I’ve had the good fortune to retire to the Algarve, whilst still having enough strength to push a wheelbarrow. Although born in Wales, I’ve spent much of my life as a somewhat frustrated gardener in South London, where I nurtured a minute patch behind a terraced house in Camberwell, squeezed between all kinds of crazy happenings. Gardening within a community was fun, and eventually I had an allotment where I learned a little about vegetable gardening and even more about humanity! I’ve read heaps about gardening, but practised little, as my life has always been very busy. Now I’ve got time on my hands and before pushing up the daisies, plan on growing a few, supported by my husband, who shall be known hitherto as “Señor Faztudo”, or “Mr Do-it-all”. A year ago or so, we fell in love with a house being built on the edge of a hill to the West of Loule. The wind howls,; the sun beats down; the rain is torrential at times; the view is magnificent; the plot is about a third of an acre (you can tell how old I am!) and on steep ground with some terraces. It is heavy, stick-to-your-boots red clay. My Portugese is at a very early stage and I have a neighbour, Donna M, who is very bemused by my gardening efforts, but who has helped me understand where I am going wrong, as well as taught me the Portugese names for many things (try miming horse manure!) I am getting to know the expat gardening community also, who are very supportive, both online and in real life. So join me on my journey. We can have a sort of over-the-garden-fence thing going on. All tips and mistakes gratefully welcomed in the comments boxes! Let’s learn together!
I have a personal blog here too, if you’re interested.