Here is what I know about Portugal: Lancers Rose, Mateus, and Red or Tawny Port. My friend David Roth makes a killer White Port, but since he is in California, not Portugal, I don't think this counts as bonus points in the "Portugal Knowledge" game. Lots of beaches. And something about Christopher Columbus.
Let's go!
We took the 7:30AM bus to Lagos, Portugal.
The bummer is we had to choke down the awful hotel coffee this morning, and gag on a dry roll, instead of sitting in our little café.
The payoff is that we get to our destination two hours faster than if we took the later bus.
Two hours longer on a bus.
No breakfast.
It is a foggy cool morning as we catch the taxi to the Armas Bus Station. The sun is a dull, white disc; only 30 watts this morning.
We are on the Rock-N-Roll bus to Lagos; the Oldies “Soundtrack Of Your Life” rolling by at 120KMH down the freeway.
“You Are The Sunshine Of My Life” by Stevie Wonder. “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones. “If You Think I’m Sexy” by Rod Stewart.
That last one is a surprisingly popular hit in Spain. We have heard it every single day, here in the land of the short shorts and long endless legs.
This is a great bus, pretty new, comfortable seats and roomy. You just never know for sure with the bus. Best of all, as we go, people drop off the bus and we pick up no one, so the last hour of the trip there are just four of us on the entire bus. Smooth riding, wide highway, no one is puking on this trip.
Our first stop is about an hour into the trip, where we have ten minutes to slam a cafe con leche and hit the bathroom. Gail gets a lemon fizz.
We had to stop at the border so the police could peer at our passports, but that took all of one miniute.
We make such good time that we are actually ahead of schedule, and in time to catch the first bus out of Lagos to Salema. We don’t even have to wait to make the connection, just off, tickets, on and we are on the move again.
This is when public transportation is a dream.
So, four point five hours after leaving Sevilla, we are at our room in Salema, Portugal.
We have a really nice little room at Pension A Mare for the next four nights. The room is smaller, with a nice balcony, sea views and cooling breeze, and great places to just hang out. Perfect for us, really.
Our plan is to settle in, get some food, stop at the store for wine and snacks for the room, and hit the beach for the next couple days. This is a very small town, exactly two small grocery stores, one general store, ten restaurants, one realtor, one ATM. No pharmacy, no bank, no bakeries, no shops full of trinkets.
Not really much to do at all.
No beggars, no Roma, no nothing except the ocean.
Then there is the beach, a wide, sandy, south facing crescent, bordered by cliffs at both ends, on the dark blue Atlantic.
Salema is in the Algarve region of Portugal, which means we are right at the very south-west tip of Portugal. We are between Lagos and Sagras, the town name written very very small on the map, if it is there at all.
Nice.
We go to the more “snacky” place to eat (nine places to go…) and I get a bacon cheeseburger. Gail gets an egg sandwich. We have a bottle of gas water for a euro, a glass of wine for a euro, and a bottle of beer for a euro.
The burger was great.
Glass of wine for a euro.
Nice.
After walking the entire town twice to eat up ten minutes, we stop at grocery number 2 and each get a bottle of wine for the room. Gail’s white is perfect, just a regional “green” wine which means it is only a year old, and “perfect” according to her. My wine is a three wine blend of regional grapes: Touriga Nacional 40%, Castelão (30%) and Trincadeira (30%). It is a dark, dark ruby red, very full flavored, oak finish and is a 2012. The crazy thing is, the more expensive of these two bottles was €4, and we picked up two of the better wines available, judging by price.
I think this will be really nice.
We also got olives, bread, and cheese snacks.
After dropping our goods off in the refrigerator - well we sampled them, then dropped them off - we headed out to walk the entire beach. I just went barefoot because the beach is a block away, and besides, I had to really wash my Chacos. They are very grody and stink right now, after almost six weeks of continuous wear. So they are out drying in the sun while we walk.
It takes us a slow hour to walk all the way up the beach, then all the way down the beach. The sand is golden and fine, there are those pretty little brown-red-orange ribbed clam shells all over. The waves roll in slow and steady, the water is cool, “Cold” Gail says, but I think it is perfect.
We head out to dinner, and most the places are pretty packed. We go to one at the corner. The food sounds good, but is lifeless and tasteless. Even their wine isn't good. Bummer for the first meal.
So, if the wine keeps up, Portugal should be pretty good. If the food keeps up, we will probably starve to death.
I am hoping for an improvement.
At night you can see the blue lights on the boats in the harbor, bobbing up and down.
It is a beautiful effect, like blue winking stars in the pitch black night.