Ruins, Castles & Wineries (Dia Dose*)

 *PracticingPortuguese

Day 2 begins with a recount of post-blog post Day 1: we returned, almost too late (the waiter seemed annoyed), to the Cheeky Pup (Pup, not Pub, as I nominated it first in y’day’s post) for dessert and drinks. 

There were two highlights: my brownie and ice cream (pictured later for thumbnail purposes) had something in it which shocked me! It was a bit crunchy and spicy.  I then noticed it had these little red beads in the custard! Then went a voyage of discovery with M & K trying them, eventually Ee did too, then searching online, then asking the waiter, who had to ask another waiter.  They were some kind of pink peppercorn.  Who knew?

 This led to #2: M (in full Encyclopedia Hicks mode) says “tastes like something between a black peppercorn and anise” and I made a silly joke, asking if you had meant to say “anus” (😃😂) to which, first I was told that was infantile, THEN I was told “you know, not free things are free.  Like this trip.  The suffering through your jokes might not be worth it.”  

There were moments of near pants wetting on that one.  We discussed a free week in Portugal v Dad jokes and I admitted that maybe that wasn’t enough, maybe i would give her a couple hundred when we got home to assuage her pain and suffering. 😂😂😂

Although we did not get out fo the condo “early” as we all said we would this morning, we got out for a latish breakfast.  I found this pizzeria near the ruin that served pastries and coffee and omelettes (and a full English).  That was good. 

Then to the next stop, Google map “five minutes away” (you know what that means :))

This stop was recommended by Josh’s in-laws, who spent some time here last year.  It is the Vila at Cerra, a Roman ruin.  There is a lot of excavation done & it’s a huge place.  I always love their tile mosaic. 

Although a bit scanty on details, the site was well done; there were some Portuguese to English translation issues — like the workers’ homes were found to have “fish units” in them (pieces?).  Fish units.  

We never got a sense of the date of the vila (or I missed the appropriate sign), but it was interesting that it was depicted with a dock and it was not on the water, though there was a marina across the street.  🤔

From there to our next stop, about half hour away.  This was the Castle of Silves — this is the best Moorish building in the Algarve, so we covered history from the Romans to the Moors.  

You start at Silves with a wow of how big it is sitting on the top of the hill. Here’s my photo from inside looking east to give you an idea. 

And here’s a shot of the courtyard. You can see the red brick walls that it is made of in the pic.  It’s the dominant feature.

But, I skipped the “highlight.” We weaved through one lane, one way streets in the rental car that loves to go “beep”, not finding a parking place.  Finally I found one, EE claimed in front of the police station.  :)

It was straight uphill for about 200 yards (different people have different versions of this distance) toward the castle.  K broke into a coughing fit, then M broke into a bit of an asthma attack.  I was not fine.  Ee, on the other hand, claimed it was “nothing.’ :).  After water bottles, and sits, and more of both, we survived.  But it was gruesome.  There was some thought Ee might inherit today. ):

BTW, one feature of Silves is a large number of storks.  They sit in nexts on the lamp posts, on the electric towers, some trees…and they float around A LOT.  Weird.  But one of the features of the place.

It was about 3 o’clock and the gang wanted more.  K suggested a winery and there were several highly rated on TripAdvisor within 10kms.  We shot off for one, with no damage to the car. :)

The name of the place was Capitas, which is Portuguese for little goat.  They used to have a little goat on their labels as a logo.  We have no idea why they stopped, given it seemed clever.  

We were the only ones there and 3 did a “classic tasting” for 10euros and liked all the wines enough we bought 3 bottles (there’s no way it is going home…but we’ll see how that works out).

BTW, the place is covered with citrus trees.  At Capitas, on two sides they were bordered by citrus groves.  There was discussion if they were oranges or lemons — they were yellowy color — but I got close enough to see they were just not quite orange oranges.  

Dinner

Dinner was NOT at a place called Free Willy, it was actually called New Mr Freddy’s.  Freddy was Fred Astaire.  He was on all the walls. 

Their specialty was Jorger.  Whatever that is.  None of us got any of the possibilities cooked that way. :)

The highlight of the meal was our waiter, who chatted us up from the beginning (initially we were the only ones there) and started by recommending a very good, inexpensive Portuguese white wine (it was wine day). 

I am going to picture Ee’s meal, tiger prawns, because it isn’t something you see often.  They were cooked so that you were supposed to eat the shell; he didn’t. :)

M had lamb shank; K had seafood linguini, and I had the mushroom risotto.  It was all good.  And we had dessert — chocolate mousse and crème brûlée, also not pictured. 

Our waiter was chatty.  He told us he didn’t work there, we thought joking, then found out it was his god-daughter’s new restaurant and he was helping out. His English was quite good and we wanted to know where we were from.  He said he loved America and dreamed of going there, driving Route 66 in a red mustang, with country music on the radio.  He didn’t tell us his name, until finally showing us on his phone that his name was Serban, who ironically was Rumanian, not Serbian.  He gave us port made with cherries to show his love (it was not too sweet and very good) and we left with a new friend. 

Epilogue:

Having tried to get us back without Google maps, we were lost and got into a conversation about lamb shank, then lambs, then sheep, then somehow “Jesus was the lamb of God” and I said something about never getting to be a sheep.  I was told that I was now in deep debit when I got to St. Peter’s Gate, compounding what I’m told is my deficit from bad dad jokes.  I of course tell them that I get St. Peter credit for the ones i DONT tell, but they are iffy.  But I’m trouble now for saying “Sheep of God.” :)

And on that note, I say good night.  Maybe goodbye, because there’s talk of a cliff side long walk tomorrow.  Fingers crossed. 

Extras:

For John’s sake, again, I picture the full English, which lacked the advertised black pudding. 

And the brownie:

Note red beads in the custard.