Portimão, Burnt Food, Travel-hack List, and Benigal Caves

I’m on my usual quest to find a decent grocery store—this time in Portimão. The two big ones along the main tourist strip are lacking in the meat department. One has emaciated, wrinkled rotisserie chickens, the other has a spatchcocked baked chicken that looks almost as pathetic—I’m a little spoiled by the quality of prebaked food in Armação. Neither of these stores have butcher-counters. Near our place is a “Supermercado,” but it’s not super. It’s the size of our front-room with only dry goods. On our way out of town the other day we drove past a giant grocery store. It’s at least a mile away, but we’re going to make the trek today.

It’s been overcast and rainy these last couple of days. A bit disappointing because I love hanging out at the beach. Fortunately this town has tons of restaurants to go to... Some with squirting snails! It's always entertaining to watch people lean over to get a closer look.

We made the grocery store trek and it paid off. Continente is big and has a huge variety of stuff. It’s in a two-story mall with a food court. They even had a fast food place with bicycle seats to burn off the calories you consume… brilliant. The store had Skippy peanut butter (pause for spontaneous happy dance) and my favorite wine, Hermalinda Syrah Reserva. Most importantly they had a meat counter. I picked up chicken for dinner last night and managed to not burn it this time—barely. I also got ribs for slow-cooking for tomorrow night.

Portimão is an incredibly convenient city with big beaches, stores, cinemas, bowling alleys, a million restaurants and bars, but this half of the city is completely lacking in any kind of culture (unless you call expats and tourists a culture). I want to head to the old town north on the river and see what I think.

We went to Ferragudo for the day. We drove through old-town Portimão to find it wasn’t impressive from the car. We had a couple of options for getting there. The water taxi was appealing because it’s fun, but it would mean a fairly long walk to get to the pick-up point and costs about $5 bucks apiece. We decided to take the Uber and got there from our doorstep to the Praia Grande beach for $6 total. 

Spent the day wandering around the beach and gazing up at the gorgeous private castle and eating yet more food.

Last night I put in the ribs to slow cook. Having learned from the burnt chicken, I set the oven 50ᵒ C lower than the recipe called for, and at the end of 3 hours we ate black crunchy ribs. I’m so frustrated to have an oven that doesn’t work properly. I finally told the property manager that it was dangerous. He said he’d have his electrician look at it, but no one had ever complained before. Maybe it broke just for me, shrug. He also said no one had mentioned the broken espresso machine. I’m guessing that people are here for such a short time, they just accept things that don’t work, and maybe they don’t cook?

I get asked a lot about what we pack for a three month journey, (or a one month journey) so I’ve jotted down various oddities like spices we never travel without. I’m not talking about the obvious things, like clothing and a first aide kit. So, here’s a list:

Collapsible back scratcher (I’m obsessed with this item), human-grade diatomaceous earth (for killing off exoskeletal bugs like ants and cockroaches), tiny little sewing kit with tiny scissors (I’ve used this four times on this trip), fly swatter (cheap plastic one takes up no room), zip-lock baggies (for snacks), adapters and converter, night light (we have a European one), saccharin (not easy to find your fav sweetener), clamps (to close off bags like coffee), rubber-bands, manicure kit, fabric grocery bags, notebook or cue cards or sticky notes (Joe uses them, I use the note app on my phone), little tiny backpack salt and pepper, Cajun or blackening seasoning (If I lived here I could make my own seasoning, but I’d have to buy all the ingredients),

Ear plugs (I don’t know what I’d do without these), toothpicks (I like the little plastic ones), wine kit (opener, drip-ring, soft flexible corks), chargeable fan (which I set next my bed for air and noise), hanging fan (a gift from my sister to hang around my neck on the plane, hand fan (for my purse), tiny multitool, magnifying glass (or super-strong readers), eyeglass repair kit (don’t need it until ya need it), flashlight (Joe’s obsession), coffee filters (we’ve been places that have no idea what a coffee filter is), a little backpacker’s pour-over for coffee, 

Note app for groceries, rubber bands, batteries (can be purchased abroad, but then you get a whole pack), recipes with Celsius conversions on note app (or photos of recipes), hook-straps (great to have on your backpack for hanging shoes/jackets/towels/etc., itty-bitty spray bottle (this is an absolute must for me to calm my curly hair down). So, there you go… pretty much all of that can fit into a shoe-box.

We do love the beaches here with the massive rock formations providing a wind-block and shade. The stairs are a bit much at the end of a long hot day. We found a beach just west of us that has a street-level entry point, so IF we were to move here, that’s where I’d look. Joe is enamored with Portimão, but I’m not. It’s okay, but I just don’t like the superficial feeling. I think Armação de Pêra is a little better. I only wish the ocean wasn’t so painfully cold here. I’d be in it everyday if it were.

Last night we wandered up the street to a place I’d heard of for dinner—Urban Grill. It was so good. A wood platter full of steaks, chicken, sausages, and pork ribs, plus a salad and fries. We ate like kings and the wine was lovely… Bill says his Pepsi Zero was very nice too ;) The meal was expensive, but worth it.

We went on a boat tour of the Benigal Caves. This is the second time Joe and I have done this tour with Atlantis Tours. These guys do a great job. It’s magical to see the caves and cliffs from the sea level, and the day was completely calm. Bill was properly impressed.

Our guide, Rogerio, was a very busy guy trying to make everyone feel special… not easy on a rubber boat packed full of people. He even made reservations for us at a restaurant in downtown Portimão. I won’t give the name because it was very expensive and not good enough for the price, but we had fun chatting with the sommelier. He was incredibly knowledgeable and determined to make me happy after I sent my wine back. He succeeded in making me happy with a wine from the Alentejo region.

We’re heading back to Lisbon in a couple of days. Tonight we’re going to watch Hercule Poirot and eat garlic butter chicken and white rice. I may have time to blog one more time before I get back home to Sacramento, CA. We’ll see.

Lisbon to pick up Bill and back down to Portimão

At this moment, I’m feeling very blessed and thankful… my laptop took a tumble out of the last Uber car. It dented in the corner with the power button. I figured it was a lost cause, so I pulled out the tweezers and pried the metal off the button and viola! It works. I bring a thumb-drive with me to back up my work, but I’m glad I don’t have to buy a new computer. Though, admittedly, it’s not working quite right.

Our good buddy, Bill arrived from California last Thursday. We went up to Lisbon to fetch him and spent a day trying to exhaust him. We were successful. We dragged him to the mall straight from the airport to feed him a good Portuguese meal from the massive food court. He joined us on the terrace carrying a tray with a McDonald’s Happy Meal. Oh well, these things take time.

We took him on the metro, then on the train, to Carcavelos beach the next morning. By the time we got back that night we were all exhausted, but we still dragged him out to dinner. The next day we took a bus to the Algarve—full of rowdy drunk guys who hooted, hollered, and chanted for half an hour and then they all passed out for the next three hours.

It was cool to see the enormous pelican nests on the giant power poles in the central valley. I can never get my camera out in time to take a good picture. Some on the towers had ten or more nests, all with birds sitting in them watching the traffic go by.

Now we’re at our new place in Portimão (a little west of our last place) for two weeks. This apartment represents two major breakthroughs in our Portugal travels. One is it has a pool that is actually open. Finally! The last place had a massive pool complex right below our window. We spent three weeks watching them get it ready for the moment we left. This place has a cute little pool with water in it… very special indeed. 

And it has a super soft bed. I slept pain-free for the first time in three months (except in Lisbon). The only down-side is the sheets are super silky, so it’s hard to keep them on the bed with the comforter. I used my handy-dandy safety pins to pin the sheets to the comforter and slept fine after that.

We spent today shopping for a beach towel for Bill and then went to flop around on the beach. Joe made a major purchase and got a big red umbrella. When we came back from lunch at the beach bar, our umbrella was neatly wrapped up and sitting on our towels. Apparently it had gone flying and someone retrieved it. I love the Portuguese. It seems that umbrellas are like the fish in the Bible. When we came home, I discovered a cabinet on the terrace full of beach umbrellas. The first we’ve seen at an Airbnb.

Here in Portimão we have already found three grocery stores and a million little shops for beach stuff and clothes, and restaurants. The prices are a tiny bit higher here because it has a huge expat crowd who’re willing to pay higher prices. Kinda like Cancun and Ensenada charge more because we’ll pay more. The Portuguese absolutely refuse to pay inflated prices.

I made us my garlic-butter chicken the other night and learned that their oven runs a little hot when I opened it to check on the chicken. Smoke billowed out. I frantically shut the door and turned the oven off. We made a quick search and made another discovery—they may have umbrellas, but they do not have a fire extinguisher. I texted the manager and asked, “Do you have a fire extinguisher?” He answered, “No.” Ten minutes later he asked why. I also asked if there was a first aid kit in the place… “No.” Gotcha, good to know. Thankfully I bring first aid stuff with me to bandage up Bill’s bleeding foot from the beach. Joe couldn’t get the giant sliding door to lock, so he asked the property manager… “It’s broken.” That means we have to leave the black-out shutters down when we go anywhere. How about the shelf that hangs at an angle? “Don’t put anything valuable on it.” Again, good to know.

Yesterday Joe and I decided to head west. We wanted to see if there were any cliff-side trails like in Armação. Bill decided to call a day of rest. He happily vegged out while Joe and I explored.

We went out last night to an Indian restaurant that had high reviews. I must’ve gotten the wrong restaurant. Today we climbed back into an Uber and headed over to show Bill the little town of Carvoeiro. It was just as pretty as we remembered and he was charmed. It was a bit cold and blustery, but fun to wander the cliffs.

Not sure what tomorrow will hold here, but I know Karina, my darling Guatemalan daughter, will be getting married back in Sacramento. I’m sad to not be there, but excited for this marriage to my oldest friend’s son, Rusty. They are madly in love and love the Lord, so I have high hopes. We plan to have a church ceremony this summer in our yard and have a small reception.

So, goodbye for now. I always think the coming days will be uneventful, but that never happens. Life is eventful. I will keep you posted as we wind down our three months in Portugal.

Day Trip to Carvoeiro and Dancing With The Locals

We don’t travel like other people, that’s for sure. We like to settle in and stay put for awhile… maybe three or four weeks. However, we do like to make day trips to nearby places. Sometimes that’s a matter of walking, which we love to do, or possibly taking a bus or an Uber. For example; we took a local train from Belem to Cascais and spent a couple of nights. We went from Lisbon to Setubal by bus to stay a few nights. Uber took us to Obidos from São Martinho do Porto for the day.

Down here in Portugal’s Algarve I hunted around for a visit-worthy town and found one. Carvoeiro is an adorable large village. It spills directly down a crevice to a small beach lined with restaurants. Up each side, skirting the beach, are walking paths. The path to the west is mostly on the road, but has beautiful views. The eastern path takes you to a stunning boardwalk that feels like you’re suspended over the edge.

We walked for an hour or so until we came to a set of stairs leading down to a patio wedged between the rocks. Naturally, we felt we’d earned an adult beverage and a snack at this point, so down we went. As we shared a burger and fries yet again, Joe noticed from his vantage-point that people were walking between the rocks and disappearing for a while. Intriguing. This was something we’d have to explore after using their bathroom (and the roll of toilet paper we brought for these little emergencies where so many places don’t have any paper).

The narrow tunnel opened to a little room with two openings. It had a creepy feeling of being inside some ancient monster’s empty skull. Everyone waited patiently for their opportunity to pose. I am one of those people who offers to take a photo of couples and families. I know, for us, it’s rare to have a photo where we’re both in it, unless of course you count the endless selfies, which I don’t. When a couple I’d taken a picture for offered to return the favor, I happily posed with the hubby.

After leaving there we cruised around the rocks for a bit and then found a cenote (a hole in the ground). The ocean surged in and out of it in such a powerful way that only a video could really capture it. A narrow ledge circled around it, so we followed it. This led us to ancient carved steps in the cliff. As I went up I couldn’t help thinking about how many feet had done the same thing. It was a beautiful plateau.

After searching around, we realized we were going to have to climb the wall to get up to the boardwalk, or retrace our steps. You guessed it—up we went!

That night we tried to figure out where to eat dinner. The places we’d found that had good food reviews were cash only. We like to hold onto our cash. Typically we won’t go to a restaurant if they don’t take debit/credit (except cafés where the cost is only 1-3 Euros for a glass of wine and a beer is 1.50-2.50 Euros). Anyway, while I was googling restaurants standing in the street overlooking the beach, Joe was hobnobbing with the host at the restaurant directly behind me. Next thing I know we’re up on their gorgeous terrace having a fantastic and cheap meal at Don Carvoeiro.

I’m a foodie… obviously. We went to a little pizzaria here in Armação the other day and got into a half-hour chat with the owner about Portugal’s charms. He asked us to come back on Friday night for their free live music. He made a reservation for us because he said it gets really crowded with locals there to dance. We went and had a blast. The one-man-show was a guy singing and playing the keyboard with piped in music. He did Portuguese songs and also French and American. He also got the crowd on their feet, including yours truly, with Mediterranean disco that reminded us so much of Club Med music. When they started the electric slide, I joined in. The problem was, they’ve added a step. I swear, it took me half the song to get the hang of that extra step.

On one side of this limited space was a table along the entire wall for about thirty people. As the second half of their group filtered in, they would applaud. This applause got louder and more rambunctious as the last stragglers came in. Note to self, in Portugal you don’t want to be the last ones to arrive!

I’ve had a bit of teasing over the years of writing this blog about only walking, eating, and drinking, unless of course we’re on a scuba diving trip. So I decided to let you in on how we entertain ourselves outside of these noble pursuits. First of all, we start every morning with working out (usually in our apartment but sometimes the beach or a park). Almost every day we return to our place in the afternoon to chill out, read and write, watch travel videos, and nap. During dinner, if we eat here, or after dinner when we eat out, we almost always watch a movie. Hercule Poirot is our favorite, but I can usually hunt down a free movie on You Tube if we want something different.

I also like playing games like Wordle, Words With Friends, and being artistic on my coloring-book app on my cell phone. My BFF back in California and I have been doing puzzles together for years. Three months seemed too long to go without this, so she found an interactive puzzle app. We do the puzzle together, and it allows us to be on microphone so we can chat. It’s brilliant really.

One of the reasons we want to move here (or Italy) is we are a restless pair. We get bored sitting around the house, but it’s so expensive in California to go out to eat and do some people-watching. Don’t get me wrong, we love hanging out on the American River Parkway behind our house, but here we can just walk out the door and we’re amongst people, cafes, promenades, and parkways. Like I said, having a glass of wine and a couple of beers is only about six bucks. Back in Cali that would set us back at least thirty-five. Plus, I’m saving a fortune on groceries here. A big bottle of mouthwash was only €1.45! My grocery bill has never been over thirty-five dollars… and that’s three bags.

People Watching In Portugal

I am a serious people-watcher, partly because I’m an author (or maybe that’s why I’m an author?). When I was little, my mother used to point to someone and ask me to tell her a story about them. I loved doing that. We’d come up with some of the craziest stories, and I think that is why I’m always imagining what’s going on besides what I can directly see. Like the big muscular bodybuilder doing lunges on the beach… with his bikini-clad girlfriend on his shoulders—not something you see every day.

Something I’ve noticed on this trip is how many Portuguese dress their kids alike. I’m not talking about twins, though I’ve seen that. I mean several kids wearing identical clothes of various sizes. I was really surprised when I saw a young thirty-something couple wearing matching designer sweats. Somehow it looked good on them.

Clothing is always of interest to me. In Europe, you can almost tell where someone lives based on their clothes and, of course, hairstyles. Here in Portugal, we can spot an Irishman, Englishman, or a Scott from a mile away. They’re the ones wearing shorts while everyone else is bundled up in parkas. They may be wearing a parka too, but they will absolutely be wearing shorts.

The other day, well actually the other month when we were in Nazare, we heard a lot of youthful noise. It was dark, so we couldn’t see what it was all about. I could hear music and laughter with some shouts. My first thought, as a paranoid Californian, was uh-oh! What’s going on? Maybe we should avoid this? Joe laughed at me and said, “Come on… we’re in Portugal. They’re probably doing a folk dance or something.” When we got close enough, I could see a group of about 25 teens doing a choreographed dance in the plaza. So much for being attacked by a gang of hoodlums… maybe my imagination is a little too vivid.

Kids always crack me up. Digging incredibly deep holes in the sand seems to be a national pastime for boys. I’ve even seen older teenagers digging to where only their heads are showing. The girls on the other hand scurry back and forth from the ocean with buckets of water to solidify their castles. Wanting to get in the cold water seems to be a world-wide phenomena. This must be accompanied with hysterical screaming.

I loved watching two brothers the other day. The older one would whip up the family umbrella (closed) and aim it at the younger brother. He’d make machine gun motions with the umbrella and the younger one would convulse dramatically as he clutched his chest and collapsed to the ground. He’d hop up and beg his brother to do it again… so one is going to grow up to be a paid assassin and the younger an actor.

As the kids reach adulthood the behavior shifts to boys playing soccer or fútvolley and the girls sunbathing. It made me laugh the other day when a group of about 15 guys and gals arrived to the spot in front of the restaurant window we were sitting at. The guys dumped all their backpacks on the ground. Ripping off their shirts, they started kicking a soccer-ball around. The girls carefully laid out their beach-towels in perfect symmetry all lined up side-by-side, and then began slowly removing layers of clothing until they were in those skimpy little Brazilian bikinis that are missing the part that covers their butts.

The other day, Joe got an applause from two teens. You see, every time we’d make the trek from Sao Martinho to Salir we’d go to a café and have a beer… or two. I would make Joe do five pull-ups at the park gym for each beer he wanted. With much groaning and complaining he’d pump out two sets of five. One time there were two kids at the pull-up bars. Joe wanted those beers pretty bad. He waited until they were done showing off and he did his pull-ups--all ten in one try. They watched in awe as this musclebound man in his sixties worked for his beer. When he finished, they applauded. Joe modestly smiled.

It’s not uncommon for occasional gusts of wind to whip through the crowds on the beach. When that happens, things fly, but nothing is more exciting than when a beach-umbrella breaks free and does summersaults down the beach. Everyone either tries to catch it or dodge it, depending on their skill sets. I was unpleasantly surprised when a big red café umbrella attacked me during one of those gusts. Joe shot out two hands to hold the beer and wine while I wrestled for my life. Oddly enough, none of the servers batted an eye. The two older ladies that the offending umbrella belonged to came over and pried it off of me. Joe proudly pointed out that he’d saved my wine.

Speaking of wine, Portugal is wine country, but it’s also beer and coffee country. These people take their coffee really, really seriously. Every apartment we’ve stayed in has an espresso machine. After every meal, especially dinner, the servers offer an espresso. As anyone who knows me can attest, I love good wine, but if I had to choose between coffee and wine… I’d choose coffee. The only problem here is ordering cappuccino. Most places do it perfectly, but others add whipped cream to the top! Seriously? Whipped cream? And one place served me a cappuccino made from a package, fully loaded with sugar. Yuck. But the vast majority of cafés serve excellent espresso and cappuccino.

The table wine is always good, well not always, but usually. A few times we’ve gotten a bottle with dinner when Joe wants wine. On our forty-fifth anniversary (of when we started dating) we shared a bottle of wine at an Italian restaurant. The waiter did a little dance for us and posed for a picture afterwards.

Last night Joe took me out for my birthday to Metrópole, a steakhouse. It was super fancy and the service was amazing. I felt like I was in London or Paris or someplace. They even had a little button at the table you could push if you wanted a server. I would say ‘your’ server, but Portugal doesn’t tip, so everyone takes care of every table. I got the T-bone steak and Joe got the pineapple boat full of curried shrimp. We split a bottle of wine from the Alentejo region. It was a magical night. We even had dessert—a brownie covered in Belgium chocolate. Yum.

My mouth is watering now. It’s time for our breakfast… scrambled eggs and diced ham. We have this almost every day to make sure we get our protein before heading out into carb-land. Avoiding carbs here is a lot of work.