Filed under: travel
We were destined to go to Portugal, living so close for months. One weekend 3 Aussies and one reluctant Spaniard crossed the border, destination Lagos, via Tavira.
Tavira is a pretty, tumble-down town, with crumbling corners and fading facades, like a gingerbread house sat in a sunny bakery window for too long. We wandered around on Saturday afternoon, along the riverbanks then up the old castle walls. Portugal is cheap, the castle was free.
Towns in the Argave are small and elegant like wealthy old Frenchwomen. I liked the intricate chimneys and awnings, which I soon learned were stereotypically Portuguese.
My mind settled into Portugal, then we parted for Lagos.
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