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Archive for the 'Portugal' Category

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Bacalhau

Monday, November 15th, 2004

By the way, John, if you are reading this blog you are welcome to drop me a comment!

Camp Sh*t has a snack bar, the sort of place you’d expect to find on a campsite where you might get a stale sausage roll or, if you’re lucky, a burger and chips. But this is Portugal.
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Camp Sh*t

Sunday, November 14th, 2004

I have a knack of ending up in the most unlikely places when travelling—mine is the only small tent on what is the crappiest campsite I have ever stayed on. There is no sign of any other travellers, just caravaners who seem to have laid down roots here. Our nearest neighbours are not quaint little villages but cement factories (two of them). The view of the estuary is blocked by densely jammed caravans.
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Foodie Heaven

Sunday, November 14th, 2004

Walking down any highstreet in the Algarve I can’t fail to notice the proliferation of expat estate agents. In Lagos, a flat will now set you back 170000�&mdash,not so different from London’s suburbs. It makes me wonder: will bullish Brits and Germans elbow out the local residents and confine them to the hinterlands in a kind of peasant super-ghetto? Or will the EU move in and put a stop to profiteering from residencial properties? I have waited a decade so I won’t hold my breath.
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A Trip to the End of the World

Friday, November 12th, 2004

Its a little disconcerting to walk past a Portugese fort in, well, Portugal. The fronts of old churches likewise transport me straight back to Sri Lanka.

Underneath the fort there is a little beach with coves in the ochre cliffs offering pretty little hideaways for a picnic lunch. The turquoise water laps up on the pale sand and makes me want to jump in but it is cold – this is the Atlantic.
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Driving over Oranges

Thursday, November 11th, 2004

Before I go any further, I must say this internet caff has the best keyboards I have ever seen: the mini– Virtually Indestructible Keyboard!

The clouds that shroud all of Northern Europe had lifted once the plane was in Portugese airspace and this morning I am gently baking in the sun shining from a powderblue sky while people-watching from a café on the cobbled pavement.
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Faro Campsite is closed…

Thursday, November 11th, 2004

…I just wish I had known that before trudging, backpack and all, through the dark, deserted streets of Ilha de Faro. Oh well—you heard it here first.
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