Travel |
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Janet Vogel Perkins
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The flight to Faro, Portugal took 2 l/2 hours. We were bussed to Auto Jardim - Portugal's answer to Hertz. We piled into the Peugeot 505 which was less than pristine. Two seat belts were inoperable, back doors didn't open from the inside, etc. Still it got us to Luz without trouble. Once there we tried to follow the directions to Casa Amendoeira. After accosting workmen and trying every road, we were without a clue as to the whereabouts of this villa. After wandering about for two hours, these same workmen set us on the correct road and there it was - an oasis in the desert - gleaming white with pale terracotta rounded tiles; deep fuschia bouganvillia cascading over the roof and tiles; covered terrace extending across the front of the house; swimming pool beckoning in the shade of an almond tree. (The house is named for this almond tree which was here before the house was built.)
The interior was just as beautiful. Marble hallway; spotless tiles; spacious rooms, all tastefully furnished. At this point, I must inform the reader that this particular corner of Portugal is very popular with English ex-patriates and English is spoken everywhere. The Porguese language sounds like a mixture of Arabic , Spanish and Russian. We went beaching in Burgau, a village not far from Luz - lovely beach despite the icy waters of the Atlantic. The tide caught us and we scrambled to retrieve our things with the help of an ex-Gloucester chap. Nearby is the Sierra de Monchique, a mountain range north of Portimao. We stopped first at Caldas da Monchique, once a famous resort spot. The hotel and casino are now craft stalls and restaurant. Coach loads of Portuguese families came to picnic and to fill bottles with spa waters. The streets were cobbled and shady - ladies in black, men in work clothes with black hats or berets. Off to Praia da Ingrine, a little beach off the road from Raposeira. Leaving Luz, the road ends at the place where a new road is under construction. This is the only country we've visited where you drive on roads while they are being built - with rust dust everywhere and sometimes behind the monster machines carving out the new roads. Up early only to sit in traffic to Lagos - smelly and hot - then a search for a parking space. We took a motorlaunch to the grottos. The rock formations were impressive. The small beach was sparsely popuplated but the waters were clear and blue. Some of the old city walls were still visible. After landing, we picnicked under the shadow of an old Moorish wall and then visited the Igreja da Santa Marie. This was the old slave market which now hosts craft stalls. Off to Cape St. Vincent. This is the Fim do Mondo, (end of the world) which houses Europe's most powerful lighthouse. It sends beams 60 miles out to sea. Then on to the Sagres headland, the headquarters of Prince Henry's navigation school and his home. It has been generally left to go to ruin. No one is cashing in on tourism yet - no admission charge but also no preservation of sites. Silves - ancient Mooorish capital of "el Gharb." The Cathedral of Santa Marie was cool and beautiful. My daughter, Laura, was intrigued with the confessional which she thought was a puppet theatre. When she was told that a priest goes in and listens to people, she said, "He goes in and comes out and says 'Surprise.'" A gray day but we weren't fooled. Off we went to the west coast to explore a new beach. On to Prai de Castelejo via a little road with an uncomfortable drop on one side. The hills and trees were blackened and scorched. The beach was extensive. The rock formations were imposing covered with mussels. We set off to explore yellow roads out of Mexilhoeira Grande into the foothills of the Sierra de Monchique. We passed orange groves, the odd cluster of fig trees, ploughed fields ready for planting, hay gathered into stacks, dilapidated farm buildings and fabulous villas. Found a lovely restaurant "tipico" with tables under a pine tree and umbrellas. On the TV inside, was a five year old episode of "Neighbors" with Portuguese sub-titles. On we went through an area of cork trees and harvests of cork bark. Dinner on our terrace tonight and then on to Hotel del Lago for Algarvian dancing. The hotel is very posh, except for its under-sized and over-priced drinks. In walked the dancers with accordians. There were four couples. Each dance was very fast with rapid foot movements. The lead man was a shorter, chubbier version of Burt Reynolds. He was very lively, leading the singing and cueing the accordian and triangle band as to which dance was next. The men wore perched-on-the head black hats, black trousers, white shirts, grey vests and black cummerbunds. The ladies wore little black hats with flowery scarves underneath, plain blouses, aprons around the plain skirts with ribbon trim, white leggings, short pantaloons and lace-up boots. After a half hour or so, it was rope-in-the audience time. Everybody joined in and ended in a conga line weaving through the hotel and around the pool. Great fun - Portuguese style. Off to Praia Zavial which we decided was the # 1 beach. Lots of space, sandy bottom and gentle waves. At the far end, we came upoon the nude beach. We all thought that these people probably looked better clothed, especially the German lady lying prone on the sand with her arm in a cast sticking up at right angle to the rest of her in a peculiar kind of salute. We all agreed that using our own pool at the end of every day was a blessing. Do take a closer look at the picture and see for yourself. If you're lucky and can find it - visit the Algarve area of Portugal - you won't be sorry.
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