Well, February just flew by, taking us a bit by surprise to tell the truth. We had expected to be long gone by the end of February, but the decks just continued to be scraped and caulked, a process that took up much more of our time than anticipated. However it is all done now, and by doing it ourselves we saved at least €4000 so we are well pleased with our efforts, and we hope that the black stuff stays in place when we head into the Med and the decks bake in the summer heat.
Frustratingly the weather sensed that we were ready to leave and moved in with a week of frontal systems trailing down from the UK and destabilizing our lovely spring sunshine. But, eventually we managed to cut the umbilical cord to the pontoon, say goodbye to some friends and hasta luego (see you later) to others. …….
Alvor
Once out of the marina we headed for the nearest anchorage at Alvor (a huge voyage of 3.5miles). Motoring in amongst the huge sand-dunes and hundreds of wading and migratory birds, to the fishing port was beautiful. You could spend weeks here at anchor – some even anchor their boats here for the winter and head back home, it is so well protected. We enjoyed a few days of chilling out here, staying clean by visiting the nearby sports centre for a swim in their fantastic new 25m pool. Unfortunately the village has sold its soul to the devil and the bars are full of the sort of English and Irish people that you really don’t want to meet on holiday, and the live music was even more terrible than that of Lagos ….. we would never have thought it was possible.
Portimao/Ferragudo
After a few days we said adieu to Pam and Keith on Two Easy – who had also left Lagos for the quiet and calm of Alvor, not to mention a huge saving to the budget of around €20 per day. The disadvantage of Alvor is that the entrance is tidal so we just exited at high water and cruised along to Portimao/Ferragudo to anchor in the river opposite the tacky new marina buildings. The weather kept us there for a couple of days before we could be released to attempt a move to Albufiera or Vilamoura. However cold, strong easterly winds and the combined effects of a southerly and easterly sea drove us back to Portimao to lick our wounds. The following day we were rewarded for our patience with a downwind sail in an offshore force 5-6 over a flat sea that kept us flying along all the way to the Faro/Ohlao lagoon entrance. It was just too good to stop at Vilamoura!!!
Faro/Ohlao
Turning to enter into the lagoon we had 32 knots of wind over the deck, no wonder we had a quick trip. We crept up the narrow channels of the lagoon to Olhao, where we were directed to anchor in the last space in the anchorage next to the marina. The marina was built a few years back, and still is in the process of development. Currently (March 2007) there is electricity on some pontoons, no water ( except by dinghy at the fishing boat marina) and no showers/toilets. The marina is full of local and long-term boats paying very cheap rates, and there is only one slot available for emergencies.
It was no hardship to anchor in this small space though, as we had a fresh fish, meat and veg market 100m from our doorstep and a free internet connection (by putting the external wifi antenna in a round bottomed cooking pot pointing at the Algarve Digital connection on the wharf!! – this is a technique we learnt from a Dutch couple in Cascais)
We could have anchored in the lagoon off Ilha Culatra, protected from any swell by the sand-spits all around, but the NW wind was cold and fierce and we were on mission to get to Spain by Easter so we pushed on. It is another anchorage where boats are left for the winter months while their owners go and visit their homelands…. As we were leaving, we met David and Liz on Kjemperjekk on their way into the lagoon – the only Lagos boat that we have seen in 2 weeks despite the number of boats leaving at around the same time, bound east for the Med.
Ayamonte
A short sail / motor found us at Ayamonte in Spain, at the entrance to the Guardiana river. It was fantastic to only pay 13 Euros per night and to go out for tapas again. Although Portugal was delightful, and the cost of living in Spain is higher, it is good to be able to explore another culture again, and to have different choices of food in restaurants, later hours and possibly to enjoy a more independent and thriving economy. Without wanting to knock the Portuguese, even in the smallest Spanish villages the mood seems to be more positive and upbeat.
When we met Portuguese people we were impressed by their calm and tolerant nature, respectful and helpful. They seem to achieve great changes, albeit slowly, by persistent efforts of democratic action. Unfortunately the police state was overturned only 35 years ago, and some unbelievable bureaucracy persists in all areas of government agencies. As long as you do not have to deal with these agencies, Portugal is a heart-warmingly nice place to be, but it was time to move on. We arrived in Spain just 2 days short of spending 6 months in Portugal. After 6 months, you are in theory subject to a boat tax. We were informed that this is rarely enforced, and usually by a raid on a marina. The taxes are subject to a very complicated formula, but would only be around £40 a year. The worst aspect is the inconvenience, as the tax has to be paid on one day of the year, in the post office, on the same day that the annual road tax is due, and most post office officials appear to have gone to post office training camp with the UK PO of the 1970’s. One day we waited over an hour just to post a single letter to the UK and it appears that smiling and courtesy have been banned in post offices throughout the country.
And another thing – spoken Portuguese is the most difficult language to understand and to speak. Despite a lot of effort, we failed miserably to communicate with local people outside of the tourist destinations. Now it’s time to start trying to speak Spanish again, after so many hours spent at night school…….
On paying our fees at the Ayamonte marina office, we discovered that Matador has also been here before, in August 1997, on its previous voyage. Déjà vu of a different sort.
After an overnight stop, we set off up the Guardiana river, which forms the border between Spain and Portugal. This creates endless possibilities for not knowing the correct time ( Spain is 1 hour ahead) and for creating offence by flying the wrong courtesy flag!
San Lucar (Spain) and Alcoutim (Portugal)
At the entrance to the river is a low road bridge, which the pilot book claims has a clearance ‘reported to be 20m at high water’. The top of our mast is 17m high, so this resulted in a few minutes of buttock-clenching as the tide pushed us unrelentingly under the bridge. The view from the cockpit was not for the faint-hearted, and a huge sigh of relief resulted as we emerged unscathed the other side.
We motored up the most un-spoilt, un-developed river that we have ever seen and anchored between the frontier villages 25km upstream at Alcoutim/San Lucar. A few fincas and quintas (small-holdings) scatter the waterfront, many of them taken over by English and Dutch families escaping the rat-race to till the land, replacing the old local families whose children have long-ago gone off to seek their fortunes in the same rat-race in the bigger towns and cities. The local action was between a few dogs patrolling the villages, but once ashore the villages had a quiet, laid-back character and a couple of well disguised bars contained the few locals who ventured out to watch football on the bar telly….
We enjoyed a few beers with Robert, an English guy who bought a finca 15 years ago, before going off to enjoy the Caribbean and beyond in his Trintella 29. He entrusted us with his DVD collection to entertain us during the evenings in the river – after all, he knows how lively things get around here!
The next day we climbed the Spanish side to the old fort with fantastic views of the river and the surrounding countryside. There is just nothing but rolling hills to see on both sides of the river. At some time hopefully, it will be made a national park on both sides of the river, to preserve the natural beauty of the area in both countries.
There were many live-aboard boats left safely at anchor for months (years?) in the river, and not a single plastic fantastic production boat to be seen.
We then moved upstream to Pomorao (Portugal), a tiny one-bar village left over from the mining of sulphur and manganese, which were exported in large ships in the late 1800’s. The river has silted considerably since then, and we hit several shallow patches approaching the village. We turned back and anchored half a mile below the village, unaware at the time that our attempts had been the subject of considerable amusement to the locals …….o barco azul ?? everyone said as they met us in the bar. Yes, we replied sheepishly as they nodded their heads knowingly. The town marina (pontoon) captain and also captain of the local tourist ferry, of course knew the channel through to the town quay and offered to show us through but we were just as happy at anchor ½ a mile down river in the tranquility of it all. It is perfectly possible to negotiate the shallows to reach the small pontoon on the village jetty and stay for some time for free.
The single bar was the cheapest yet – €1 for a wine and a beer together. If you want to be a member for the year to enjoy cheap drinking, free showers and hospitality it costs a whole €6 to be a member – very worthwhile we thought, although time-at-the-bar happened at around 8.45pm
Having learned our lessons, we made our next exploration up the tiny Rio Vasco in the dinghy, and found some small native terrapins sunning themselves on the bank. Stuart did a bit of fishing – I was right to be pessimistic, and cooked up leftovers with lentils which was surprisingly yummy, to accompany our DVD-watching marathon before returning Roberts collection the next day.
On returning downstream we dropped off the DVD’s and were greeted on the riverbank by Robert with a gift of a bucket-full of mandarins straight from the trees on his finca. They were heavenly. We can well understand the attraction of owning a small-holding on the riverbank with your yacht moored at the end of the garden, and wonder when we will see a place and people as naturally beautiful and open as this again.
This was really the end of Portugal for us and we had a fast sail under genoa back downstream to Ayamonte. The passing of the bridge was only slightly less worrying the second time around.
Frustratingly the weather sensed that we were ready to leave and moved in with a week of frontal systems trailing down from the UK and destabilizing our lovely spring sunshine. But, eventually we managed to cut the umbilical cord to the pontoon, say goodbye to some friends and hasta luego (see you later) to others. …….
Alvor
Once out of the marina we headed for the nearest anchorage at Alvor (a huge voyage of 3.5miles). Motoring in amongst the huge sand-dunes and hundreds of wading and migratory birds, to the fishing port was beautiful. You could spend weeks here at anchor – some even anchor their boats here for the winter and head back home, it is so well protected. We enjoyed a few days of chilling out here, staying clean by visiting the nearby sports centre for a swim in their fantastic new 25m pool. Unfortunately the village has sold its soul to the devil and the bars are full of the sort of English and Irish people that you really don’t want to meet on holiday, and the live music was even more terrible than that of Lagos ….. we would never have thought it was possible.
After a few days we said adieu to Pam and Keith on Two Easy – who had also left Lagos for the quiet and calm of Alvor, not to mention a huge saving to the budget of around €20 per day. The disadvantage of Alvor is that the entrance is tidal so we just exited at high water and cruised along to Portimao/Ferragudo to anchor in the river opposite the tacky new marina buildings. The weather kept us there for a couple of days before we could be released to attempt a move to Albufiera or Vilamoura. However cold, strong easterly winds and the combined effects of a southerly and easterly sea drove us back to Portimao to lick our wounds. The following day we were rewarded for our patience with a downwind sail in an offshore force 5-6 over a flat sea that kept us flying along all the way to the Faro/Ohlao lagoon entrance. It was just too good to stop at Vilamoura!!!
Faro/Ohlao
Turning to enter into the lagoon we had 32 knots of wind over the deck, no wonder we had a quick trip. We crept up the narrow channels of the lagoon to Olhao, where we were directed to anchor in the last space in the anchorage next to the marina. The marina was built a few years back, and still is in the process of development. Currently (March 2007) there is electricity on some pontoons, no water ( except by dinghy at the fishing boat marina) and no showers/toilets. The marina is full of local and long-term boats paying very cheap rates, and there is only one slot available for emergencies.
It was no hardship to anchor in this small space though, as we had a fresh fish, meat and veg market 100m from our doorstep and a free internet connection (by putting the external wifi antenna in a round bottomed cooking pot pointing at the Algarve Digital connection on the wharf!! – this is a technique we learnt from a Dutch couple in Cascais)
We could have anchored in the lagoon off Ilha Culatra, protected from any swell by the sand-spits all around, but the NW wind was cold and fierce and we were on mission to get to Spain by Easter so we pushed on. It is another anchorage where boats are left for the winter months while their owners go and visit their homelands…. As we were leaving, we met David and Liz on Kjemperjekk on their way into the lagoon – the only Lagos boat that we have seen in 2 weeks despite the number of boats leaving at around the same time, bound east for the Med.
Ayamonte
A short sail / motor found us at Ayamonte in Spain, at the entrance to the Guardiana river. It was fantastic to only pay 13 Euros per night and to go out for tapas again. Although Portugal was delightful, and the cost of living in Spain is higher, it is good to be able to explore another culture again, and to have different choices of food in restaurants, later hours and possibly to enjoy a more independent and thriving economy. Without wanting to knock the Portuguese, even in the smallest Spanish villages the mood seems to be more positive and upbeat.
When we met Portuguese people we were impressed by their calm and tolerant nature, respectful and helpful. They seem to achieve great changes, albeit slowly, by persistent efforts of democratic action. Unfortunately the police state was overturned only 35 years ago, and some unbelievable bureaucracy persists in all areas of government agencies. As long as you do not have to deal with these agencies, Portugal is a heart-warmingly nice place to be, but it was time to move on. We arrived in Spain just 2 days short of spending 6 months in Portugal. After 6 months, you are in theory subject to a boat tax. We were informed that this is rarely enforced, and usually by a raid on a marina. The taxes are subject to a very complicated formula, but would only be around £40 a year. The worst aspect is the inconvenience, as the tax has to be paid on one day of the year, in the post office, on the same day that the annual road tax is due, and most post office officials appear to have gone to post office training camp with the UK PO of the 1970’s. One day we waited over an hour just to post a single letter to the UK and it appears that smiling and courtesy have been banned in post offices throughout the country.
And another thing – spoken Portuguese is the most difficult language to understand and to speak. Despite a lot of effort, we failed miserably to communicate with local people outside of the tourist destinations. Now it’s time to start trying to speak Spanish again, after so many hours spent at night school…….
On paying our fees at the Ayamonte marina office, we discovered that Matador has also been here before, in August 1997, on its previous voyage. Déjà vu of a different sort.
After an overnight stop, we set off up the Guardiana river, which forms the border between Spain and Portugal. This creates endless possibilities for not knowing the correct time ( Spain is 1 hour ahead) and for creating offence by flying the wrong courtesy flag!
San Lucar (Spain) and Alcoutim (Portugal)
At the entrance to the river is a low road bridge, which the pilot book claims has a clearance ‘reported to be 20m at high water’. The top of our mast is 17m high, so this resulted in a few minutes of buttock-clenching as the tide pushed us unrelentingly under the bridge. The view from the cockpit was not for the faint-hearted, and a huge sigh of relief resulted as we emerged unscathed the other side.
We motored up the most un-spoilt, un-developed river that we have ever seen and anchored between the frontier villages 25km upstream at Alcoutim/San Lucar. A few fincas and quintas (small-holdings) scatter the waterfront, many of them taken over by English and Dutch families escaping the rat-race to till the land, replacing the old local families whose children have long-ago gone off to seek their fortunes in the same rat-race in the bigger towns and cities. The local action was between a few dogs patrolling the villages, but once ashore the villages had a quiet, laid-back character and a couple of well disguised bars contained the few locals who ventured out to watch football on the bar telly….
We enjoyed a few beers with Robert, an English guy who bought a finca 15 years ago, before going off to enjoy the Caribbean and beyond in his Trintella 29. He entrusted us with his DVD collection to entertain us during the evenings in the river – after all, he knows how lively things get around here!
The next day we climbed the Spanish side to the old fort with fantastic views of the river and the surrounding countryside. There is just nothing but rolling hills to see on both sides of the river. At some time hopefully, it will be made a national park on both sides of the river, to preserve the natural beauty of the area in both countries.
There were many live-aboard boats left safely at anchor for months (years?) in the river, and not a single plastic fantastic production boat to be seen.
We then moved upstream to Pomorao (Portugal), a tiny one-bar village left over from the mining of sulphur and manganese, which were exported in large ships in the late 1800’s. The river has silted considerably since then, and we hit several shallow patches approaching the village. We turned back and anchored half a mile below the village, unaware at the time that our attempts had been the subject of considerable amusement to the locals …….o barco azul ?? everyone said as they met us in the bar. Yes, we replied sheepishly as they nodded their heads knowingly. The town marina (pontoon) captain and also captain of the local tourist ferry, of course knew the channel through to the town quay and offered to show us through but we were just as happy at anchor ½ a mile down river in the tranquility of it all. It is perfectly possible to negotiate the shallows to reach the small pontoon on the village jetty and stay for some time for free.
Having learned our lessons, we made our next exploration up the tiny Rio Vasco in the dinghy, and found some small native terrapins sunning themselves on the bank. Stuart did a bit of fishing – I was right to be pessimistic, and cooked up leftovers with lentils which was surprisingly yummy, to accompany our DVD-watching marathon before returning Roberts collection the next day.
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