As writing desks go, the one I am currently sitting at (which, I hasten to add, I am renting, rather than having bought it) is pretty expensive. That’s because it is attached to a Boeing 737, and is currently cruising at several thousand feet above the Mediterranean. It’s either 8PM or 10PM on Monday evening, depending on whether I have switched my watch back to Israel time yet, or more correctly 9PM, since we are currently off the Spanish coast. All of this means that publication time for this post is a slightly intimidating 11 hours away, so I had better get cracking.

A little under eight hours ago we kissed the kids and the grandkids goodbye, calculating how long it is until our next trip – probably only two-and-a-half months. Leaving is always hard. Micha’el and Tslil are able, while we are with them, to devote more time to their various joint and separate projects than they usually can. Our departure means, for them, a return to full-time family and household duties. (Incidentally, all being well, I plan to share with you next week details of one of their projects.)

As for the boys, Tao is now old enough to understand what we mean when we start talking about ‘going back to our home in Israel’. That doesn’t necessarily make it easy for him, but at least he knows what to expect when our last day in Portugal arrives. For Ollie, on the other hand, however much we talk about it over the last few days, our leaving comes as a shock. Needless to say, this makes saying goodbye even harder. Thank goodness we have the option of video calls to soften the blow.

Also designed to soften the blow for Ollie is a job Bernice and I have set ourselves. Several years ago, we gave Tao a book of nursery rhymes – all 74 of them – which has now become Ollie’s absolute favourite. The book is illustrated with lively watercolours, full of charming and often humorous detail. These illustrations are clearly part of the appeal of the book for Ollie, but his main enjoyment comes from the songs, to which he listens, and with which he joins in, albeit selectively, with rapt attention, Throughout this latest visit, it was only rarely that Bernice or I could escape without singing or reciting every single rhyme and song in the book, and there were days when we were each reciting it three or more times.

Before we left, I photographed the Contents pages, and we plan to make a video in which we share working our way through the entire book. Micha’el will then be able to set it up on a loop for Ollie. No substitute for seeing Nana and Grandpa live in concert, but, we hope, an acceptable second best.

As I have often remarked, part of what makes our stay in Penamacor special is that it is nothing special; instead, we become part of the daily routine and rhythm of family life. However, we seem to have adopted two traditions which we try to honour on each trip. The first of these is that the two of us get a ‘date day’, when we go out by ourselves. I don’t want anyone getting the wrong idea about this romantic rendezvous. This time, we visited a hypermarket and Decathlon in Castelo Branco, hunting for various items of clothing, household goods and toys, on a shopping expedition for which the boys would not have had the patience.

After a successful morning, we retired for lunch to our usual vegan restaurant, where the regular ritual was observed. A waiter who has started work since our last visit asks us whether this is our first visit to the restaurant. I wittily point out that we go back further with the restaurant than he does. He then explains the lunch ‘concept’ of the restaurant: a soup, a main course consisting of a tasting platter of four dishes, the exact nature of which is determined by whatever was ready to harvest at the restaurant’s smallholding that morning, and a choice of three desserts. As always, the vegetable soup was delicate, subtly seasoned and excellent, the mains (in this case, a burger, a hot cabbage dish, couscous with pomegranate seeds and a lettuce and melon salad) were all very tasty, and offered a range of textures and flavours, and the desserts were, I’m guessing, all rather over-sweet and lacking in texture. However, the vegan espresso was much better than I anticipated. In all, the food, service, ambience, and smooth jazz soundtrack were all very much to our taste, and the bill was no less pleasant for being less of a surprise than the first time we went there.

Our second outing is a day out with the boys. This time, an online search for local activities suitable for families with younger children yielded a pedagogical farm, curiously located in Fundao, a large town about 40 minutes’ drive from Penamacor. Tslil phoned the day before to confirm that the farm was indeed open for individuals, and so, one day last week, off we set, arriving at the farm at 11. It’s fair to say that our expectations were not overly high, not least because Talil had established that admission was free for children under six and 1.50 euros for adults (1.50 each, I hasten to add).

On our arrival we were greeted by two women, one of whom spoke better English than she had indicated on the phone. She chatted with us, and particularly with Tao, who explained that he was trilingual, having acquired Portuguese in ‘school’, and that he had lived in Penamacor since he was a baby. Her colleague, she explained, runs the onsite bakery where, I believe, they use their home-grown wheat, milled in their own watermill, to bake their own bread. The farm apparently offers group workshops that explore this process in depth. A few minutes later, another employee, whose English was very good, arrived. He took my money (such as it was) and explained that the farm is laid out on a circular route, which we were free to walk around by ourselves.

Meanwhile, the boys had been playing in the small playground, despite the slide having been soaked from the previous night’s heavy rain. Fortunately, the weather that day was bright and sunny. We collected the boys and set off on our adventure. Over the next hour, we stopped at various small animal enclosures, housing in turn, a horse (“Big!”), a donkey and a long-haired pony (“Aaaah!”), two goats, two pigs. A much larger enclosure contained a couple of sheep and, rather incongruously, a deer and an ostrich, who was singularly displeased with our presence. We also saw dogs, rabbits and geese (also less than delighted to see us).

A largish pond featured a quaint wooden bridge and two artificial fountains. The stream feeding the pond powered the watermill (or, more accurately, didn’t power it while we were there.) In all, there was enough to keep the boys very engaged for a good hour, at the end of which we drove to a nearby park that we had visited a couple of years ago with Tao. The park boasts an excellent jungle gym playground, where we were struck by how Tao has grown in confidence in the last year. Ollie is still very much at the very young end of the playground’s age range, but he still thoroughly enjoyed himself.

After all this walking, running, climbing and sliding, we were ready for lunch, and went to a nearby vegan restaurant that we had visited once before. The owner was very ready to accommodate the boys’ needs, and they in their turn were very patient during the inevitable waiting time. Bernice and I have always said (since our own children were toddlers) that it is wonderful if you can take children out to a restaurant confident that they understand the difference between being at home and being out. Our grandsons certainly do.

The two boys slept soundly on the drive home. Grandpa would have been happy to join them, having scaled the heights of the spider’s web rope frame at the park, determined not to be outdone by a five-year-old. Fortunately, Nana was on hand to make sure Grandpa stayed fully alert as we wove our way home through the countryside.

And there you have it: the highlights of our month. Time to go home, make our month’s absence up to Raphael (and his parents), catch up with friends, reimmerse ourselves in the madness that is life in Israel, and recuperate, gathering up strength for our next trip. As I may have mentioned before, Bernice and I keep reminding each other that we are truly blessed.