Vale do Lobo, 2009 Monday 15 June: We were up til late last night, packing at the eleventh hour. Still weary, we wipe the sleep from our eyes and make way to the airport at 5am. Ouch. At Gatwick, we wait in a check-in queue that is akin to the length of the Nile. We are then submitted to the standard poking, prodding, searching, security checks at the airport. Removing shoes, removing belts, removing laptops. At 6am, I am mildly unamused. I sleep through the flight and am surprised to find myself landing in a muggy grey landscape. I hadn't checked the forecast, but I was told that Portuguese summers were guaranteed to be scorching hot (and I had packed accordingly). Still, away from British soil, even the weather seems wonderful, overcast or otherwise. In stark
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