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Ellie and Hub lived in Lagoa 10
years ago, while in their early 40's, they had a carpentry business near
Algoz.
You can reach Ellie at: Gantree1@aol.com |
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No
Place Like Home ?
For some time now we have been discussing our future; where we will
eventually spend our retirement years. Having married young we have,
in our time, had many homes. Born in London we spent all of our
youth and early married life there. Then when the children were
young we moved to the Kent borders. After that we had a short stay
in Essex, followed by a move back to Kent and the village of
Benenden, near the Sussex border. But I believe our big move to
Portugal for those few years in the early 90s, did something to us,
and since our return to the UK we seem to have become quite
restless. However, I’ve come to the conclusion, that wherever you
live, you do in the end take that place for granted and that no
matter how beautiful it may be, we are always in search of ‘where
the grass is greener’; never quite satisfied.
Before my recent holiday to Algarve, Hub had said to me “ Go and
have a nice rest. Relax, look around and think of where you’d like
to live; where you could see us in retirement, where you think we
would be happy?”
Unfortunately, 2 words I dislike in the English language are
‘retirement’ and ‘settling down’ (sorry that’s 3 !) . I don’t know
why but they give me the ‘heeby jeebys’, a scared sort of feeling. I
can never see myself as totally giving up my garden work and the
same goes for settling down; its like saying its ‘the end of the
journey’.. sitting in the old rocking chair with my knitting. No!
That isn’t for me.
But one does have to be sensible and I know from the problems I’ve
been getting over the past year or so with my knee and leg, that my
garden work will gradually become limited. I have to accept that.
Then again, writing is becoming more of a passion for me. So as one
stage of life inevitably passes, thank goodness another and equally
exciting one can take its place.
On my recent holiday I had plenty of time (as the poet said) to
‘stand and stare’, time on my hands to sit in Carvoeiro’s little bay
and think on ‘where next’?
On my trips into Lagoa, I walked and walked, looking around the
town, wandering the back streets and further, exploring new
developments and doing so much thinking, ‘Could we live here again?
It’s a place where I feel comfortable and I know Hub feels the same.
But would there be enough to do? Would we become bored? ‘
Of one thing I was certain, we would socialise so much more. Go out
to dinner or lunch. Meet up with friends we’ve made over the years.
Have nice walks and maybe get another dog?
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I sat
mulling this over in my head one day in the park’s café. As I sat
there a strange thing happened. An elderly couple came and sat at
the table in front of me, both smartly dressed, the Senhora in
pretty summer dress, the Senhor in smart shirt and trousers, the
Senhora chatting amiably to her husband; smiling, laughing. She
looked over to me, gave a smile, which I returned. It was then that
I recognised her and her tall shy-looking husband. It was the same
Portuguese couple that Hub and I had seen on our holiday there three
years ago. They had caught our attention that summer afternoon, as
the wife had played ‘footsie’ with her husband under the table,
flirting with him as he tried but failed to ignore her actions.
As I watched them this time, she was still flirting with him with
her eyes and sweet smiles and engaging manner. I thought, as I did 3
years ago, how lovely! They were both well in their 80s I would say,
yet she had eyes for no other person and his look of contentment
said it all in one word, happiness.
It was then I thought ‘Yes. I think we could be happy here again’.
But there is another place that we have always liked; a city that we
always enjoyed visiting and one which we made many visits to during
our time of residency. Not only to carry out carpentry jobs and
where for a short while I had a small bookshop but it was the place
Jamie went to school and which he visited it on a daily basis…that
place is Silves !
We always thought this city had a ‘magical’ quality to it and I
never failed to be impressed by this old Moorish capital as we
approached it from either the road from the workshops at Algoz, or
the old route from our home in Lagoa. It is indeed, in our view, a
jewel in Algarve’s crown.
On holiday and very hot days of summer, it’s a treat to drive there
and sit beneath the shade of the tall trees along by the river Arade
on a bench close by the old Roman bridge. A place to reminisce,
thinking on the many times we had done the very same during our time
in Algarve when on a break from our work. |
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Roman bridge in Silves |
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course there have been changes. Across the road from the river there
is now a splendid park with water features, the fountains and
statues. I have an old photo that was given to me of that very site
some 20 years ago. Then it was a red dusty area once used merely for
parking; now it’s a pretty place to sit and relax and just a short
walking distance to paved walked ways and little cafes to have
drinks and refreshments. If you feel energetic, take the steep walk
up to the Cathedral and to the red-walled castle. Explore on foot;
the best way to see any place of great interest. But I find wherever
I walk or stand or sit, you never get away from (to me) the
overwhelming ‘Moorishness’ of the place and whenever I sit by the
Arade imagination takes over and I can see in my minds eye the
crusaders, as they came in their boats to conquer Silves and can
quite understand how they fell under it’s spell, smitten by its
beauty. |
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Silves Park |
One
day as I sat waiting for a taxi into Lagoa, I suddenly thought, in
the 2 weeks I had been in Carvoeiro, I hadn’t had a sardine lunch.
My next thought was ‘where to go’? Then the answer came. There was
only one place to go for a really good ‘sardinha’ lunch and with the
right atmosphere and that was the harbour side at Portimao! The taxi
fare would make it a little more expensive but then I was only going
to have it the once, so why not? That day Lagoa was forgotten!
I asked the taxi driver to take me the Ferragudo way, as it’s far
more scenic than along the 125. As we drove up to Monte Carvoeiro
and passed Vila Nova (where Hub and I had holidays in the past) I
was very surprised to see that the little ‘wilderness’ close to Vila
Nova complex, was being built upon. I’d often walked there and
admired the wildflowers that blossomed in the spring, seeing the
odd, empty Portuguese dwellings and wondering how it must have been
and looked many years ago. In fact 5 years ago and a few months
after my mother died, I had taken refuge in that place. Alone with
my thoughts, trying to come to terms with my loss, I had found
comfort, a solace in walking amongst nature’s works of art. But now
it seemed that this little nature reserve was going to disappear
beneath a pile of bricks and mortar. |
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Vila Nova wilderness |
I know we have to progress but to see
pieces of countryside disappear always saddens me.
Ferragudo is a pretty place and although I don’t know it very well
its always a pleasure to take this route and driving over the old
bridge into Portimão again brings back fond memories of the times
Hub and I had driven there to buy furnishings at a special hardware
store for our carpentry business.
I was pleasantly surprised by the cost of my taxi ride, being just
over 11 euros it was 5 euros cheaper than the same trip 2 years
previous; before meters had been installed!
What a wonderful place it is to sit and eat! What better ambience
for a fish meal than beside the lapping waters of Portimão harbour ?
I made my way along the harbour side under the bridge, where African
vendors tried to tempt me with their carved animals, jewellery and
other wares. But I was hungry with thoughts of grilled sardines
uppermost in my mind!
It seemed like I stopped at the very same restaurant as before and I
made my way to a shady table at the back. The service was quick and
soon I was tucking into starters of fried sardines (a new one for
me), then came the real McCoy, 4 large grilled sardines, accompanied
by the traditional small boiled potatoes in their skins.. a ‘salad
simples’, dotted with my favourite black olives, bread, butter,
fruit juice and water completed a meal fit for a king and I couldn’t
eat it all ! But with sun sparkling on blue waters as I munched away
at my feast, it was a little bit of paradise. Lovely.
But as I sat eating, my thoughts were busy. Portimão had everything
to hand; plenty of shops, a beautiful harbour, parks, many eating
places to suit everybody’s choice of food and just a short distant
to beaches as well as open countryside. Could we live here? Portimão
has expanded a great deal since our time of residency; there would
probably be a wide choice of living accommodation. But could we feel
at home here?
As I sipped my ‘café com leite’ I pondered on this idea.
A stroll by the water’s edge and music caught my ear and approaching
the square where fountains play and folk are eating a late lunch, I
saw once again, the ‘music of the Andes’ musicians. I stopped awhile
to listen before taking a short walk in the small park and then made
my way to the taxi rank for my journey back to Carvoeiro. The sun
was beating down and with a full tummy, I felt the need for a little
siesta.
A few days later and after a very lazy morning soaking up the sun on
my little balcony, I made up some ham and tomato sandwiches and
tucking these, along with fruit juice and water into my shoulder
bag, I took myself out for a walk. Stopping at one of the shops
close to the square, I bought some postcards, large ones of various
places showing Algarve’s beautiful coastline. My good friend Sheila,
who has lived in Belgium most of her life, had written to me just
days before I had come on holiday, so I needed to reply to her. She
has never been to Algarve and always takes a great interest in
hearing about it. But where to sit? Standing in the square I looked
up to the cliff tops and thought ‘Yes. Up by the little church’.
It was early afternoon and the sun was very hot as I trudged up the
hill. The seats by the church were in full sun, so I opted for one
of the white benches that overlooks the bay and are in the shade of
tall pines. I made myself comfortable then began to write. Strange
isn’t it? You always think there isn’t much to write about but
looking at that gorgeous scene laid put before my eyes, all I had to
do was describe it!
When we lived there, we never used the beaches much at all. Most of
the time we would walk the cliffs and specially those at Rocha
Brava; another little wilderness paradise.
But once again I was deep in thought. Carvoeiro seems as much like
home as Lagoa now; perhaps even more so after all my regular visits.
I know many of the people there, not only in places like Colombos
but the little shops and small supermarkets and bars like Hemingways.
I feel comfortable there; safe. |
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Carvoeiro church |
As I packed up my bag and made my way slowly downhill, I pondered
once more of where we could live? A movement to my right had me
looking up. It was one of the policeman coming out of the GNR
station. Our eyes met and he gave me a very charming smile and
nodded in reply to my ‘boa tarde’. Well, that took me back once
more, to our time in Lagoa when we got to know the local policemen
and they knew us. They always smiled and spoke and now it was
happening again. I walked back to the apartment with a spring in my
step!
But not before I called into the little grocery shop just a little
way along the out road (before the post-office).
I chatted with the young woman in there and had our usual laugh at
me buying just 1 custard tart. She would say ’Just 1?’ I would say
‘Sim, its only for me. If I have more I will get ‘Gordo’! (fat).
I was just about to pay her, when a couple came in the doorway. The
man started talking to the Portuguese girl in French! She looked
puzzled and replied in Portuguese that she didn’t speak French. I
intervened and found myself translating for both sides!
Now neither my French, or Portuguese is fluent but somehow we all
managed to understand each other! Actually it was a very funny
incident.
It was a Saturday and the elderly French couple had hoped to pick up
their photos from the photographers nearby, but being Saturday
afternoon it was closed and they were going home the next day,
Sunday!
The Portuguese girl came to their rescue. More translating and soon
they were giving her their address and she promised to take it to
the photographers on Monday morning, so they could have their photos
sent on to them in France.
Back in the apartment and having a hot cuppa with my one custard
tart, I thought of what had just occurred; how kind the Portuguese
girl was to take that trouble. With that very much in mind I thought
‘Yes, I could definitely live here again, for sure!’But where?
Lagoa, Silves, Portimão, Carvoeiro……….. |
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