Lisboa

I battled more travel delays as the train I tried to board to reach cherished family members in the Algarve was full. I decided instead to enjoy the simple pleasures of life and holidays by buying grapes and eating them in the park and drinking multiple meia de leite coffees as I’m so shattered from the long journey. I remembered how much I love a European supermarket, and Portuguese ones are no exception.

I eventually rocked up in the Algarve in the afternoon at a random train station in Loulé. Taxis are hard to get in rural Portugal but one finally showed up and I knew it had been worth the wait when the driver was playing Toploader as I scrambled inside.

I am staying somewhere down the beach from where the family is lodged. It is reminiscent of Benidorm for Portuguese and Russian tourists. As I checked in the guy at the counter revealed he was born in Angola, and two older women seated in chairs in reception were Mozambican-born, in Beira and Mocimboa da Praia respectively. I remarked how sad it was that the instability in Cabo Delgado Province had pretty much destroyed towns like Mocimboa da Praia and caused the population to flee, but the lady wasn’t in the mood for chatting.

After commenting on Mozambican insurgencies and dumping my bags I headed across the town to locate my family in a restaurant. It was lovely to be reunited, slip into the spare seat at the table and tuck into the pizza they’d ordered. The restaurant served glasses of port to finish as a nod to Portuguese tradition.