41, 42 and 43
What can I say?
We were going to take the bus over to Sagras to see a historical sight and the cliffs... but the beach here is just so nice, and life is so slow, we just couldn't seem to get motivated to do it.
Think about it: a half hour bus ride to walk to a pile of rocks, some cliffs, another lighthouse, historical plaques... or walking right out of the door, down the beach and just hanging out.
It was a no-brainer.
We were thinking about taking a hike... ended up on the beach instead.
I have been barefoot full time for three days now, and I was thinking about putting on my sandals so we could go to a slightly more upscale restaurant...
Oh, what the hell.
Who are these people, demanding shoes anyway? Screw 'em.
Barefoot.
Three whole days.
Full time.
Long, slow, lazy days...
So the general thing that has happened for three days (Sunday, Monday and Tuesday) is that we have been hanging out on the beach. Sleep, read, swim, listen to the iPod, repeat.
We get up late - well, Gail gets up late while I go walking on the beach in the mornings, then drink coffee at the one cafe - and we barely make breakfast each day.
Because we eat so late in the morning, and lay around on the beach all day, we aren't really hungry, so we just return to our room around 18:00 for wine and a snack.
Then we head out to a late dinner at a different place each night.
And that is how we have spent our first four days in Portugal.
Love it here.
Here are the "outstanding moments" in the past three days:
The first day on the beach we went way down the east side, and had a whole, huge area just to us. The tide was coming in, and we were asleep, but a kind lady walking by woke us up before the waves hit us.
I heard about, and found, real dinosaur tracks. Really. In the rocks at the west end of the beach (see photo, click on the link).
Yup.
Dinosaur tracks.
Not faint tracks, but real, easily identifiable tracks, nine in a row where the whatever-a-saurus plodded along how many hundreds of millions of years ago.
Unless you don’t “believe” in science, in which case it was like 5000 years ago, just after creation.
If you believe in pseudo-science stuff like that, you would be right at home where we live, along with the kook-a-mongas who are pushing the contrail conspiracy. See the links for entertainment.
I am ashamed to say I live around these people.
Dimwits.
Same damn people who want to see Obama's birth certificate, same people who are such experts that they "know" that climate change is not happening...
However, I am not above making money from these idiots. Good time to buy stock in the Reynolds Aluminum Foil Company. I may just make the hats myself, and sell them with spray bottle of vinegar, labeled as “survival kits.”
Moving on…
Saturday night in the big city: the (six) girls are out in their ultra-mini skirts, tripping up the cobblestone street to the bar, wearing six inch spiked high heels. They would look really sexy except for the wobbling, ankle turning, clomping as they try, but fail, to negotiate the uneven streets. They trip and prance up the street, stumble and clomp down the street, then parade clumsily back up and down again; shocking orange heels with a black skirt, strappy black spikes with a white mini, the color contrasts are as outrageous as their hair.
We sit in the pizza place, by the window, watching the show.
Walking in the dark night on the beach, the city lights behind us, the waves doing that “glow in the dark” wave thing they do when they roll in, and a line of blue, blinking lights on the horizon, marking out the fishing boats. The lights bob up and down, seemingly suspended in midair.
Good seafood lasagna at the pizza place, surprising because it is such a generous portion and absolutely stuffed with shrimp, scallops, crab and salmon. The kicker is, a half litre of wine is one euro more than one glass of wine. How can you not order it?
Midday, the hot sun, warm sun on bare breasts and buns, the cooling breeze blows gently across skin cooled by a dip in the sea.
Is it our bare breasts and buns, or those of the people on the beach around us?
The great taste of early coffee at Solmar, just sitting at the empty table outside, or in the warmth of the cafe, watching the town slowly wake up. They open officially at 7:00, but I get coffee as early as 6:00 by slipping in the open door right behind some of the regulars. Now they don’t even ask, just make me a White Coffee (That's what he calls a café con leche). And I don’t ask back, I just plunk my €1 down on the counter and go sit with my cup of café.
The early mornings are always foggy, but down right on the water it is clear. The fog bank hovers about 25 feet up, making the sun dim until it hits a certain height.
The nights are clear and cool, silent.
The days are sunny and warm, hot if you are lying on the sand, until the breeze kicks up about 15:30.
A big tractor pulls and pushes the bigger fishing boats in and out off the beach. Some come in with fish, others with clay pots and octopi. I guess the octopus crawls into the clay pot and they pull him in.
One boat full of clay pots, came in, and they off-loaded seven blue flats of octopus. Stacked up on the back of the tractor, they fell over and crashed amid much swearing; the tractor guy fetched the fish truck while they threw the octopi back into the crates. I followed them up to the fishermans’ shed, where they all sit and talk, and watched them sort them out by size. Grey, limp octopus, just thrown here and there in crates.
The big daily event is sunrise, followed by breakfast and the walk to the beach.
Today is six weeks into the trip, two weeks and two days to go.
Depressing news.
Monday night we had a great dinner at the one fancy restaurant in town. Boy, were we out of place. Here we are in this casual beach town, hanging out on the beach all day, dressed casual and barefoot in the evenings, and we walk into a restaurant full of British tourists, all dressed in blazers and sweaters and slacks and coats and ties and long dresses.
So we sat at a table and had a nice meal, and watched the show.
I started with shrimps in a garlic and spicy pepper sauce, like the gambas pil pil in Spain. It was done differently, but tasted great. For the main I had a great rabbit dish, cooked in the style of coq a vin, slow cooked in a red wine sauce till it just fell off the bone.
Gail had chicken breast stuffed with goat cheese and sun dried tomatoes, and it was fantastic. She got a clay pot filled with vegetables with it.
For dessert we split lemon sorbet with berries, which looked yummy and tasted refreshing.
So, we didn't need to dress up and speak with a British accent to enjoy good food.
I bought and tried the Martha’s Port three pack. I am glad I did not just buy a bottle of port. The tawny was sharp and unrefined, the 10 year was a little more mellow but still sharp, while the white was not sharp but syrupy sweet.
I didn’t really like any of them.
Guess I’ll have to keep on trying ports until I find the right one.
Every morning at 8:00 the fresh bread truck shows up, beeping madly, and parks down by the cafe where I get coffee. A line forms.
Then about 8:15 or 8:30 another truck beeps into town, parking at the town “square” in front of the little place the fishermen hang out. This truck is selling fresh seafood, the stuff that the fishermen here don’t catch. As near as I can tell, when they leave they take out the day’s fresh catch as well.
This morning there is a dead octopus in the road.
Yes.
Obviously they need to put up one of those white and red “caution” signs, with an octopus in the middle.
Octopi Xing.
Overnight the wind shifted and is coming off the land now, a steady breeze all night. Walking the beach I find a hermit crab in a cool, spiral shell, and some nice big shells, mussels, starfish, and other ocean crap thrown up onto the sand. It is almost cold this morning, and the “white coffee” at Solmar felt good to hold in my hands.
I was the only one walking the beach this morning, and it was so peaceful.
We were at the beach early, and though the sand was blowing it wasn't bad. The water is so refreshing to swim in, the beach so warm to sleep on. We listened to my iPod all day again today, then late in the afternoon walked back to shower, stopped at the café for hamburgers and beer, then went to the guesthouse to drink wine and read.
Three days of sun and sand. No shoes.
I like Portugal.