«Happiness travels with you»: a harsh winter comes to an end

We have to leave our pitch in Portugal immediately. The campsite is permanently closed. This news hits us completely unexpectedly while we are setting up our second home in France. We had been given the green light by the campsite reception in November to leave our caravan over the Christmas period until the New Year. We inform them that we need some time to travel back.

«Now we have a new challenge,» says our big girl. In any case, our two daughters are taking the whole thing surprisingly calmly.

What happens to old Johann?

We are most concerned about the people who have set up a permanent life on the campsite. There is a small tent village with packed caravans and 80 stationary mobile homes. Some of these were used as permanent accommodation by Portuguese senior citizens, but also by newcomers with limited financial means. Now the contracts are not being renewed and they only have a few weeks to vacate their pitches.

This community has grown over decades. We feel it would be rude and unfair to simply kick people out. What is 86-year-old Johann doing now with his two dogs, who take themselves for a walk around the square every day? Where is João, who took us fishing and baked cakes for us, going?

The mood on the campsite is gloomy. The tenants are sad, many are angry.

We organised squirrel food for him via Grandma and Grandpa from Germany. These animals are not actually native to Portugal, but João discovered some in the pine trees. We don't even pack the food now. Instead of joy, the journey back to Portugal begins with a queasy feeling in our stomachs.

Fatty is waiting for us

After a long journey, we finally arrive. Our pegs have withstood the winter storms and the Dicker caravan is waiting for us. Only one other lonely motorhome is still there.

Fortunately, the campsite managers are accommodating. We negotiate a grace period of three weeks so that we can reorient ourselves. The girls pick up where they left off. They are looking forward to seeing their friends. They go out of their way to find us a new place to stay.

Where to put all the plants?

The mood on the campsite is sombre. The tenants who have come to collect their belongings are sad, many of them angry. The tent village begins to disintegrate. Piles of rubbish pile up. People take the most important things with them, but many plants end up in the rubbish.

The daughter with her heart for everything that grows and her travelling garden starts a rescue operation. Plants left behind are collected and taken to the learning centre. Unfortunately, we can't take them in.

In search of a new parking space

We are looking for a place to park our caravan. A motorhome would be more practical now, so we could live at least partially self-sufficiently. Without water, electricity and a toilet, we'd soon be at a loss.

A friendly older Portuguese man shows us a piece of land that we could use. Goats are jumping around, how cute. A dog greets us in a friendly manner. He is very skinny and a large ulcer lets his belly hang down to the ground. There are also hunting dogs - they are kept in a small enclosure and their food is mixed with the droppings that are not collected. The odour is pungent.

Next door in a garage, among the junk, hangs a wild boar that is being carved up. «Do you want to take some meat with you?» Our friends translate, our Portuguese isn't good enough. I want to laugh and cry at the same time. The man's sincere helpfulness and friendliness clash with my feelings of disgust and the desire for a safe place to feel good.

We find an interim solution

Another friend takes us to a «quinta», an old estate that is now used for events. Holiday flats are also rented out here. Perhaps we could have the caravan here with us? No, everything is occupied. Or maybe it is?

Once the owners have convinced themselves that we haven't fallen off the devil's wagon, they offer to set up our caravan in the backyard for two to three months until the season starts.

We enjoy the last few days with an unobstructed view of the sea before we leave our beloved campsite for good.

Where is our happiness?

That's when everyone gets really sick. That is, everyone except the child who used to be hospitalised almost every February when colds and early bloomers pushed her bronchial tubes into overdrive. The girl doesn't even have a runny nose.

After social distancing due to Covid, everyone had the immune system of a toddler at nursery, the doctor said, when the third family member also needed antibiotic treatment. We had all been healthy for two and a half years while travelling. Finally, a sick dog joins the family. Our Maila is small. The fertiliser she ate in the barn doesn't affect her size, but it does affect her digestion. Where has our luck just hidden?

«Now I'd like a home!» says the miserable child. She dreads walking across the whole yard to the bathroom. Maybe we should rent a permanent home after all?

Many buildings here have no heating. At night, the temperatures in February are usually in the single digits. Friends who pay outrageous prices for their rented flats go to bed with their winter jackets on. No washing dries, everything is damp. So we feel quite at home in Dicker with the warmth of our feet and heating.

The longing to dock

The attempt to settle here raises questions. We felt comfortable at the campsite with the community, the proximity to the sea, the learning centre and the village centre. However, it should only be an intermediate step towards a permanent solution.

We dream of cherries in the Spanish Extremadura and the wild beauty of Asturias and Cantabria.

Our hope for a permanent home in Portugal lay in an exciting construction project with tiny houses, which should have been ready for occupancy this summer. Now they haven't even received the final authorisation from the local authorities. Nobody knows how much longer it will take. The thread on which our future here hangs has become thin.

Our desire to reconnect, on the other hand, grows ever greater. We dream of cherries in the Spanish Extremadura and the wild beauty of Asturias and Cantabria on the way back to our little house in the Cevennes, where we want to spend the summer.

Digital nomads

There are many digital nomads here. Adults who can work from their computer and are therefore not tied to one place.

Can children and young people also be digital nomads? Society's ideas about what children and young people need are once again clashing with our experiences and feelings.

«I can imagine living somewhere again, but I don't want to give up travelling,» says the younger one. The older one talks about the tingling in her stomach when we think about new routes. The children don't feel the need to find a permanent base here as quickly as possible.

Happiness lures us back onto the road

Spring makes its presence felt with countless flowers and milder nights and we enjoy the beautiful surroundings in the old quinta. However, we soon have to leave. We don't want to accept another compromise with a different car park.

The school supports our plans to finish the school year on the road. In late summer, however, we will definitely be back in the village on the Atlantic with our friends and the learning centre. We are already looking forward to it.

In the meantime, we sense happiness ahead of us on the road.