Guest blog by: Henry Jelinek
The Portuguese province of Alentajo lies east/southeast of Lisbon. It is a beautiful and unspoiled region of Portugal. Storks build their nests on roof tops in whitewashed villages. Small hamlets and towns, many with Roman remains and fortified castles, are located on scenic hilltops surrounded by beech wood, olive groves, grape vines and cork oak trees.
The Alentejo region is home to the worlds greatest cork forests. Thousands of cork trees flourish down the mountain sides, in the valleys, among grazing cattle and sheep, on public and private lands, and around small lakes, streams and rivers. These unique trees are virtually found in every area of the province and are cherished by the citizens for their economic, environmental, and ecological benefits.
In the summer of 1968, while working in a cork processing factory in Faro, the capital city of the Algarve province of southern Portugal, I had the opportunity to visit Alentejo and participate in the harvesting of cork trees. It was a perfect opportunity to learn first hand how cork trees are stripped of their bark without damage to the trees. I was excited at the prospect.
In an old Citron, we set out early Wednesday morning heading north into the heart of Alentejo. Our group consisted of Jose Morgado, the owner of the factory where I was apprenticing who became a close friend of mine, Pedro the expert in recognizing the quality of the cork as it comes off the trees, the driver Armando who knew the best routes to the forests, and myself. Portugal in 1968 was the poorest country in Western Europe and the roads we traveled were proof of that. Whether true or not, in those days the claim was that the roads were made windy so construction would take longer keeping unemployment down by having road crews building longer roads.
After about three hours of meandering through the countryside Armando found a small dirt path and slowly bumped and maneuvered the Citron for perhaps 10 km off the main roadway passing through perpetual cork oak forests. Much to my surprise we arrived at a small village nestled on a rugged hilltop. It was impossible to traverse further by automobile, even within the village. Villagers sitting in a central coffee shop drinking thick espresso waved to our group as we set out on foot carrying only bottled Luso mineral water. It was a pleasant day with light breezes struggling to keep us cool and although we did have to climb down and over some rough terrain we managed without too much difficulty.
The plan was to spend the night in the terrain. I kept asking where we would sleep and how we would manage without bringing food. My Portuguese companions simply answered, “You will soon see.” We crossed over streams, rounded a small lake, and climbed up a steep hill from where we could see for several kilometers in all directions. Although cork trees were gr
owing everywhere, the forests are not thick allowing for grazing or growing other crops around the trees. From a distance cork trees are difficult to distinguish from olive trees, although they are usually larger in size. It was amazing to me to see these trees flourishing in the reddish dry soil. Jose explained that the semi-arid climate of the Alentajo combined with the salty breezes from the distant ocean produce just the correct environment for cork oaks to thrive in. Although cork oaks are found in countries surrounding the Mediterranean Sea, there is no other region of the world with soil and climate as perfectly harmonized and balanced and accommodating for cork oaks to flourish in.
Every cork tree we walked by had a number from 0 to 9 clearly spray painted in white on the trunk. These numbers indicated the year in which the last stripping of the tree took place. For example, the trees with the number 3 written on them designated they had been harvested in 1963. Cork trees can only be stripped of their bark every nine years. Since it was 1968 that year only trees with the number 9 (indicating the last stripping was in 1959) could be harvested that year. Pedro, the expert quality man with us, explained that sometimes the harvest can take place beyond the minimum nine year cycle but never before. If the bark is stripped off the trees too soon it could damage the trees and also the raw material would not be of good enough quality for use in production of cork products. The harvesting cycles are not only controlled by the government but experts such as Pedro are able to tell if bark is not nine years of growth.
After about a twenty minute hike we began to hear noises in the near distance. Through the trees I first spotted a couple of donkeys standing in the shade beneath a cork oak, observing our approach with their normal sad faces. As we neared the area of activity I saw perhaps eight or ten men, some high on ladders among the branches of the trees. These men were clearly country folk, their tanned skin dark and etched by years of hard work. All carried machetes which, I later learned, were razor sharp. When they saw us they waved their greetings. The harvesting of the cork oak trees had begun earlier that morning and I was excited to be an observer.
It was explained that cork harvesting takes place during the summer months. Cork is the 
outer bark of the tree and this bark is most easily stripped off the trees during hot or warm weather when the cells holding the bark to the trunk are more fragile and therefore allow for cleaner and easier stripping. But as I observed, it is not easy work and must be done expertly to avoid damage to the trees. Using their machetes, the men cut vertical incisions through the bark along the trunk and the larger branches of the trees. They must be very careful not to cut too deeply otherwise they would damage the membrane beneath the bark which the trees still need to transport nou
rishment to the rest of the tree. Once the incision is made, a hatchet or small wedge is used to begin peeling the bark away from the trunk. This is not easy work and takes skill to peel away in large slabs. The men compete to see who can remove the largest slab of bark without breaking into many small pieces. The larger slabs allow for more production diversification and therefore are more valuable. I noted that the average bark slab reached more or less to my chest. Of course the smaller limbs produce smaller sizes. Jose told me that all the bark must not be stripped from a tree. Bark covering the smaller branches must be left to allow the tree to continue to flourish. Once the bark is peeled off the tree the color of the exposed trunk and branches is eye-catching. It is a bright orange color, nearly fluorescent, and makes the trees look “naked”. After the workmen completed stripping one tree and moved to attack the next, they painted the number 8 on the “naked” tree indicating that the cork off that tree was harvested in 1968.
I saw Jose and Pedro closely inspecting the bark as it came off the trees. They were looking at the quality of the cork …. density, thickness, cracks or other imperfections … to establish a fair 
price for that particular crop. Jose explained that much like grape harvests for wines, there are good years and bad years of cork harvests which can vary from region to region and, in fact, the cork raw material from any one forest is eventually sorted into various qualities and thicknesses as well. Different qualities and thicknesses of bark are used for different productions of cork items. That particular day Jose and Pedro were simply ascertaining the overall quality of that particular harvest. The smiles on their faces that late morning clearly indicated 1968 was a good harvest year in the Alentejo.
The cork slabs were piled onto wagons which would later be pulled by the donkeys out of the forest. Each wagon had two very large wooden wheels making it easier to roll over the rugged terrain. It was all hard work for both the harvesters and donkeys. Things have not changed much over the following decades. The trees are still stripped manually using the same machetes and hatchets, and the cork slabs continue to be loaded by hand. The only difference today is that instead of wagons drawn by donkeys, harvesters use motorized tractors to pull the wagons (rubber wheels) out of the forests.
During the summer months, Alentejo is very dry and very hot. Temperatures can rise over 40 degrees Celsius bringing most work to a halt for much of the afternoon. Afternoons are siesta time in the Alentejo cork forests. Our group of harvesters found shade under the oaks and seemed to fall quickly but comfortably asleep.
The Alentejo cork oak woodlands are protected by law and under the Portuguese reforestation program Portugal’s cork forests are growing by an average of four percent per year. It is said that at any given time there is enough cork to last another century.
Besides being the source of cork raw material and grazing livestock, these forest lands continue to be a haven for wildlife protecting hundreds of species of birds, animals, and plants. That summer day in 1968 during the siesta time I learned how some of this wildlife was used to help energize the work crews.
Birds are abundant amidst the rolling, flower-filled grasslands and cork forests and are cherished by the locals. Endangered and rare species are especially respected and appreciated. Smaller birds such as finches and thrushes migrate to the cork forests from northern Europe and are plentiful.
As everyone settled down for siesta, Armando and one of the younger harvesters beckoned me to follow them down the hillside to a small lake in the distance. Along the way Armando told me that we were going to catch some birds for dinner.
“Catch birds?” I questioned in disbelief, “But how? And eat them for dinner? How?”
Both men smiled. “We will show you.”
Once we reached the lake they removed a number of small devices from their knapsack. Each was perhaps 5 cm in length, with a little spring attached to a tiny noose. I learned this was a bird trap. Armando told me to find some flying ants.
“Why flying ants?” I inquired.
“Because flying ants have wings and the sunshine will reflect off the wings as the ant tries to escape. This will make the ant more visible to the small birds in this area as they fly by.”
I was perplexed but followed the instructions and soon found some flying ants beneath a rotting eucalyptus log. Very carefully we placed the head of the ant through the small noose of the trap and gently tightened it until the ant could not escape. The young harvester then triggered the spring on the trap and placed it along the waters edge with the ant flapping its wings. This same procedure was repeated with all the other traps. Once these tasks were done it became clear that it was time for our own siesta and we too found a shady area close to the lake and quickly fell asleep. Perhaps an hour later I was awakened by Armando and as I sat up I was startled to see that the young harvester was carrying a long string of small assorted birds up the hillside. “A good dinner tonight,” Armando said. “It is time to cook.”
By the time we reached camp it was already dusk. The other men had several small fires going and some were holding large frying pans over the fires in which some sort of lard was being melted. We were greeted warmly by the men as if we had returned from a major hunting trip. Our catch was divided among several of them.
I watched in amazement as the small birds were prepared for cooking. The birds were plucked and the beaks were clipped. Other then that they were not gutted. The birds were then placed into the boiling lard. After perhaps ten minutes they were ready to eat. Each one was pl
aced on a piece of bread and handed out, the bread slice serving as a plate. When I was given mine I was very skeptical. I had no idea how to eat the bird or if I even wanted to. I watched the others. They would pick the bird up and begin chewing the outer parts leaving the innards untouched, intermittently taking a bite of the bread and a sip of red wine distributed from a small barrel in a large cork spoon. The cork spoons were carved by the harvesters from the cork bark that had be stripped from the “elbow” of a small cork tree branch. Since I was a guest I felt obligated to at least taste the birds. Jose smiled encouragement as I began to chew. I expected to find bones but there were none. In fact the taste was pleasant and the bread soaked with the juices was succulent. The local red wine completed an unforgettable meal. There were second and third helpings all around.
By the time dinner was over it was beginning to darken rapidly. The fires were safely extinguished. I noticed that the men had made several small piles of the larger cork bark slabs which had been harvested earlier that day. I now realized that these slabs were being used by the harvesters to construct teepee like formations that would be used as private sleeping quarters for the next few days. The bark would act as a natural insulator keeping the heat out and maintaining a coolness within during the hot days. As I lay down for the night in my own cork “teepee”, after drinking my last few sips of wine from the cork spoon, I realized that I had just experienced an unforgettable day in the Alentejo and that cork would run in my blood from that day on.
o along with it?
on who has everything - how about a cork umbrella! Yup - they exist and they work beautifully.
