Hey, all! We’re back!
This is our “Christmas” trip this year (as in “we’re not buying stuff this year for Christmas, instead we’re going to…”
This year, in part due to some resort weeks bought by K (I’m going to stick with initials, to hide but identify the guilty) and there was a spot here when we wanted to come.
For those of you whose Portuguese geography is shaky, “the Algarve” the region of southern Portugal from Gibraltar to the southwest corner (where we went today) all along the Atlantic.
Here’s today’s money shot (for the thumbnail) taken at Cabo St. Vincente, which is almost, but not quite, on the southwest tip of Portugal, or, as the sign said “Where Europe Begins.” 😂
The place was beautiful and pretty exotic: it is amazing to us Americans from places with trees and greenery to go to place as dry and desolate as this. As someone pointed out on the ride home (obviously after sunset) that there were no lights! And no trees down on the southwest corner of Portugal: the little town, which is full of surf shops (we only saw one surfboard near the water), is Sagres, and the fort there, see the picture link, is Fortressa de Sagres. It is huge and imposing and cool and has seemingly never been attacked! I don’t doubt no one has ever actually wanted the place. :)
This was day one. We have to start with the trip and the place.
Start with the stress of the weather and planes as we weren’t sure till Friday morning if Ee could get out of DFW because of the storm there. In the end, he had little trouble — the plane was 40 minutes late, but we survived.
For reasons that do not bear explaining, we (the other 3 of us) got to the airport almost 4 hours before our midnight flight — so early there was no one working the desk to check people in yet when we got there. :)
The flight, on Portugal’s airline, TAP, from Newark to Lisbon was brutal. The pilot said “we have clear sailing” and then proceeded to spend the next 6 hours hitting every bit of turbulence across the Atlantic. 😝 K said it was the worst she’d ever experienced. Then there was the service — unlike every other flight to London or Dublin, the staff didn’t bother offer drinks other than those with the food, nor did they bother pick up the trash! La di da! K got one of them to tell her that they were going home, so…
It was the weakest customs check in history — there was no line!
Then there was the brief stress of the Enterprise desk. First, the kiosk didn’t recognize the number. The staff person came and helped and couldn’t find it. She had a printout and there was my name with a different number — that didn’t work! Then I was sent to the person at a desk, Michellene, who had to search by name. Meanwhile, the two guys in front of me didn’t get a car, the guy to my left, an American (you’ll see it) was complaining that he had been double charged for something (EE said it was clearly his fault) and the woman to my right couldn’t find her record either.
EE was standing next to me (he’s on as a driver) as I was handed the receipt and told “go out that door, to the next building, to the second floor, and someone who get you your car.” There was one false start up an escalator, then around, through a habitrail, and then up an elevator.
The guy who handed me the keys said “see that car at the end…” pointing to a Toyota Midget, “oh, no, that’s your car, it’s the one next to it” behind a post. Right.
We found the car, a perfectly reasonable Toyota C-HR, a hybrid mid SUV, in a lovely red. It’s fine.
EXCEPT — first, if you don’t have your seatbelts on even in the back, it goes nuts, the ping ping ping getting faster and faster and louder and louder. With four of us, there’s been annoyance. Then there’s the speed warning — even one mph over the suspected speed and it beeps. We’ve figured out how to turn it off, but it only turns it off for that trip. ):
The drive from the airport to the condo was 2 and a half hours (you know how much the car beeped 😡). The shysters who sold K the weeks only sent one email to tell us how to check in. There was an address that was linked. It gave us two places, about .2 apart. We chose number one and it didn’t look like an office. So, we drove to the other, drove up to the gate and were rudely told that “we’re not even open, this isn’t the right place.” Thanks for the help. We went back to the first place, went in and…
Okay, one of the features on the plane’s entertainment system was PracticePortuguese. So, with EE besides me (the embarrassment factor was important :)) I decided to practice my Portuguese. This was made better (or worse) as the person spoke in English when we came in. I tried my best “I speak little English” and she said “I don’t know what you are trying to say.” I tried again. “Oh my god” EE mumbles. “I don’t know…” she looked desperately for him for help. I asked if we had a reservation there and she said, yes, this is what she said, “no, we don’t have ANYONE checking in today, so no.” I showed her the one email and she knew right where it was and said (good tip) “this was rotary 2 and they are off rotary 4, take the right off of it and past the golf clubhouse and there’s parking there and go in there”
And she was right. Carlos, at the desk there, was great and we got in and the condo is good, with a golf course right here. It has a patio with a table.
After checking in, M went to bed. The other three of us went for groceries — another adventure that included be stuck at the self checkout twice! (Alcohol!)
Then to a place Ee found called the Cheeky Pub (it is NOT Portuguese, despite the local) and had a great dinner, with better desserts. (We’re going back tonight)
Here’s Ian’s pork cheek.
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