This morning, after a disturbed night, not from the cockerel, but continuing barking dogs, who eventually lost their voices at eight o' clock this morning. How does that work? Never the less, the morning was bright, warm and clear, and with the dogs soon forgotten, we could breath in the fresh air of the Serra, and marvel at the scene that surrounded us. From the van in front of us, emerged a French couple, each with a large bag in hand. Were they going for an early morning swim? Surely not, the outdoor pool was not heated. Upon their return, John had deduced that they may have been for a shower, as on the internet it had stated there were hot showers available. We'd already discounted this as perhaps a comment being put on by a nearby campsite owner. The French lady assured us there were indeed showers. With the thought of hot water, and not having to dry out Marge's bathroom area, John set off in pursuit of them. After some enquiries he found them alongside the public toilets. Who'd have thought in a tiny hilltop town, such a facility would be available, and not just one shower, but two, in each the ladies and the gents. Result!
Today we were off to Albuferia, where Angela's sister in law Sandra, and her sister, Gloria, were staying at the Balaia Golf Village. They'd only arrived late last night, so we were not sure if we would meet up with them today or tomorrow.
John had found a place we could stay overnight at Sao Rafael beach, so we headed there for lunch, stopping on route at the local Lidl. Oh God. What had happened to Portugal, it had been transported to Essex! We are used to a smattering of English people amongst the Portuguese. The whole shop was just full of English, easily spotted not so much from their accents, but their shopping trolleys piled high with cheap lager, and numerous bottles of Lidl's equivalent to Mateus Rose. We've been used to a more tranquil life, being Jonny foreigner, now we were part of the clan. Quick, get the shopping, and leave!
Sao Rafael beach was lovely, with its unique rock formations, warm white sand, thunderous sea, and obviously sun worshippers. Worryingly, a lot of the sun lovers were English, fresh from their Ryanair flight, deprived of sun in England, going for it large. Oh dear, there was going to be a lot of very lobster, sunburnt English this evening.
After lunch, we contacted Angela's sister in law, and being only fifteen minutes away, we arranged to go over and visit her and her and sister. Hastily, rifling in our clothes cupboard for clean shorts and T-shirts, after deciding eau de hand wash, was not to everyones taste, we took Marge across town, which was a bit of a shock. We were in full blown holiday land. Don't panic Marge, we'll find somewhere quiet for you this evening, hopefully. The Balaia Golf Village was very nice, set amongst the shade of the pine trees. We enjoyed a few hours catching up, and it seemed a little strange visiting someone who lived under two hours away from us at home. Sandra and Gloria's flight from Bournemouth had been less than three hours, Marge had taken four weeks to arrive here, but what a fantastic four weeks it has been. We reflected on life, the fact it can wear you away, but not to let it, otherwise you will realise you have done nothing with it.
A couple of views from the cliff top at tonight's halt.
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