The best bread in the world
We are anchoring in a nice little bay with withe sand enclosed by hills with green bushes and trees which are standing so close together and whose branches are so fine and crocked that from a distance they seem like a giant broccoli. Our plan for this morning is to take the dinghy in order to get some bread and vegetables in the nearby village of Bahia de Praia. Even it is Sunday today we hope to find a shop which is open in the morning. As we arrive on the beach of Bahia there is already some entertainment going on. A group of children is dancing to rhythm given by a instructor in front of the only building on the beach. Some people are taking a bath while others walking the beach up and down. I do enter into a bar in the building and I meet a couple which came for a visit over from São Miguel. They tell me that there is a shop further up the hill but without a car it would be a 20 to 30 minutes walk. We start walking on the main road, along low, white houses with red bricked roofs and oversized chimneys overlooking neat little gardens. The higher we climb the more amazing gets the view over the bay with its turquoise waters and its green rolling hills.
The way is much longer as we have thought and almost without taking notice we are leaving the village entering another one. At least it looks like we have reached the top as the road stops going up. After almost an hour we see the sign of a mini market. As we approach it we fear what is confirmed once we read the notice on the door: Closed on Sundays. A bit displeased we commence our way back to the beach where we have left our dinghy as suddenly a red two seater car with a box at the back stops beside us. In front two women and in the box at the back two young men and a boy. “To the beach?” the driver asks us. “Yes, yes, thank you very much.” we are answering happy to have found a transport back. As the car starts I tell the story of our little mishap this morning to the passengers. “You need bread?” the woman behind the wheel is asking. “I do have bread. I have a bakery.” We hardly can believe what she is saying. All the cars that could have stopped and it is the village baker who is giving us a lift. Maria de los Angeles, what means Maria of the Angels, what an appropriate name, turns around the car and we are driving to her house. As we arrive there she is taking us to her bakery where she proudly shows us the rustic stone oven in which she is making her bread since more than 30 years from one o’clock on every morning. We buy three big artesian breads and she is offering us four bags with delicious cookies. As we get into the car we still can’t believe what just has been happening to us. It is almost incredible how those little experiences with a touch of unbelievable always are happening when one is traveling. The world is marvellous and most of its people are exceptional and absolutely lovely. Thank you Maria de los Angeles for being our angel today.
This afternoon we are going to have a barbecue at the little beach in front of our anchoring place. We do have some delicious meat, fresh salad and a wonderful wine from La Rioja, but I bet it will be the bread which will be most tasty this time.
Keep rocking the universe