Quarteira; Unexpected Things.

We’ve truly visited a wide variety of places here in Portugal. Starting with Lisbon, which surprised us how much we liked the area we were staying in—Alameda. Next we went to Porto. That was non-stop action. Within a couple of days we discovered the relative peace and quiet of the Gaia side of the river. Then we moved down to Sesimbra, which was a pretty amazing place. With it soft sandy beaches and winding cobblestone streets. It was so much more low-key than Porto and Lisbon. Next we went further south to Ferragudo—an absolutely unique town and extremely quiet and elegant. We water-taxied over to Portimao, which was not quiet nor elegant. It’s the perfect place for a weekend of senseless drinking and flirting all with as little clothing as possible—not really our thing. Now we’re in Quarteira, and it is a big sprawling beach town with Sesimbra’s family vibe and Portimao’s beach chairs and umbrellas. Next week we head back to Lisbon for a couple of nights.

A lot of things have happened on this trip we didn’t anticipate, which is half the fun, right? For example, the day after our arrival was May first… Portugal’s Labor Day. It took a little skill to navigate what was open for business. In Porto was college graduation… the first in many years. What we didn’t know was that every class celebrates with the graduating class—a lot! I can’t tell you how thankful we were to not be trying to get around the city in a car. The traffic jam was so bad that people were sitting on the hoods of their cars chatting and smoking cigarettes while they waited for what seemed like hours. Then when all seemed back to normal, the Porto soccer team won the Portugal national title. The entire city went into convulsive fits of joy. Nothing unusual happened in Sesimbra, but on the day we left they had a rare train strike. That was chaos. Oh, and don't forget the motocross race in town.

The alternate route of going by taxi-metro-bus-taxi sucked. Ferragudo was calm except the rare weather condition of warm water being pushed up to the southern coast of Portugal and cool weather coming down from the north caused chilly foggy weather for a whole day. You’d have thought the locals were going to keel over and die. To me it felt like the northern California coast, but to them it was freezing. Via taxi-train-taxi, we’re now in Quarteira.

This may sound odd, but Quarteira is almost too perfect. It doesn’t seem possible that people actually live like this. I’ll take this moment to give kudos to the Portuguese government. It’s amazing how well maintained the public spaces are. They have these nice boardwalks everywhere (I mean everywhere we’ve been on this trip, not just here). The beaches are kept immaculate as a matter of national pride. 387 beaches in Portugal have been awarded the coveted blue-flag for cleanliness in 2020. The promenades are wide and well maintained with artistic designs on the tiled walkways. 

The most unusual feature we see in all public areas, is workout parks. They are clean, neat, and used. Honestly, I don’t think public gyms like these would last five minutes in the States before someone either vandalized them or sued the government because they hurt themselves. Some of these gyms (and playgrounds) are in the sand… not wheelchair accessible to say the least. 

So, in the US, nobody should get to use them. In reality, it’s not the government, but the citizens who make this lifestyle possible. Their patriotism and desire to have good quality things is universal. What they have, they take care of.

I’m sitting on my deck writing this. I keep stopping and leaning back in my plastic chair to stare out over the sea. I know Africa is just over that horizon and wish I could see it. Our condo is at the very end of the beach condo strip. We’re on the fifth floor that overlooks both the Atlantic and the parking lot. It’s a hub of activity here all day long with families eagerly scrambling out of their cars with all their gear, only to return hours later with sandy feet and wet towels—exhausted.

Yesterday there was an awning attached to a van (right in my line of sight) selling beachwear. A constant stream of women wandered through it. This morning I watched as the van pulled up. I sat drinking my coffee while marveling at their determination to get that awning back up again and to pull all the dresses and flowy things out of the back. It was like a magician’s hat they pull rabbits out of. I can’t understand how all that stuff came out of that van. But today the wind wasn’t cooperating and it kept snatching the dresses off the racks and flinging them on the ground as soon as the vendors turned their backs. This went on for a good twenty minutes. Finally the wind knocked over a huge rack with 30-40 dresses on it. The couple gave up and put everything back in the van and drove off.

I made a food ordering mistake today. We stop and check out the menus of all the restaurants along the promenade until something appeals to us. Today I saw a Chef Salad on the menu. We promptly sat down and I ordered the Chef Salad. Oh boy was I excited! I was bitterly disappointed when they brought me a gorgeous salad with no egg, no meat, no bacon. I asked the waitress where the meat was. She looked as baffled as I did. A chef salad simply means the chef makes it with whatever is available (it really was a great salad). The lady said she’d bring me some chicken. Ten minutes later she scooped a perfectly cooked and thinly sliced chicken breast onto my salad… and she didn’t charge me because she said she just wanted me to be happy.

The customer service here is a little awe-inspiring. The other day I went to the pharmacy to get cough medicine since Joe and I both caught a cold. I didn’t have enough money. I was short by 75 cents. A guy in line offered to pay the 75 cents. The pharmacist told me I could come back later when I had it and give it to her then. I told her how nice that was. She shrugged and answered with a smile, “I trust you, and it’s only 75 cents.” I paid for it with a card, but it was so nice of her.

Speaking of medical care, the guy across the street from us back in Ferragudo was saying he just had a knee replacement. He has private Portuguese healthcare insurance, which is one-thousand a year for him and his wife (they’re in their 80’s, from Sonoma). They kept him in the hospital for a week and did physical therapy… the bill came to 400 euros! His wife had cancer on one of her kidneys and had to have the kidney removed. A week in the hospital and 400 euros. “We couldn’t believe it, and they saved her life!” He and his wife decided to come to Europe and move from place to place. Portugal was their first stop (they’d visited before). That was 14 years ago and they never left Ferragudo. 

He lives on the third floor of a triplex on top of the hill (remember—148 steps) and he’s in his eighties. I commented on how youthful he looked and he just waved his hand to encompass the beauty around us. “It’s because I live here.” I wish we’d met him before the end of our time there.

I’m sipping the most expensive wine I’ve purchased since we arrived. I struggled with the purchase and left the store without it. That night I went back and bought it. It was the second most expensive bottle in the store. It’s a beast of a wine at 16% alcohol made by Convento da Tomina—it’s luxuriant and velvety… it was twelve euros. :) Most of the wine in the store was under five euros, but those wines tend to be dry. I don’t like dry wine.

Now it’s the next morning, Wednesday. Last night Joe was feeling crummy and exhausted, so I went to a restaurant on the promenade to get take-out. It was 9:30 at night, but remember the people don’t start eating dinner until 8:00 here. Anyway, I went by myself. As I walked along in the dark, I kept thinking, “Wow, I can’t believe I’m safe.” Everyone whom I passed either ignored me or politely said hello. When I got to The Shaker to order my beef burritos, the waitress brought me a blanket because I looked cold. I almost ended up with two mojitos, but thankfully I caught her words when she repeated my order. Everything went well until I got back to our high-rise. I got the key to work to let me into the interior, but I couldn’t get the stupid condo door to open. Finally, Joe hunted down his key to unlock it from the inside. That’s so unsafe! What if there was a fire? You’d have to keep a key in the door at all times. The beef burritos were great and we watched yet another episode of The Chosen.

One of my true disappointments on this trip is the pool here. For three weeks I’ve been unable to get in the ocean because it’s too cold for me. But I knew the last week in Quarteira would be the warmest weather, so I chose (and paid more for it) a place with a pool. The big bummer is they are renovating the façade of the building right in front of the pool! The pool is open, but there’s cement dust (my allergy) and little chunks of tile everywhere. Out of shear stubborn determination, I marched through the construction debris and got in the pool yesterday. It felt so good, but the curious stares from the construction workers six stories up and the ugliness of it sent me back inside. But, I did get in the pool.