From the Algarve to Lisbon

It was going to be one of the highlights of our vacation.

Yes, we had already done some kayaking in the Algarve but we had done so with a guided tour and in a tandem kayak. DW are used to leading our own trek in our own, single-person kayaks.

And we had rented two sea kayaks, to be out on the Atlanic Ocean, on our own, before sunrise. Our destination: the Benagil Cave.

There are many tour companies that try to sell you a guided trip to this landmark site, along with as many people as they can fit on a boat. But the boats only go into the cave and don't land, nor do they let you off. And, at the time of day in which these tours are held, the cave is full of people, vying for that great shot.

We wanted to get to the cave ahead of most people by arriving before sunrise. Only the hard-core adventurers get up that early. And because we were going in late September, a large number of tourists were gone for the season.

Take Potato Beach, in Lagos, for example. DW and I were one of only a couple of early birds on the beach for sunrise, and we were the only ones to watch the sun from in front of the Student Bridge, the old Roman overpass.

The only way to get to Benagil Caves was by water. There is no land access. You either have to swim or paddle the 200-or-so metres from the beach. And depending on the ocean conditions, it can be a rough swim.

Fortunately, DW and I are experienced kayakers and we expected the trek to be a cake walk. We had reserved the kayaks for 7:00, nearly a half hour before sunrise. Plenty of time to paddle into the cave and set up my camera gear.

We would take a few photos, enjoy the beauty of the cave, and then kayak a bit along the Algarve coastline before having to return our kayaks, at 8:30.

We were sitting on the balcony of our Portimão hotel, eating piri piri chicken and sipping sangria when the message arrived on my smartphone: our reservation had been moved to 8:30, well after sunrise and only a half hour before many tours began.

But that wasn't our only setback. By starting an hour and a half later than we had planned, we would be rushed to get back to our hotel with enough time to shower, pack, and check out. We also had a train to catch at 11:30 and couldn't miss it.

We were heading to Lisbon today.

I contacted the rental agency and told them that the new time would not work. I also expressed my displeasure at having our reservation altered only nine hours before we were scheduled to be there, and yet they required 24 hours from us if we wanted to cancel. I expected a full refund, I told them.

With our kayaking plans changed, we had to notify our hotel that our breakfast plans needed to change. Breakfast was included with our reservation but you needed to schedule a time in which you planned to eat, so that they wouldn't be overcrowded at one time. Fortunately, they were able to change our time without a problem.

The cancellation also meant that we had more time to go to the Portimão Museum. We had planned to go after our kayaking, after breakfast, and after we had checked out but with the time we had, we feared that we might only be able to visit the museum for a short time, if at all. Now, we could take our time.

Old smokestack for museum, which was once a sardine factory (photo by DW).

The hotel offered to hold our bags for us, but we declined. Because the hotel was on the beach and the museum was in town, not far from the train station, we'd need to take our bags with us. And as we found out, at the museum, they had large lockers that, for one euro each, held all of our stuff.

And, as a further bonus, we learned that the museum was free on Fridays.

The museum held interesting artifacts of a fishing town and gave us a good glimpse of what it was like, more than 100 years ago, to live and work near a sardine processing and canning factory. It also showed what it was like to live on the sea.

We ordered an Uber to take us from the museum to the train station, and we arrived with about 10 minutes to spare to catch our first train, to Tunes, from where we'd transfer onto a faster train, to Lisbon.

I've already described our layover, in Tunes, so I won't repeat it here, except only to say that DW and I are still talking about the fabulous meal and hospitality at Zig Zag Restaurant.

We were so stuffed from lunch, plus we had also shared a bottle of wine and a couple of glasses of a digestif, so we snoozed for about an hour on the train. I remember snippets of passing small towns, farms, and orchards, and we were glued to our window as we rolled through Almada, where we could see the Santuário de Cristo Rei—the giant statue of Jesus that resembled the one in Rio de Janeiro. Sitting on the left side of the train, we could see the western end of Lisbon, with the Monument to the Discoveries and, further down, the Belém Tower, as we crossed the Tagus River from high above, on the 25 de Abril Bridge.

We got off the train at Campolide Station and transferred onto a subway that took us to the Baixa-Chiado metro station. Because we had purchased our Viva metro cards on the morning that we had first flown into Portugal, and had loaded the cards up, we had no delays in getting to our destination.

Also, on our journey from Tunes to Lisbon, I had notified our Airbnb host of our ETA to the apartment that we were renting for the next eight nights. Once out of the Baixa-Chiado metro station, I contacted her again to say that we were less than 10 minutes away.

We got to the apartment just seconds ahead of Carla, our host (different Carla from Lagos).

The apartment was small but cozy, furnished with modern comforts. There was a small living room with two lounge chairs and a table in a corner with two more chairs, for eating. Doors opened onto a small balcony that looked down onto the street corner, three stories below.

A bed was behind a sheer curtain and wooden braces—part of what would guard against earthquakes. The bathroom and galley kitchen were separated from the bedroom by a corridor that had a night table and closets.

As I said, the room was small but it was clean and had everything we needed, including WiFi. I'd be able to publish blog posts while we were here.

DW and I don't tend to linger in hotels and guest houses. They are purely a place to rest our heads and get cleaned up. We spend almost all of our time exploring. And this place also had a kitchen, where we could prepare breakfast of light meals, should we not want to dine out.

Carla showed us where everything was and told us that if we had any questions to not hesitate to ask. When we asked for a recommendation for a good Fado bar (Fado is traditional Portuguese music that originated in Lisbon), she gave us the name of one that was essentially below us and two doors over. She suggested that we go for the show but to skip the dinner.

She handed us our keys, pointed out a small bottle of Ginja—a cherry liqueur that was a specialty of Portugal, particularly, Lisbon—and left us on our own.

We freshened up and then made our way to the closest grocery store, where we bought some essentials, stopped at a convenience store, where we stocked up on water, and then returned to the apartment. Neither of us was hungry and we discussed how we had been essentially going non-stop for a week, so we decided to stay in for the evening, to take advantage of the fact that we had a washing machine in the apartment, and did a proper load of laundry.

With no dryer in the apartment, we did as the Portuguese did: we hung our clothes on a line, outside the windows.

I wrote a couple of blog posts, we caught up on social media, and went to bed early, with the buzz of the nightlife below us. Bairro Alto is known for its bars, Fado music, and clubs. On a weekend, establishments can be open all night. Thankfully, with our windows and shutters closed, the sound dropped to a dull roar and we were able to fall asleep.

The next day was going to be a busy one. Stay tuned.