You close your eyes. Your cell phone has been in your pocket, silent for twenty minutes. You hear water—a stream you can't see, but you know it's there, somewhere among the ash trees. The earthen and shale ground creaks beneath your feet.

Imagine waking up on a farm in Trás-os-Montes without an alarm clock. The light streams in through the soft, golden stone window. Outside, the silence is so complete you can hear the wind rustling through the olive trees.

Imagine this: a long table nestled among olive trees, the sun setting over a dry, golden landscape, the scent of warm earth and wild herbs. A drizzle of olive oil falls onto freshly cut bread. Someone laughs. No one is in a hurry. If you've never experienced a late July afternoon in an olive grove in Trás-os-Montes and Alto Douro, there's a part of the Portuguese summer yet to be discovered.