We arrived in Portugal a little shell-shocked following a strange, turbulent but fun final year in our old lives. Deciding for a range of reasons that IT support and Stockbroking no longer held the fascination they may once have had a rapidly changing world led us to look for new ways to embrace life. When the countdown finally reached Zero we loaded the last few (Ha!) things into the car in Cambridge and set off to Gateshead and our new life. Following an intriguing few hours unpacking, not sleeping, fixing things and packing up again, we promptly drove all the way back south again again – thanks to the plague all our attempts to fly from the North had been cancelled and the only remaining flight was from Stansted – 15 miles from where we’d started. Offloading the car to our friend Richard (who may never forgive us) a short stop in the Radisson Blu allowed us to plant our feet long enough to clamber on board our airbourne chariot.
Thus it was that the long countdown punctuated with adventures in Plovdiv, Heralec, Luherheide and Gateshead found us in Faro waiting to see if the plans to be collected by our Daughters In-Laws might come to fruition. Indeed following our usual chaotic trust to luck we were indeed collected and taken on an exciting ride through the southern hills of the Algarve to Aramacao de Pera and our home for the next six weeks.
Having been introduced to our quaint little bedsit (as the rooms we were expected to occupy were currently still in use) we sat and reviewed where our reckless choices had left us. It was an excited and rather lively mood that evening when we visited the Villa to meet our hosts and their other guests.
Following a fascinating evening gaining the first inkling of how little we knew of the world and how much fun was on the horizon we fell into bed and slept.