there ish no nando'sh in portugal

So, between monarch nuptials and drunken stupors, the Brit and I managed to get away for a mini four day break to Portugal.

We put sunblock on at Gatwick airport. We were keen okes. Only to arrive at Faro, on the Portuguese Algarve, to rain.

Because rain is as common as air in our lives, this usually wouldn't matter. However we knew that back in the UK, temperatures had reached a temperate 28 degrees and people were getting tans in their gardens.

No matter, we found patches of sun and devoured a platter of king prawns, explored the local town and smashed a few caiprinhas for good measure.
It was really rather nishe.

Shee, we ended up shpeaking like thish for the resht of the long weekend. Kind of like the Dutch, but more like the guy who doesh the Nando'sh advertsh.

Not that we saw a Nando's in Portugal.

We were staying on a touristy stomping ground, the Praia da Rocha, in the town of Portimao.
The first thing that struck me, is that they use the same black and white bricks to line the pavements and beaches as they do in Rio de Janeiro.
The boulevards were long and wide, and there was that art deco type of architecture that you see in Inhambane in Mozambique.

They also dig putting tiles all over some of their buildings, which was pretty special.


On the second day we took the slowest train in the world - a proper chugger that felt like it was going to stall half the time - along the coast to the town of Lagos.

Lagos. In Portugal not Nigeria. Lagosh.


It was gorgeous. The beaches are so unique on the Algarve. These amazing rocky coves, on a background of green sea, and this Mediterranean - Atlantic plant life everywhere. It reminded me a bit of the fynbos in Cape Town. All very bright and deciduous, thanks to the cold ocean.


We got a beach day in, soaked up the sun good and proper on our deck chairs. Next thing we heard a "Howzit guys, ma name is Maachael, would you laak some aace?"

We met so many Porra people from Joburg South. It was amazing. Many had come over to work in their ancestral land and had never left. Maachael included.

It was sad to leave. Hell, we'd imbimbed the peri peri something chronic.
It was a truly unique part of Europe.