Last night (back to dinner) was a very pleasant evening: drinks in the bar, a lovely meal – the chef there obviously knows his or her stuff. We both avoided duck, having admired the white ducks in the hotel grounds, just in case they were hotel pets.
The morning went relatively smoothly apart from nearly missing the hotel transfer bus (we had booked it but the other passengers obviously boarded early and were agitating to leave before the designated time). Meanwhile I was struggling from the room with my share of the recalcitrant baggage, the spouse having (luckily) gone on ahead to secure the bus.
Check-in went smoothly and security was packed but we managed to choose all the right lanes and were through in plenty of time for breakfast (full Engulish for him, Eggs Benedict for me) and boarding when again we managed to be near the front so were on practically first (after all the speedy boarders).
The flight proved uneventful, which is sometimes the best you can ask for these days, with a slight delay due to strong head winds. Our bags – all four heavily laden of them – were among the first out, and we were good to go. Oh, wait, we had to go to Europcar for the rental car James had booked. Nearly an hour later and we were on our way from Faro airport to Lagos marina.
Good thing we had an estate car – it took all the bags. John and Ana Paula were at the marina when we arrived. John, who was the broker when James bought has been doing a lot of work on the baot and co-ordinating a lot of the other work. No of course nothing major, just tidying up stuff.
Ana Paula, John’s wife, has been a godsend with helping to unravel Portuguese red tape and rushed off to the post office with us to get a series drogue. That’s a vital piece of equipment for when things go horribly wrong, so I am hoping we never have to deploy it.
There is such a long story behind that and the red tape that my one glass of vinho verde is not enough. Suffice it to say it has taken ages, including the two weeks when the marina office didn’t tell James he had the letter from customs telling him it had arrived.
The other drama has been the radar and again one glass of wine isn’t enough but the important bit arrived today. Again, with help from John and Ana Paula after James had a hissy fit online with everyone because they tried to deliver it to the wrong address. That has involved Ralf up the mast in one of the two bosun’s chairs (another long story), and pliers and cable ties also featured heavily.
At that point I became a dedicated landlubber, having started the tedious process of unpacking and trying to find places for everything, and headed into town for a little mooch. And I am now sitting in the sun writing this and realizing that it is going to be difficult to continue this level of blogging once the adventure is underway. But I’ll do what I can. If I have time, given all the unpacking and washing up.