650 – Tuesday 7th March 2017: Costa Nova Beach

Young Robyn (and Kensey) had left for seaside parking – and gave us the ‘cooperativenates’ so we could coordinate our ‘operativemates’!  In other words, James – so we could get there!  Why use 1 word – when 3 will suffice?  Fantastic seaside, wide white sand dunes, boardwalks, Oscarkenseywalks – and peace…  What else could any motorhomer ask for?  En route, we used the Intermarche laundry – for Euro 18 – 2 full loads of washing (2 sets of bedding towels and clothes for nigh on 2 weeks) … several hours later – neither of us dares to put a single pair of knickers in the now empty laundry bag! 

Beach perambulating – and sunset – what comes with setsun? Sundowners, of course…in our Cosy Nostril beach setting…

Wide white sandy beaches 🙂

Sorry Robyn, not the most flattering of you (or me!) but comic as this is James’ best effort at pulling a ‘silly’ face!

 

651 – Wednesday 8th March:  A Beach Day 

An am run – too nice to waste the sea and landscape – easy running… R and K walked to have coffee nearby, taking vannydogs with. Beach sitting, K piknitting (not the other similar word). Later, feeling mellow, we retired all of 200 metres to a bar – for dunsowners – a cheeky white wine. Robyn kindly cooked for us – and a lovely chatty evening… in a very lovely chilled place.  

The houses in the main street are mostly striped – either painted or tiles.  We did spot a candy pink one, which must have been a bit of a drug induced colour pick.

Diddy.

My boys.

652 – Thursday 9th March:  Aveiro and back to Porto

Excitement all round – all of us onto Porto – our third visit?  We stopped off at Alveiro – mini Venice – lovely and sunny – coffee, of course. Services at Esmoriz Intermarche: free, clean and welcoming – UK Asda and Tesco please take note!  Porto lovely free parking on the Duoro, again.  Off to see a performance of Fado (Portuguese folk music) in town – and some port tasting… Fado is melancholic and sad – maybe a tad too sad for us?  But, I wish I could play guitar like that – maybe the 10,000 hours practice rule? 

Aveiro… lots of canals and really laid back.  Could happily have had a lingering lunch here.  Another trip.

Sun hat for J and sun lotion for O on his bald bit of snout.

The Fado guitar is on the left.  Not as melancholic as we’d expected, but we were served a glass of port in the interval.

653 – Friday 10th March:  Rugby

To opticians to collect D4 eye test form – up steep hill – narrow street and mega clutch usage … black smoke billowing – we could taste and smell the outcome.  Appointment later at hospital near parking for JamesMedTest to complete the D4 form for the 70 year old 3.5 tons plus driving license.  More later on my unfamous perambunavating!  K Haute Cuisine for all – and vinoque too…  K here ...As Robyn and I ate, we received a phone call from J as he left the hospital … how do I get back to you?  The phone navigation had been set for the way to the hospital, so J had technical assistance on the outward route!  We worried about him.  Had a glass of wine.  Concerned he’s lost alone on the south bank.  Another glass of wine.  We tried ‘Find Friends’ on the phone to pin point his position … no good, so we just had another glass of wine!  He eventually turned up in time for the walk to the pub showing the rugby.

Irish bars get everywhere and have their uses.  Post early supper off we trotted.  “Fawlty Towers” – “don’t mention the war” quote. Well – “don’t mention the weekend rugby” is apt. OK, Ireland lost and England won by a record 40 points – is that enough said, my darling Katherine? No?  Bugger.  Pride swallowed with bromide – Ireland played as well as Wales allowed them and England played as World Champions could – there’s something stuck in my craw – a goalpost?  

We don’t often get out at night (sigh), so a treat to see Porto all lit up.  Shaky camera shot and on the way to the pub!  Glasses of wine?

654 – Saturday 11th March:  Afurada and Rugby

In the cold light of day, I (somewhat shamefacedly) admitted to getting a taxi for the last part of my gravigation back from the hospital. Nuff said. K here again:  Quite!  No Comment!!!  New nick name – Henry JAMES the Navigator!  We will do the D4 form at home in April – but lovely people at the hospital – refunded my money when they realised it was not possible to process my examination – even though I took up 45 minutes of their time!  How lovely are the Portuegese people?   

A sad adieu to Robyn and Kensey – they will travel along the Duoro east – we will certainly meet again….

A walk to Alfurada fishing village west of our parking – buzzing, public laundry, marina, market.  The local menfolk all dressed in their Saturday finery, in and out of the bars.  Women scrubbing in the public hand laundry.  Men mending nets.  Restaurants had large BBQ’s going outside on the street to grill the freshly caught fish.  A pukka fishing village with local traditions still in force, despite the close proximity to the second largest Portuguese city. Our coffee and cakes came with – cheese pieces – luncheon.

Another foray into Porto and the Irish pub.  Funny – the barmaid seems to consider us locals on a second visit!  K:  Did J mention the England Scotland score???  I made it till 8.30 and then collapsed into bed.  All this excitement!

Tomorrow – north – to the seaside – for chill down time – and sun? Maybe… 

Washing drying outside the public laundry … blankets, towels and rugs (as well as bigus knickers) all hand washed.

Oscar’s Diary

Oscar’ere again….Flushed with my recent success (but not with the ladies – more later), I have put paw to keyboard once more. Life is good and sunny – the billet is fine, food arrives pretty much when it should – and the owners are behaving – like good ‘uns.  Now then, we have hooked up with Robyn and her K9 Kensey. Kensey is a looker – and Robyn is also very good in the glampartment…   I haven’t had stirrings in the – ahem – manly department for a long time (of course I’ve some flings in my time) and Kensey is – how shall I say – a strickpease (or something like that) – I hope this is being read after the naughtyshed at 9:00 pm…  She puts her paw out to inveigle me in closer – and I respond by nosing the old whotsits – and knock me down with a feather boa – she barks at me and runs off!!!  Now, what’s a fellow to do?  I play the old aloof game and hard to get – but not a whisker from young K (Kensey that is).  I’m going to go on t’internet and look up those cycleogical wallahs for advice – it’s called ‘doggyline’, I think…   She did it a few times – I’m resorting to cold showers (or is it cold turkey?) – I do like being rubbed down by Katherine when I’m wet but, I’d much prefer a rubadubdub from Kensey – not to be.  

Now they’ve gone to other places – along the Duoro river – but I’m sure we’ll meet again (is that a Gracie Fields song? – showing James’ age again…) and I will have some new tictacs – go on the forward paw – the Sicilian Defence in chess – all out attack – like Ireland forgot to do at the weekend…  I’ll get her in a ruck, somehow – and make sure she won’t release the ball (oops, is that a bit rude?).  Maybe poetry?  James tries that on Katherine – and she goes all doe-eyed – then – K’noodles occur…  

There’s nowt so queer as folks – or K9s – back to the gnawingboard – head in paws…

I’ll get over it…

Ciao xxx