I’m on the way home from Olhao. I could walk, but today I don’t fancy the 7 miles. The train is the best option.
I walk up the Avenida slowly. The streets are bustling. The bars and cafes are full. Not of drunks, but of people socialising: people chatting, people talking, people discussing, people laughing, people enjoying each other’s company. Drinking coffee, eating Tostas, passing the time…
This part of the Algarve is full of camaraderie. The rest of it might be too, but I don’t know. Here though, if you say ‘Bom Dia’ to someone, they say ‘Bom Dia’ back. They like the fact you say hello. They want to socialise, to chat, to help. There’s humanity here. I love it.
London it’s not!
I get to the station. It’s the normal problem. Which platform to Fuseta?
I ask: ‘Fuseta? Plataforma?’
I have no idea if this is the right word, but it’s what Google Translate tells me.
Anyway, the man in the ticket office gives me a single finger, so I’m presuming it’s Platform 1.
I wander on to the platform.
I see an elderly couple looking confused.
“Where are we going?” the gentleman says to his wife.
“I can’t remember the name, it begins with ‘C’,” his wife replies.
I wander over and hope I’m not interrupting.
“Can I help?”
“Do you know which platform goes to the place beginning with ‘C’?”
I have a think…
“Cacela?”
“Yes! Thank you!”
Hole in one!
“Yes, it’s platform 1. I’m going that way too, but only to Fuseta.”
We start to talk.
They talk about what they’ve been doing. They ask why I’m there. I tell them. I talk about my family. They talk about theirs.”
Life is simple really. You help people. You talk about stuff. You socialise. You smile and enjoy the moment. Then you get off the train, having said goodbye and wished them luck. It’s the Portuguese way, but today, we Brits carried it off quite nicely!
I only hope they made it to Cacela and that Cacela was where they actually wanted to go…
“Blinking Flamingos! The musings of a middle-aged bloke living in the Eastern Algarve: one who has no idea what he’s doing…”