Little House on the Praia / Summers in Portugal.

 It's a little village.   It's always been a little village, when my mom grew up there, when my grandmother grew up there.   When my great grandmother lived there it had nothing.   It was just sand, a few houses and lots of shacks because it was just a little fishing village.  I know those memories are in my DNA and that is why the first time I went into the ocean with my dad, I felt like a mermaid.   "Yay! floating is cool."

It's people were very poor.   Life was very simple.   The "campanha's went out every morning to drop their nets in the middle of the ocean and come back with long ropes so they can be pulled back in by fisherman.   Then thousands of fish get picked and put into wood boxes to be sold locally and wholesale.   Then you had to clean up everything after, it was a hours ordeal.   They used two bulls to help with the pulling back then.   Then off to another part of the beach there are mounds of women separating all the different fish.   There were be about 4 fishing boats and they were owned by different families.  Now there are 3.  Those fishing boats kept that village alive.   It was a hard life.   They only made money in the summer months.. winters were hard.   

I got to go there in the summers whenI turned 13 and the old soul in me that lived here before.. fell in love all over again.    The salt air, the ocean... the people.. the oldness of it all.