Stories
JEAN’S BOOK
1970.
Trip to Portugal on the Eagle. French/German owned and built.
Start delayed for 24 hours, problems with the ship; we set off as
arrangements made with the staff, re running of our business.
Camped at Ringwood near Bournemouth, at a little site. Like a dell, lots
of trees and flowers; in fact overgrown, a bit creepy!
We had a wonderful cruise, the ship so smart, the decor superb. One bar
emerald green and midnight blue, the main lounge stunning in scarlet and
shocking pink.
The food wonderful, 10 course meals. Intended to save the menus, oh well
pick them up on the way back.
We saw Born Free in the cinema, that night there was dancing, the sea so
rough, hard to keep your feet on the deck. I won the draw, guessed the
distance we had sailed into the Bay of Biscay. Drinks all round, that
money didn't last long.
Sailed up the Tagus and arrived at Lisbon, it was so hot, like an oven.
We start off on our journey to the Algarve, of course we go the wrong
way. A friendly Policeman got into the car to put us on the correct road
over the Salazar Bridge (old name}, we offered him sweets, he filled his
pockets and the tin was almost empty. Never mind we were on the way to
our dream holiday.
On to the open road, had to park up, change into our shirts and shorts,
so very hot; then the flies descended. Oh how we got bitten all over.
Hardly any traffic on the roads just pony and trap horses with loads to
carry. If a car with Brits passed us lots of waving and the hooting of
horns.
My Sister looking at the crops as we passed by, what are those black
things in the fields? Of course they were the women working in their
black clothing. The roads were full of potholes and ruts all the way.
Arriving on the Algarve we found everything so quaint and unspoilt, in
fact shabby. There was a camp at LAGOS, got ourselves settled in, just
by the entrance where there was enough room for our larger outfit. First
stop the loos. What a surprise, showers and loos combined. No toilet
seat, soon latched onto the idea, needs must.
All changed and ready for a look around. Out through the gates into
pitch black, not a light anywhere. Slowly our eyes became used to the
light, we stumbled down a road with much laughing and swearing as our
toes came into contact with chunks of rock. We spied an archway and once
we got to the end, oh how lovely, a sort of promenade with some
floodlights. At last we felt that we had reached civilisation.
Walking along the prom found a restaurant, the owner spoke English,
which was lucky we had no Portuguese at that time.
Next morning back at camp we enquired about a beach we had seen on the
tourist pamphlets it looked so very beautiful. Five minutes round the
corner we are told, called DANA. Oh what can I say, just so wonderful,
golden sands, quite a rough sea, so unspoilt, the rocks worn by the
ocean creating such fabulous shapes. We had such a happy morning there,
finishing off with a coffee at the cliff top café. Yes, we will be back
again.
Next journey, Cape St Vincent, the very far end of the Algarve. The air
so fresh and clean. We spy a beach, small and inviting, clamber down the
cliff and lo and behold not a footprint to be seen - our very own beach!
We found a cave to shelter from the scorching sun, next a swim; run down
towards the sea, ouch – ow - the sand so hot it was burning our feet, a
quick dash back for our sandals, the water warm and rough - lovely.
We progressed towards the famous lighthouse, enjoyed the tour. The
brasswork shining bright, looking out over the ocean, next stop America.
Taken along the gallery to hear the thunderclap of the sea breaking into
tunnels in the rocks, fascinating.
We had a meal at the Pousada nearby. Yes, the food lived up to the
reputation these hotels have. Most enjoyable.
We wanted to visit Albufeira having heard so much about it. We were a
bit disappointed, too busy, not our kind of place. One thing we did
find, BASKETS, of every shape and size. Bought enough for every member
of staff and my sister also purchased some. When we returned to the
caravan every cupboard had one inside.
Back to the caravan ready for our next move to the other end of the
Algarve, quite a long drive. We camped at Praia da Quarteira [Faro] so
quiet, only one hotel [Cosmos], remember this was 1970. The camp had
tall houses shaped like wide cones, we looked inside one. Seats and beds
all around the outer walls, most strange. To buy fish we had to go onto
the beach, the catch just thrown onto the sand. We watched a woman
dragging an octopus along the sand. My sister says hope she has some
fresh water to wash it in. What fun and laughing trying to fillet the
large white fish we had bought. Blood everywhere. What a treat, straight
out of the sea, so fresh, it was lovely. So hot every day. To get cool
would get into the car and go for a drive, windows open just for a
breath of air. Usually to LOULE a smashing little town not on the coast.
FARO very nice with wonderful mosaic walkways, as we walked along kept
seeing little piles of cut rocks, found out to repair the roads and
pavements. We all had our black umbrellas to keep off the sun, also saw
the old slave market with the iron rings still on the walls.
The end of our stay, journey up to LISBON onto the municipal camp, next
morning down to the docks to check on our return cruise. What a shock -
NO SHIP. Broken down again and still in Portsmouth, offers to fly us all
back, leave the vans & contents to be shipped over in a day or two.
Caravanners don't have suitcases so money handed over to buy what we
needed. I was upset as I was recovering from a bad motor accident, still
in bandages. Bill, my husband, wanted to motor home - NO - we had no
green card and would not be allowed to cross borders or would face very
long delays.
We did fly to HERNE. I was sat next to a young woman who told me she
lived at the farm next to Stonehenge, Countess Farm. Even all those
years ago I think about her. The travel news mentions Countess
roundabout many times. We chatted all the way back, when we landed she
threw her arms around me saying Thank you Jean, I was so afraid. Little
did she know the state I was in - we just helped each other to be
cheerful.
A coach waiting to take us to the ship, the broken down 'EAGLE'. All the
staff on strike - had to lug our luggage ourselves to our original
cabins [which were filthy], just a few sandwiches and a drink provided.
Next day Floral Hall for lunch, then by coach to the PORTSMOUTH CENTRE
HOTEL at Southsea, lovely rooms, so very smart, BUT the food just so
bad. Fish fingers etc. Company must have done a deal to keep costs down.
They did try to entertain us, took us to Arundel, his Lordship away, the
gates closed. - New Forest – FISHBOURNE - this really was worth a visit,
the Mosaics just so colourful. Wonderful!
Had to wait three days for our Caravans to arrive, they were shipped
over by freighter. Walking along the Prom at Southsea, it was hotter
than it had been in Lisbon.
Time to collect the van; we waited ages, last three outfits to come off
all from the North. What a let down! No cruise back, never got the Menu.
We had enjoyed the holiday - but what an Anticlimax!
We had had a lot of problems with the Eagle, no mention in the press -
they were too busy running down the QE2, with her troubles.
One thing we remember with amusement, the look on the Customs Officers
face looking around the van. Every time he opened a door out fell a
basket, he must have thought we were crazy.
By Jean Whitehead Wilde