October
Sizewell weekend, I get sent to Schweizer in upstate New York
It turned out that this was a great opportunity for us to see what we had let ourselves in for, having to live together for a week in close proximity. By the time we came home we knew that our love for each other, food, and wine had all grown, and that we needed to learn Portuguese fairly quickly if we were going to fully enjoy the Algarve experience. "Obrigado", "dois Super Bock por favor", and "vino tinto por favor" only go so far! (But usually give the required response!!!)
One of the bits we loved about our trip was the hire car. The nice chap on the desk in Lisbon airport obviously thought we looked like a careful young couple as he handed over the keys to a brand new black Peugeot 1007 diesel with the snazzy automatic sliding doors. These doors proved to be a source of much amusement throughout the trip, most notably when sitting at a cafe on the street with the car parked opposite, opening and closing the doors using the key fob whenever a passer-by decided to take a closer look! This caused loads of people to back away hastily with a guilty look on their faces in a very 'Beadles About' kind of way. Fortunately nobody took the opportunity to steal our stuff while the doors were open and we were too far away to catch them!
One particular incident stood out with the 1007, and it happened upon our arrival at the apartment. As anyone who has ever ventured from the beaten track abroad will tell you, it doesn't take long to find your way into areas which look like they are populated with extras from 'Deliverance', and three legged, one eyed dogs lolloping along the road. Needless to say, once we arrived at the apartment we couldn't find a parking space anywhere nearby, so with me driving we set off down a side road. Those of you who are way ahead of me will already be saying " that was your first mistake" as it seems that side roads in small towns abroad are cunningly set up as traps for tourists, with locals being employed in specific roles - see if you can spot them here. Firstly, the instant I poked the nose of the 1007 down the side road a local appeared being me, coming from no-where and putting lots of pressure on me to keep going. Then, as I came to a fork in the road and decided to keep going straight down what was now a narrow track, a van appeared in front of me coming up the other way! You will have seen these kind of vans before in comedy sketches. You know the type; they're usually old beaten up things driven by two unshaven cigarette smoking locals, and stuffed to the rafters in the back with lawnmowers, dogs, scruffy chickens falling out of the sides, hay, and possibly grandma too. This van cut off my only forward exit point, and the other guy was blocking me back at the entrance, so I decided that a reversing maneuver back down the other fork in the road was the best solution. Everything seemed to be going fine even though I was flustered big-time, right up until the point where the car seemed to drop about three feet, there was a horrible crunch, the car started rocking and Sarah and I turned white. Selecting 1st or reverse and giving it loads of throttle had no effect except making us rock forwards and backwards, and just then the old guy who had been watching proceedings from his balcony (and probably co-ordinating the assault), came rushing down and over to the car. Sarah jumped out and met the old guy (who I shall now call the Ring Leader), causing much shouting, arm waving and general fuss, all in Portuguese and English with neither party understanding each other. It seemed that the Ring Leader was actually genuinely concerned, this having turned from the usual tourist trap scenario into something altogether more serious!
Upon closer inspection it was found that I had managed to reverse half the car down the road and half straight off the edge of the road, me not realising that my escape route dropped very quickly into someone else's driveway. Fortunately the trusty Pug had won through and was resting on the remaining two tyres and the left floor beam - a very strong part of the car and only structural, not cosmetic! I couldn't really have been more spawny, the drop causing no damage whatsoever to the car (what with me having a heart attack only moments before thinking I had crumpled one side of the car, and having seen thousands of Euros flash before my eyes!), and with a push form the Ring Leader (whom I shall now call That-Really-Nice-helpful-Old-Gentleman-Sitting-On-His-Balcony-Watching-The-World-Go-By), and lots of wheelspin from me we managed to get the car back onto the road and in the correct direction to go back to the apartment! When we got there we found a tiny space outside on the other side of the street; probably illegal but space for the 1007 nevertheless. The car remained safe for the remainder of the holiday, we drove lots of miles in it, and there was not a scratch to be seen!
With that little episode over it was time to sit back, eat the food, drink the wine, enjoy the beaches, and catch up on some sleep. At least that's what I expected to happen! Instead we spent the week touring here, there and everywhere seeing the sights and enjoying the best of the Algarve. This was a great time but I think I ended up going home more knackered than I was when I left!!!
And so it was that our time in Portugal ended. We legged it back to Lisbon in the wee small hours to drop off our car and catch the Monarch flight back to Gatwick. Fueled by numerous roadside espresso's along the way and not a lot else we got through the airport just in time to catch the plane. Feeling rough all the way back on the plane - mainly due to a cocktail of way too much coffee and way too little sleep - we eventually arrived in the UK, having only that day to go shopping in Bromley, get back to Norwich to drop me off, then for Sarah to drive to start her course the next day! This is the true West End Crackers holiday ending style, as you will see that a mad dash home to start something important usually follows any trip!
I soon realised I had nothing to worry about when I met Sarah. After our first meeting in Greenwich Park I knew I would never be lonely again and my house would hopefully one day be our home. 
