earlier this winter, we put a few days aside to walk the rota vicentina, a route of (mostly) seaside trails in the southwest coast of portugal. the challenge and the cliffs lured us in, and as soon as we found a string of days promising good weather, we booked some hostels along the way and went for it — first from sagres to aljezur, and then from aljezur to porto covo.

i have trouble summing up the experience in simple words. weeks later, i still feel the pain and boredom of the kilometers stretching into hours, but also the awe of the breathtaking scenery and the freedom of having nothing to do but walk all day.

it’s funny how time dilates when we’re boot-deep in sand, feet sinking with every step. hours stretch into kilometers, another one and another one, and before we know it, a town of white-washed houses appears like a mirage in the horizon. we know ourselves differently after a long walk. we talk at length with the people walking with us, and sometimes with ourselves. we become the people who recognize birds, who stop to photograph another flower or bush — the people who notice stuff.

slowly, running or walking, we’re becoming familiar with this place we now call home.