Nóri is also a photographer, which I was very happy about because I don't have any good photos with my dogs and I was confident that she would be able to help me with that (too).

We agreed to meet at 10 a.m. in the parking lot behind the Cascais market. I arrived half an hour early on purpose to let the dogs stretch their legs a bit. I parked in a great spot, because two minutes away from the parking lot, there was a lovely little green oasis with a babbling brook and a path along the shore. I let Panka off the leash, kept Gerbeaud close to me, and we had a nice walk before the meeting.

Nóri is a very kind, smiling young woman and mother; I immediately sensed that we were going to have a good day. First, we walked around the center of Cascais a bit, looked at a lighthouse from the outside, and went down to the sandy beach on the oceanfront, where I let the dogs off the leash. Gerbeaud immediately ran to the other dogs to "hang out," while Panka circled around us, not straying far. Then, when Gerbeaud picked up a ball belonging to a mother and daughter playing ball and proudly carried it around the beach — seeing the mother's disapproving glances — I thought it best to take it from him, put him on a leash, and move on. So far, this has been my only negative "experience"; everyone loves my dogs, really. People here are very dog-friendly.

Before getting into the car, I bought two beautiful roses at the market, which I later threw into the ocean. One was in memory of my friend's brother, the other was for my darling David.

We stopped several times at the oceanfront to admire the vast expanse of water, stretch our legs, and let the dogs run. Praia da Cresmina and Guincho; Núcleo de Interpretacao da Duna da Cresmina (This is a cool little dog-friendly café on top of the sand dunes. Why does it have such a long name? Almost everything here has a long name here. No clue about their reasoning.) While we drank delicious iced coffee, the dogs lay down nicely in the "dog café" designated for them.

Cabo da Roca: the westernmost point of mainland Europe. "Where the land ends and the sea begins." It rises about 140 meters above sea level, and the lighthouse at the top has been operating since 1772. From a distance, it has an almost commanding presence, "dominating the area" like the Pannonhalma Abbey at home. It is as if it has always been there, as if the location was designed just for it.

Praia da Ursa (Bear Beach): A majestic, breathtaking sight. It gets its name from the rock formation called Rocha da Ursa, which resembles a bear holding a cub. I couldn't really see it, but maybe I just don't have enough imagination. Or maybe part of it has been washed away by the constantly rolling waves. Steep paths lead to the best viewpoints and down to the bay. It is a true natural wonder, to which people have contributed by not developing it and not turning it into a money-making machine. This wonder belongs to everyone.

After Praia da Ursa, my stomach started to rumble, and Nóri had a special restaurant in store as a surprise. It was called Moinho Dom Quixote (Don Quixote Mill), and we had to wait in line for at least twenty minutes before we were shown to our table. The dogs waited patiently with us. It is a very special place, built next to a former mill, with tables arranged on a terrace, many with a view of the ocean, the rest overlooking a fantastically lush garden. The waiters are super friendly, and the food and drinks are extremely delicious and appetizing. We had a great chat and lots to talk about. Nóri is very knowledgeable and you can tell she loves what she does. The sun was shining warmly, there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, which is why there were so many people in the restaurant. After an unusually cold, rainy, and stormy winter, this was the first truly sunny, warm weekend, and as many people as possible took advantage of it. When we left the restaurant, there were three times as many people waiting in line as when we arrived.

From here, our journey took us to Azenhas do Mar, where water mills used to operate. What can I say? Here, too, I was speechless at the beauty, the power of the water, the roar, the lights of the beginning sunset. It would have been a shame to miss it.

The plan was to go to Marinha Guincho at sunset and throw the flowers into the ocean. The light was wonderful. There was a cloud on the horizon, so the sun disappeared a little faster than we would have liked, but the intimate atmosphere, the soothing colors, the slowing down that comes with remembrance, and the inner peace still gave us some very beautiful memories. Panka, true to her "bezzegkutyaság" nature, was there around me the whole time. Gerbeaud, as it turned out later, was being petted by strangers. We could hardly find him because he didn't come when I called him—why would he, when someone was pampering him?—and the young people he was sitting with were wearing black pants. It took me a while to focus my eyes on the big black shape and make out the contours of this little lecherous vagabond. He would make a fantastic therapy dog, spending hours in peace and quiet while someone stroked him and played with his little silky ears.

It was already dark by the time we made our way through the busy streets of Cascais and I dropped Nóri off in front of her apartment.

I am writing this report on Tuesday, and I feel that it was a very good decision to ask Nóri to accompany me. I learned a lot, we visited wonderful places, ate and drank delicious food and drink, and thanks to Nóri's expertise in "capturing the moment," we took some incredibly beautiful, touching, and intimate photos. By evening, even the dogs were just longing for their dinner and their beds. I admit: I was tired too. Pleasantly tired, full of experiences, love, and admiration for Portugal. Thank you for this unforgettable day, Nóri!