Summer in the Algarve
Back in June, I went on holiday to Faro in Portugal with my sister, her boyfriend and her friends. We booked an apartment near a marina for a period of 5 days, splitting the cost of the accommodation between us. It wasn’t a long holiday but it was enough to get me to relax after my first academic year at university. Surprisingly, quite a lot happened during those 5 days. We jumped in swimming pools, visited the town of Tavira and drank large glasses of white wine at the bar for very little money. I shan’t go into all the details of the things that we did, nor do I think it’s that valuable or entertaining. However, I will talk about our day at the beach. Interestingly enough, that was rather entertaining.
During my holiday in the Algarve, I posted on my story a video of the waves that we witnessed at the beach. On that story I wrote “Feeling the life flash before my eyes swimming in those waves.” This statement probably seemed quite dramatic on first glance because the video didn’t really do the waves any justice. However, it was perhaps the scariest and most memorable experience from my holiday in Portugal. Being in the icy cold water and seeing these large waves break above our heads, was certainly exhilarating but terrifying if I wasn’t a confident swimmer. Whilst it seemed tame on video, it certainly wasn’t tame in real life.
The only part of the day that was tame, was the journey to the beach. Although our apartment was a stone’s throw away from the marina, we were quite a distance away from an actual beach where we could do some swimming. As a result, if we wanted to cool down from the heat of the Algarve, we had to take a ferry to one of the neighbouring islands if we actually wanted to do some swimming. In all honesty, sitting at the top deck of the ferry, feeling an opposing combination of hot summer sun and a cold salty sea breeze stream through my hair, was unnervingly calming considering the calamity that we know was to come through the benefit of hindsight. It was the afternoon by then and that morning felt quite lethargic nevertheless. Perhaps we could have gone to the beach that morning but some of my sister’s friends were sluggish with sleep having stayed up until the early hours of the morning. In the end, we didn’t have much time to spend that day at the beach. But it didn’t matter anyway because it seemed that we were not too keen to stay anyway in the end.
The island was a patchwork of little white houses with their colourful rooftops by the sea. When we arrived, my sister’s friends decided to go to a café first for some food whilst me, my sister and her boyfriend headed straight for the beach. When we got there, the hot sun-cooked sand began to burn the soles of our feet so we quickly lathered on some sun cream and headed straight for the sea. I remembered remarking on how boisterous the waves were and how few people there seemed to be in the sea but for one reason or another, I was rather undeterred and I made tentative steps towards the great depths of the Atlantic Ocean. I would like to say that I strode my way through or perhaps even dived straight in but I found the temperature of the water made me approach the situation with caution. However, in the end, there was only so much caution I could take. The waves had already splashed on me so much, I was practically in already. I decided to put my shoulders in and my sister soon followed. At this point, I stood up briefly to see where my sister was, only to feel the smack of a giant wave against my back that lurched me forward almost instantly. I tumbled towards the shore like tumbleweed down a sand dune, feeling sandy stones knock against my body. My arms scrambled in the water in search for the surface and I emerged from the water as a great heaping mess, with my hair across my face and snot streaming down my nose like that of a child who has just had a tantrum. I instinctively felt my face scrunch up like a child. When my sister emerged from the water too, I turned and said to her “Oh my God, that was awful” as I stumbled around the shore, blinded by the hair across my face.
As me and my sister tried to collect ourselves, my sister’s boyfriend was bobbing peacefully in the sea behind the crest of the waves. When we finally consoled ourselves, me and my sister waited for the last wave to break before quickly swimming out to him. I’d swiftly learnt that the trick was to get far enough out to sea so that the waves coming in did not break over our heads. When we reached my sister’s boyfriend, we were bobbing peacefully in the water beside him. My sister’s boyfriend then said that the next time a wave comes along, we should try diving into the wave instead of swimming with it. This will prevent us from getting swept up into the shore. “It’s easy” he said, with such confidence that the enthusiasm rubbed off on me too. I thought to myself, “I can do this, what’s so scary about diving into a wave?” As such, I was very keen to try it out. The sea was moving in and out, rocking us side to side like a baby. For a while, we were all hovering there quite peacefully but gradually, the waves grew bigger and bigger even from where we were standing. It felt like a ticking time bomb, as though we were unsure when the next great wave would come. In the end, I soon found myself standing in the sea with another big wave towering beside me. My sister’s boyfriend said “Right, this is when you dive” and he shot through the wave like a torpedo. However, since I am incredibly hesitant with anything that seems scary, I was a bit late to the game and before I thought of diving, a big sandy wave hit me on the side of my face, lurching me towards the shore once more.
I found myself dragging my feet up the sandy shore to our towels, completely defeated. I sat slumped over my knees, eyes scrunched with salty sun cream and snot streaming down my nose unattractively. I whelped sarcastically like a child and my sister’s boyfriend sat beside me and patted my shoulder patronisingly. “There, there you’re all right” he said, jokingly. My sister made her way up the shore in a similar condition and sat beside me, slumped in a similar defeated manner. As she sat down, she said “Oh my God, that was awful. I’m never going back in that sea again!” For the rest of that afternoon, I sat in the sun, burying my legs in sand out of boredom but thankful that I made it out of that sea alive.
Later, my sister’s friends came to the beach after having lunch at the café. We decided to tell them about our traumatic experience trying to swim in the sea. I remember telling my sister’s best friend how rough the sea was whilst we were swimming. She said “Oh really, it doesn’t look that bad.” It turns out that she and one of my sister’s other friends (who decided, for one reason or another, to go in the sea with his clothes on) fell for the same deception that we fell for and decided to give swimming in the sea a go. They and my sister’s boyfriend, who was still unfazed by the experience, advanced confidently towards the sea. They even waded into the water swiftly, in a manner that seemed they were undaunted by its chilling temperature. When I witnessed this, I thought for a split second that they would make it further than we did. However, I then saw the sea recede and yet another huge wave build up. It seemed more menacing than the waves we experienced not long before. I didn’t watch the full events as they unfolded but I do remember seeing my sister’s best friend afterwards, completely taken out by the sea. She was sat down in the water, with her hair across her face, as waves were rushing past her rapidly. My sister’s boyfriend and my sister’s friend (who didn’t change into his swimming trunks), managed to make it further out. However, in that moment, one of the life guards ran out to sea blowing his whistle to signal to them to leave. It turns out that when me and my sister were swimming, the flag was orange. By the time my sister’s friends went swimming, the flag changed to red. After the life guards intervened, we decided to call it a day and we made our way back to our apartment.
Walking around the apartment after a day at the beach was certainly an interesting experience. Every step I took at every turn was met with the sound of sand and stones dropping to the floor that my swimsuit collected like a fishing net from the sea. It was like unearthing the entire beach having a shower and getting changed into something more comfortable and I think this was very much the case for everyone who decided to swim that day.
Thankfully, we were all able to have a shower and make ourselves look more presentable. That evening, we decided to go to a restaurant for food. It was a Spanish restaurant chain that my sister and her boyfriend tried out whilst they were on holiday in Seville. It served mini portions of food like mini pizzas, mini hotdogs and mini burgers that you could have alongside your choice of alcohol. Yes, this was the restaurant that served large glasses of white wine for very little money and I think it’s fair to say that it was the perfect place to go to after a hectic day at the beach. I had nachos with guacamole, mini hot dogs and mini pizzas alongside a generous glass of white wine that only costed two euros. By any means, it was not the diet of an athlete but it was an enjoyable evening and a great way to relax.
The only thing that was not so relaxing were the locals cheering loudly for Portugal as they were watching the Euros that evening. But, what can I say? I am not such a fan of football.
Have you ever been to Portugal? Let me know in the comments below and I’ll be sure to reply to them. I love hearing what you have to say!
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See you next time,
Bye,
XOX, Juliette