remembering sunshine: beach holiday, march/april 07

winter in western europe.  rain, sleet, more rain, snow (!), slush.  november til may.  i find myself frequently clicking thru fotos with sun in the backdrop...  

we take our first european beach holiday with fellow american expats in england, the terrells. we think we find a house online which seems suitable for two sets of parents; an au pair; boys ages 2, 3, 4; girl age 2:  pool, five bedrooms, short walk to the beach, yet in a private neighborhood...

for future home rentals we know now to ask...  

1.  not if swimming is possible all year, but if the pool is heated.  

2.  not if the pool is enclosed, but if it includes a safety cover.

3.  not if we need central heating, but if there is a continual alternative fuel supply (i.e. wood, gas, etc.)

so...

after two nights we pack our bags and migrate to a perfectly suitable hotel which still reeks of the 70s (wood paneling on the walls, modular furniture, orange/olive/turquoise color scheme-- real, not retro-- and fantastic) with ocean views.  and sugared almonds available in enormous glass jars in the lobby.

chris immediately purchases a portugal football jersey for joe with christiano ronaldo's number on the back and which joe wears every day, much to the delight of EVERY local.  smart evertson.  the portuguese people with which we interact are charmed and in turn, turn on their incredible charm.  

we worship the sun as never before.  

we dig in the sand.  

the boys go whale-watching and actually see a whale, but "daddy forgot the camera!!!"  

after receiving reproachful looks from the staff from my copious almond-picking, i pull joe's jersey over his head and drag him to the lobby with me a few times a day to support my new habit and the staff begins to just offer me the jar.

i love this place.

and then we eat out.  

and i love this place even more.

a shack on the beach.  the owner sizes us up and hands us a menu including BEANS ON TOAST.   (foreshadowing, i know now).  chad loves to eat good food more than anyone i know, and he pulls the lady aside and tells her we want to eat what she would feed her family, not what she feeds the british tourists.  she shows us another menu, written in portuguese, with entrees especially for the easter holiday.  we tell her to make us what she likes.  she seems dubious, but complies.  and thus we eat fabulously.  baccala, green wine, fish stew, green wine, roasted squid, green wine, pork, green wine.  a portuguese "big night."

a restaurant under the railroad tracks.  dogs on leashes, babies in laps, football on the big screen.  whole fish, green wine, fish stew, green wine, you get the picture.

portuguese food is like the best country cooking, liberal on meat grease, but with the addition of seafood.  it is divine.

lasting results?  chris and i still have our local wines shop order us bottles of green wine.  the kids watch football just to hear the announcers yell "and ronaldo scores!"  then they cheer like crazy.