Booked it, packed it, fucked off.

A week after getting back from Portugal, and after letting it all sink in, I can write about it without the nice warm glow of post holiday happiness.

Of course, before the holiday even started we had the worry and uncertainty of going through our own airport security. In the end we had nothing to worry about, it was very quick and painless, apart from having to remove your* shoes to go through the metal detector.

Faro airport is one of the better foreign airports I have queued in, but then it was in at the deep end with our hire car. It was the first time I had driven on the wrong side of the road legally. Thirty five minutes later we were at our villa. What I like about Portuguese drivers is that they drive quite slowly and a very patient with holiday makers in crappy little hire cars. We called ours Ronaldo; I’ll let you work out why.

Because we booked very late we ended with one of those “oh my god” moments when we got to the villa. I expected a one bedroom hovel in a big complex, sharing a pool with a thousand micturating children. What we got was a four bedroom mansion with its own pool amid a beautifully landscaped garden, with a fantastic view of one of the many golf courses. Fully equipped, beautifully decorated and a welcome food pack waiting for us. What a start !

Unfortunately that’s about it. Don’t get me wrong, the place was lovely, the weather was superb and we had a great time. Yeah there’s a but. We had a great time because we really enjoy being together. We could have done the things we did in Portugal at home. There was nothing about the place that has made me miss it. When I look back at previous trips I can think… “Remember standing in front of the Sphinx ?” or “how fantastic was it when we swam with Dolphins ?” In Portugal it was “That Monkfish was nice”

We had some nice nights out, especially around the marina at Villamoura and an interesting morning at a time-share place (more on that later). I suppose it was a good chilling out holiday and maybe I was expecting too much.

I have some good pics but at the moment I can’t get them online. I need some server space somewhere out there in cyberspace. I’m working on getting one of my own, or funding the Taxdodger to get his sorted. Either way it may be a while.

* I know it should be "one's shoes" but I can't bring myself to write it. I would never say it so I don't know why it bothers me so much. Must be my age.