Thursday, 5 August 2010
Benagil and the storkers
Nearly forgot about our birdwatching in Sives the other day. Perched on a rooftop getting ready to deliver some babies There is also the missing proof of Janets tan accentuated by her choice of this years shade of subtle orange. (Which is coincidentally the same as was in vogue seven years ago and every year in between )
Praia Grande
We are waiting to move in to our next luxury apartment, so it gives us a chance to udate things a bit. I am struggling to post photos but will have another bash.
We had a good day at Praia Grande yesterday A thoroughly quiet beach just inside the breakwater opposite Portimao. In fact we actually found the local beach around the headland and avoided the pay as you burn sunbeds, Ringo rides and other cash consuming attractions. water was lovely and the bonus was that we could then afford to eat out. Gorgeous local restaurant, so no driving, and a sumptuous seafood cataplana with wine and a colossal creme caramel.
We did a wonderful more local beach at Benagil the other day, and were stalked by a mature couple who are on the HPB Site. They parked by us sat by us on the beach, and then appeared by our pool later in the day.
The beach was beautiful though. loads of boats. lovely warm water and very clear sea.
Our tans are developing well. You can probably tell from the photos that janet is getting browned off, though it is less obvious in my case as there is less (no)photographic evidence.
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
A few pictures more
There are a few beach pictures of Benagil. We drove the short distance here and had alovely time (partially) under the small parasol we borrowed
Swimming was lovely in the deep clear water and fairly effortless due to the buoyancy of the seawater and the density of my expanding waistline.
Swimming was lovely in the deep clear water and fairly effortless due to the buoyancy of the seawater and the density of my expanding waistline.
A few pctures?
Salford Quays as promisedWith Janet modelling some millinery in a fashionable area of Silves .The Statutes are part of a nationwide exhibition of islamic art aimed at showing tranquility and peace, a sentiment it is hard not to endorse. We certainly had it to ourselves
Sunday, 1 August 2010
FARO and beyond
I had an an engine and a pleasant lady (who turned out to be my wife) for company on the flight, which courtesy of a tail wind (which earlier in the year would have filled my right hand companion with volcanic ash) whipped us in to Faro and extended our holiday by 20 minutes.
Percy
Is a Punto. He lacks the sophistication of Penelope our Sebring Cabriollo, but makes up for that with cost effective practicality. We spotted a couple of small scratches not noted on the documentation which the attendant obligingly ringed adding a number of spurious ones that gave a Dalmatian like appearance to his drawing. Fortunately Percy drinks diesel, so our unique exit from Faro is unlikely to have broken the bank. Percy drives well is air conditioned, and locks us in so that the nasty people racing alongside on motorbikes cant wrench the doors open and steal our expensive suits from Austin Reed(We had already covered this angle ourselves by leaving them in the car at Manchester)
Rocha Brava
Rocha Brava is a delightful development from the late 70s (I am guessing) only partly owned by Holiday Property Bond. The villas vary in size and amenity, but we have a bedroom and bathroom each (courtesy of our hard working children ) and the Television gives you as much Portugese practice as you are likely to need along with beamed in British programmes.
More crucially, 28 paces to the south is a private pool for the use of Bond holders only, which is a great start middle and end to any day. Temperatures here are currently around the 30 mark, with a bit of respite in the evening when the sun goes down (So probably not for Elton John). Janet is making ZZs after an unwelcome offer of a cup of tea when your blogger arose to take advantage of the cool of the day. (Not necessitated to counteract the friction generated heat of my typing)
I am no longer alone, and the ZZs have stopped as has the blog. Draw your own conclusions.
Silves
Yesterday we revisited a couple of old hunting grounds... Silves in the morning, where after a couple of false starts we parked Percy on the riverfront and walked in to town regenerating the local economy by purchasing two postcards and leaving the money even though the shop was like the Marie Celeste. The Portugese are so polite and helpful. They all seem to speak good English and are really courteous and helpful.
Following a nostalgic shopping trip to Lidl and a reminder about how daft we are to pay silly prices for bottled water in the UK where our tap water is quite potable, we tested Percys suspension with approx 30 litres (not counting the wine) and headed for
Casa Colhina
We stayed here courtesy of the Hill family (Hence Colinha) about 7 year ago. It is in the foothills and was set in a huge plot down a dirt road very much off the beaten track. The Villa had the potential to be gorgeous, but was desperate for a pool, and had needed a bit of finishing off.
Sadly apart from being fenced to mark the boundary little had been done, and the overgrown nature suggested a degree of neglect on the part of the new owners... Shame!!
Percy
Is a Punto. He lacks the sophistication of Penelope our Sebring Cabriollo, but makes up for that with cost effective practicality. We spotted a couple of small scratches not noted on the documentation which the attendant obligingly ringed adding a number of spurious ones that gave a Dalmatian like appearance to his drawing. Fortunately Percy drinks diesel, so our unique exit from Faro is unlikely to have broken the bank. Percy drives well is air conditioned, and locks us in so that the nasty people racing alongside on motorbikes cant wrench the doors open and steal our expensive suits from Austin Reed(We had already covered this angle ourselves by leaving them in the car at Manchester)
Rocha Brava
Rocha Brava is a delightful development from the late 70s (I am guessing) only partly owned by Holiday Property Bond. The villas vary in size and amenity, but we have a bedroom and bathroom each (courtesy of our hard working children ) and the Television gives you as much Portugese practice as you are likely to need along with beamed in British programmes.
More crucially, 28 paces to the south is a private pool for the use of Bond holders only, which is a great start middle and end to any day. Temperatures here are currently around the 30 mark, with a bit of respite in the evening when the sun goes down (So probably not for Elton John). Janet is making ZZs after an unwelcome offer of a cup of tea when your blogger arose to take advantage of the cool of the day. (Not necessitated to counteract the friction generated heat of my typing)
I am no longer alone, and the ZZs have stopped as has the blog. Draw your own conclusions.
Silves
Yesterday we revisited a couple of old hunting grounds... Silves in the morning, where after a couple of false starts we parked Percy on the riverfront and walked in to town regenerating the local economy by purchasing two postcards and leaving the money even though the shop was like the Marie Celeste. The Portugese are so polite and helpful. They all seem to speak good English and are really courteous and helpful.
Following a nostalgic shopping trip to Lidl and a reminder about how daft we are to pay silly prices for bottled water in the UK where our tap water is quite potable, we tested Percys suspension with approx 30 litres (not counting the wine) and headed for
Casa Colhina
We stayed here courtesy of the Hill family (Hence Colinha) about 7 year ago. It is in the foothills and was set in a huge plot down a dirt road very much off the beaten track. The Villa had the potential to be gorgeous, but was desperate for a pool, and had needed a bit of finishing off.
Sadly apart from being fenced to mark the boundary little had been done, and the overgrown nature suggested a degree of neglect on the part of the new owners... Shame!!
Pre departure
Florida Keys
Are a string of delightful islands renowned for their golden sunny beaches and inviting blue water.
Salford Quays on the other hand are more rightly renowned for upmarket living, The Lowry, Imperial War museum North, Northern (well Lancashire) culture at its best. With a rejuvenated dockland, watersports activity centre for well heeled Mancunian brats to test the patience of their well intentioned instructors. Unless you are a regular you may be less well aware the Lowry Outlet. I thought this might have been built to empty the Lowry in case of flooding, given its dockside location, but dutifully following the signs, and cautiously opening the door we discovered an underpopulated shopping experience where you could walk without bumping in to people and buy Austin Reed suits for £50, and shirts for a third the price of a small poorly octopus (sick squid divided by three =£2 in case you didn’t get there) So guess what I am wearing next term!
We had our final English meal in an Italian Restaurant, and headed for the Air conditioned comfort of The Manchester Airport Marriot who had promised to put us up in unaccustomed luxury and look after our car for a fortnight, for half the return taxi fare to the airport. No brainer there then!
Our early morning call at 0400 failed to materialise, but as we had been up since three trying to get full value for money out of their drinks and toiletries stache, it was quite irrelevant. An uneventful bus ride to the airport and a speedy security check gave us two hours to kill before boarding, and the opportunity to enjoy the early morning antics of Brits (nearly) abroad. Bars were already busy serving hen and stag parties and the Ibiza crowd were already in their specially prepared and uniquely colourful tee shirts which enable them to spot each other whilst giving the authorities a fighting chance of reuniting comatose specimens with their inebriated chums.
Are a string of delightful islands renowned for their golden sunny beaches and inviting blue water.
Salford Quays on the other hand are more rightly renowned for upmarket living, The Lowry, Imperial War museum North, Northern (well Lancashire) culture at its best. With a rejuvenated dockland, watersports activity centre for well heeled Mancunian brats to test the patience of their well intentioned instructors. Unless you are a regular you may be less well aware the Lowry Outlet. I thought this might have been built to empty the Lowry in case of flooding, given its dockside location, but dutifully following the signs, and cautiously opening the door we discovered an underpopulated shopping experience where you could walk without bumping in to people and buy Austin Reed suits for £50, and shirts for a third the price of a small poorly octopus (sick squid divided by three =£2 in case you didn’t get there) So guess what I am wearing next term!
We had our final English meal in an Italian Restaurant, and headed for the Air conditioned comfort of The Manchester Airport Marriot who had promised to put us up in unaccustomed luxury and look after our car for a fortnight, for half the return taxi fare to the airport. No brainer there then!
Our early morning call at 0400 failed to materialise, but as we had been up since three trying to get full value for money out of their drinks and toiletries stache, it was quite irrelevant. An uneventful bus ride to the airport and a speedy security check gave us two hours to kill before boarding, and the opportunity to enjoy the early morning antics of Brits (nearly) abroad. Bars were already busy serving hen and stag parties and the Ibiza crowd were already in their specially prepared and uniquely colourful tee shirts which enable them to spot each other whilst giving the authorities a fighting chance of reuniting comatose specimens with their inebriated chums.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)