Blood Red Tide Floods Village Amidst Severe Drought

Last week, I witnessed a nearby village engulfed by a red wine flood that, in a matter of minutes, caused panic and wreaked havoc.

Though I've lived abroad for several years, being Portuguese, I've always had a deep connection to the land and its culture. As a child, I would help collect the precious grapes from my grandparents' vineyards.

I'd love stepping into the winepress with all the men and singing while we pressed the wine with our bare feet. So here, where I live, wine is part of us. It flows in our veins as a cultural heirloom.

So, for those of us who call this sun-kissed corner of the world home, the recent events in Portugal unfolded like a scene from a surreal dream, yet they couldn't have felt more real.

---

As the world grappled with the sobering reality of natural disasters and climate change, with a devastating earthquake in Morocco and floods in Greece and Libya making headlines, the story of a wine flood left the global community both baffled and amused.

For a moment, the world stopped talking about quakes, torrential rains, or flash floods; as the Anadia municipality found itself on global news.

The bursting of two gargantuan wine tanks at the Levira Distillery turned the quaint streets into a crimson river, sparking a viral sensation that flowed far beyond the town's borders.

Here in my country, the land is parched, the rivers are dwindling, and the vineyards are feeling the heat. So, the bursting of those wine tanks felt like a red alert about climate change.

I couldn't help but think about the Exodus, when Moses struck the river Nile with his staff and unleashed the first plague, turning its waters to blood. And just because an image is worth a thousand words, take a glimpse at the video below, and you'll see what I mean:

In no time, the "river" of wine flowing through the streets of Levira became a viral sensation on social media. A wine flood was a sight so surreal that even Salvador Dali would have raised an eyebrow.

Even if I understood the humor in the odd scene, I couldn't help but wonder if this was a wake-up call about the harm we're inflicting on Mother Nature.

Was it a quirky reminder that we live in a world where the absurd and the profound often collide? Or perhaps it was Mother Nature's way of saying,

"You humans, always taking yourselves so seriously. Here's a reminder that the universe has a sense of humor too."

---

While, I sit in a small bistro, savoring my coffee and watching the flow of the river that flows through my village. I can't help but be weighed down by the discussions and news stories revolving around climate issues.

Portugal, like the rest of the world, is facing evidence of a planet in distress. The recent devastating events in Greece and Libya serve as reminders that climate change is no longer a concern but a harsh reality that affects us directly.

The boundaries between seasons are starting to blur. Here, In Portugal, known for its Mediterranean climate, it has become increasingly difficult to ignore the signs of change. The relentless heat waves scorch the parched landscapes. The diminishing water reserves tell us how our world is warming rapidly.

The Portuguese Institute for Sea and Atmosphere (IPMA) alerted that at the end of August 2023, a staggering 97% of mainland Portugal was in the grip of a meteorological drought.

"According to the Palmer Drought Severity Index (PDSI) mainland Portugal at the end of August had 3% of its territory in the normal class, 11.9% in weak drought, 38.8% in moderate drought, 19.2% in severe drought and 27.1% in extreme drought. On August 31st, 97% of the territory was in a meteorological drought, of which 46% was in the severe and extreme drought classes."

As I read those statistics, I couldn't help but picture the vineyards of the Douro Valley, where the grapes that give us our beloved port wine were struggling to survive.

It was a sobering thought.

The month of August had been declared "extremely hot" in terms of air temperature, and "dry" when it came to precipitation. The once-familiar rhythm of our seasons seemed to have gone awry, leaving us in a state of disarray.

Closing thoughts

I've listened to the Levira townsfolk describe the event as a "red river," a "crimson deluge," or an "ocean of blood." A "great scare" like "nothing they had ever seen."

It was as if the universe had turned the tables on us, playing a prank that even the most famous Portuguese folklore character, "Zé Povinho," would have appreciated. I couldn't help but imagine him sipping wine by the riverbanks, chuckling at the irony.

As I browsed through social media, I stumbled upon memes and jokes. One meme showed a vineyard owner turning to the sky and shouting:

"I said 'rain,' not 'Port wine!"