If you want a couple of hours of silence from Rosco, it’s simple. Take him on a small boat in “strong” seas.  In nearly three hours, he only said 12 words, and six of them were “I’m not happy about this Kari”. 

When I say small boat, it had a rigid hull with inflatable side pontoons, a larger version of the Australian surf lifesaving rescue boat.  Passengers, a maximum of 12, straddle the seats in the same way one would sit on a horse, holding onto the back of the seat in front.  In Rosco’s case, it was more like a bucking bronco. He’s smiling in these photos below, mainly because we are still in the sheltered waters of Marina de Albufeira.

I knew Rosco was nervous about the boat trip. In the morning, getting ready in our AirBnB apartment, we discussed the need for jackets and shorts vs long pants.  The maximum temperature was to be 20 degrees, but it gets cool on the ocean, at speed, in a boat.  I told him to make sure he wore shoes that he could easily kick off  “just in case we capsize and we have to swim to shore”.  Hahaha, that was mean!!

The Algarve Coast is known for its limestone rock cliffs, and the cliffs around Albufeira are spectacular, full of colour, caves, arches and grottos. The coastline is wild, rugged and staggeringly beautiful.

On calm days, the boats go right inside some of the many caves and openings – but today was not what you would describe as calm.  The swell was heaving and the cold Atlantic waters swirled and pummelled the cliffs.  Our boat carefully negotiated the moving waters at the entrance to one cave, gently nosing about halfway into the cavern within. Once inside, it was eerie twilight, and we felt, rather than saw, the boat lift as a huge wave surged underneath us. The roof and walls of the cave closed in around us, and we watched as the wave went onwards to smash against the end of the cave, completely filling the space with a torrent of frothing water.  Ross looked down at his shoes, face ashen.  They were lace ups, certainly not the kind that could be quickly kicked off!   The driver quickly put the engines in reverse and we get out of there. 

Later that day, our English friends Irene and Bob, plus Rosco would discuss their thoughts of capsizing, being dashed against the rocks, the unlikely possibility of rescue, and certain death.  They’re a cheery mob! It turns out that my darling Rosco spent a fair bit of the afternoon thinking about how he would kick off his shoes. Sorry honey x.

I don’t have many pictures, as to take the phone out, meant letting go of the seat in front, and the very real possibility of losing said phone over the edge of the pontoon. Having already lost an iPhone on this trip, I had no desire to lose another one. Plus it was icy cold and our fingers were frozen.  Irene pulled some black and red socks out of her bag and wore them as gloves (sexy AND practical). Bob, with a body fat percentage that would make a marathon runner jealous, was muttering something about his nipples.  I was glad I wore my beanie!

We explored over 18 km of the Algarve Coast, and followed a pod of dolphins about 10 km offshore.  It was a spectacular adventure, and three of us absolutely loved it….the other one, not so much.

Once back to the Marina, we disembarked.  I’m not sure if you’ve ever spent nearly three hours sitting straddled across a seat, “getting air” as the boat flies over rollicking green swell, at speed, in a cold wind.  But to say we were a little stiff is an understatement. Watching Irene stagger up the gangway, legs akimbo, with a swagger like a cowboy, was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. If she had died at that point, she would have needed a Y-shaped coffin!

So after a fun couple of days together, two brilliant Portuguese restaurants, tremendous local wines, ports and sherry, and some hair-raising adventures, it’s time to say goodbye to Bob and Irene, AKA Short Stuff.  It’s also time for Rosco and I to say goodbye to Albufeira. We’re off on the next part of  our adventure…..which I can assure you, will not involve a boat. x