Tavira

The pub doesn't open till 10pm, so there is plenty of time to spend around Tavira, it's full of snack bar cafes & restaurant(e)s with nobody inside, but everyone eating and drinking under the constant sun in the sweltering temperatures (I'm not complaining). We have developed a routine of coffees, beers & snacks on the little white village square and I'm beginning to get a Patrick McGoohan in The Prisoner' syndrome, I even walked 3km down the road earlier on to see if there was anything outside the centre and there was a dead end; although a boat did come to ferry people to an island beach, Patrick (I am not a number) McGoohan was stuck. I'm acclimatizing but without a word of Portuguese; as it's Latin based the big words can be adapted but don't help much in conversation, Dale has lent me a phrasebook, it doesn't help when I go out without my glasses. Before I go on the street I habitually count four things: wallet; mobile phone; camera & diary/note book, to which must be added: glasses; keys; cap & phrasebook. As everywhere else in the world there is an Irish bar; the other day I walked in and they had a television screen showing the England World Cup Game, then on another screen was the Portugal game, at the far end of the bar was a third screen showing, lo and behold, the Cymru/Wales v Belgium game, I was pleasantly taken aback. Life can be strange, I had to come to Portugal to see the All Ireland hurling final, the Galway supporters were watching the game at one end of the bar, and the Kilkenny fans were watching a different television at the other end. I'll be going back for the World Cup qualifiers tonight but it's not certain whether Scotland or Wales will have the third screen, as the other day there were three matches for three screens with Scotland playing the following day, we shall see. Today I met a couple from Abertawe (Swansea) & Caerfyrddin (Carmarthen) who are here birdwatching, I told them about the bar but our opening time is after their bedtime.