"Because I Said So"

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I can't see Randy in the corridor outside our room, and he doesn't seem to be at breakfast either. I think that maybe he's still recovering from last night's libations, but I mustn't get complacent. I'm sure he's still got Issy in his sights, and will be lurking somewhere in the shadows waiting to lure her away.

We collect Barbie and head for the fishing port of Olhao which is about fifty kilometres east of Albufeira. It was recommended to Barbie by her daughter Andrea, who comes to the Algarve nearly every year. It appears to be a very serious port, with a large harbour and dock area. It's Saturday, which is apparently market day. The traffic's heavy, and we come to a standstill next to the main market on the waterfront in front of the old town.

The market's in full swing. It doesn't look like there's too much that you wouldn't be able to buy here - fish by the boatload, meat, fruit, vegetables, clothes, jewellery and toys. The food's mostly in the formal undercover section, and the rest's outdoors. Issy suggests that I hand over my wallet and leave her and Barbie to market shopping while I go exploring. Market shopping isn't high on my list of preferred recreational activities, so I'm more than happy to comply.

I head out onto the main pier. Olhao isn't right on the coast; the area in front of the waterfront's a series of river channels running between islands and mud banks, all of which seem to be well populated with birds. We read that this is part of the massive Nature Park of Ria Formosa, which extends for some sixty kilometres along the coast. It was established to conserve the river system and its associated migratory bird and other flora and fauna habitats.

There's a rotunda in the park along the waterfront, with a restaurant on the bottom level and some stairs up onto the roof. I start to climb the stairs to see if I can get a better view. I then hear a voice behind me yelling at me in Portuguese. The person doing the yelling seems to be a waitress, and I ask her if she could please yell at me in English instead. She tells me that I can't go up the stairs, and when I ask why she responds with "because I said so". I think that maybe I should be flattered that she thinks I'm a four year old. "Because I said so" doesn't however seem like a particularly compelling reason, and in any event I'm not at all sure that she's got any jurisdiction over the rotunda roof, which is in a public park. She does however look very mean, and I begin to wonder whether some of her fisherman friends might only be too happy to use me as shark bait, so I decide that it might be better not to argue.

I head into the backstreets of the old town. It's not at all touristy like Albufeira and Lagos and seems to be a genuine working fishing town. The old town's a maze of narrow streets and alleyways, interspersed with squares surrounded by cafes. It's very attractive. Most of the old buildings have traditional wrought iron balconies and are faced with ceramic tiles.

I head back to the market, where Issy very kindly tells me that my wallet is now empty. There wasn't much in it to start with, so this seems like a relatively small price to pay for not having been subjected to an hour of market shopping. We wander together through the backstreets, and Barbie and I head into a church. There's a coffin standing on its end just inside the front door, and a body laid out on the floor in front of the altar with people praying over it. We wonder whether it's standard practice here to wait until after the funeral to put the corpse into the coffin, but now doesn't feel like quite the right time to ask .... We leave quickly.

We head back to Albufeira and set up shop on the Santa Eulalia beach. Barbie and I head in for a swim. The water's freezing, and Barbie comments that it feels just like the English Channel ..... which leaves me wondering why so many Brits come here, well it did for the millisecond or so until I remembered about the English weather.

We catch a taxi into town, and I sit up the front next to the driver. I think I've been driving too much. As our transport goes too quickly down the hill outside the hotel I try to put on the brakes, and then wonder why I'm surprised when my foot hits the floor rather than a pedal. I compliment the driver on his English. He says that sometimes it'd be better if he didn't speak or understand any English. He says that he has to drive lots of drunk British tourists around. He says that most of them think that they're better than him, and he has to pretend that he doesn't understand their abuse. This is very sad. He says that he can't understand why anyone would spend thousands of dollars to come here on holiday and then spend the whole time drunk. He says he's been driving a taxi in the Algarve since he left the army in 1983, but will soon retire to a house he owns on the coast between here and Lisbon. He says he's got friends in Australia. He says he'd love to go so that he could see a kangaroo, but he's too scared of the snakes. We seem to hear that a lot.

Barbie says that she's been eyeing a restaurant in the main square that serves traditional Portuguese food. The tables are on the rooftop and the views are good. The menu seems to be mainly tapas, which I'd thought were more Spanish. When we leave we realise that we came to the wrong place; we were supposed to be in the traditional Portuguese eatery next door. Ah well. We bid our farewells to Barbie. We leave for Lisbon tomorrow morning, but she's staying on for another day. We've had a lot of fun with her.

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