At Roundabout, Take Second Exit

 Bidding a fond farewell to our lovely Sagres hotel and its charming staff, we continued our journey along the southern coast. Our destination was the town of Tavira where I had spent a few hours with Ange, Kris and Nora in 2017.

If the western Algarve is wild, untamed and undeveloped, the  eastern side is its hyperactive, party-loving younger sibling. This is the area that attracts flocks of European sun-seekers and has grown up accordingly. While not as over-developed as  the south of Spain, here is where you will find tons of resorts, hotels and rental apartments clustered around the harbours and strung along the miles of white sandy beaches. 

Our first stop was the busy harbour town of Lagos, where we would be boarding a small boat to visit sea caves and grottoes off the rocky coast. Lagos has the dubious honour of having been a major slave-trading centre from the 15th century and was the capital of the Algarve until it was obliterated by the earthquake of 1755.

Having once again been misled by Kate, our GPS route finder, we ended up finding a parking lot a considerable distance from the harbour where we were due to board our cruise. Luckily the narrow streets were easy to negotiate and we had given ourselves lots of time to wander around before our 11:15 boat trip.

Lagos was busy with tourists meandering on the cobbled streets looking in gift shops, munching custard tarts in pastelerias and generally poking around. If it is this busy in May I hate to think what it must be like in peak summer holidays. The harbour was bustling with sailboats and tour boats, and waterside restaurants and coffee shops were doing a steady trade. 

Making our way to quayside we met our boat captain and fellow passengers, who, small world, were from Collingwood. Our tour vessel was a large open motor launch that seated about 8 passengers, so we had plenty of room with the driver and tour guide. Just as well, because the other woman passenger was all over the boat snapping multiple photos and exclaiming at every bit of scenery before we had even motored out of the harbour (eye roll).

The trip out to the grottoes was nothing short of incredible, with stunning rock formations rising like sandstone icebergs from the sparkling azure and turquoise water. Rock pillars, carved arches and mysterious sea caves amazed us at every turn.

As we cruised in and out of the small coves and around the huge rocks our tour guide pointed out some of the distinctive shapes that had been named by local fisherman over the years - the Elephant had a long curved "trunk"; the Camel head perched majestically on the end of a point; and two lovers "kissing" formed a small arch over the sea. 

Numerous tiny crescent beaches, accessible only by kayak, could be found tucked behind the rock formations. Indeed, there were numerous fleets of kayak trippers and tour boats of all shapes and sizes negotiating around the rocks. Our guide told us that in summer the area swarms with boats like a busy freeway and we were again pleased we had chosen to travel here ahead of European holiday time.

It was a stunning sidetrip.

On our return to the jetty the harbour and town were swarming with tourists and we decided to get the hell outta Dodge. After a brief stop for lunch in a busy small town we set the our GPS and let Kate guide us to our next overnight spot just outside Tavira in the eastern Algarve. 

It was a straight, smooth run by motorway and the now familiar roundabouts, bypassing Faro and the small town of Quarteira where the kids had stayed on sabbatical to our hotel.

We are pretty independent travellers, so placing our accomodation in the hands of a third-party was a little unsettling at first. We typically book ourselves at small hotels, guesthouses or Air BnB's. I have to say that on this trip we have had some unique stays in places we would not normally have  chosen but which have turned out to be surprisingly good. 

Our hotel outside Tavira was located in a beautifully renovated former tuna processing factory and workers' village a few kilometers outside of the main town and on the edge of a protected natural area. 

From March to September whole families would live on site in small attached bungalows during the tuna season to process the catch which was unloaded at the adjacent jetty. It was a model "factory town" conceived and developed under the Salazar dictatorship in 1942 and continued in operation until the tuna ran out in the 70s.

The facility included a school, a library and recreation facilities for the workers and their families. Today these house a museum on the tuna fishery and a kids' entertainment facility.

The main production area has been converted to a one story hotel with large dining and function rooms, a huge outdoor pool, kids' splash area, spa and recreation facilities, with the former chapel available for weddings. You can also stay in the former workers' cottages. Everything has been renovated to a first-class standard.

The weird thing, though, is that when we first arrived we seemed to be the only guests. Other than very pleasant front-desk staff it was a little eerie, as if there was no one else in residence. It felt a little bit like The Shining. Would I see a child on a tricycle pedalling alone through the hallways?

Our fears were soon assuaged by the very pleasant bartender who assured us that Sunday was check-out day for most guests but also that this resort is extremely busy and popular among Portuguese and Spanish families once school has broken up for the summer. Phew. I know longer had to worry about Jack Nicholson breaking through our door.

Dinner was buffet style with a grill station manned by a chef preparing fish and steak to order, and a very professional wait staff taking care of our beverages.

It reminded us a lot of an all-inclusive resort in Cuba, complete with an "animacion" team encouraging the few guests to play bingo and a lonely lounge singer playing to an empty room.

Neverthless it still felt a little strange and isolated, being a few kilometers out of town in the middle of salt marshes on the edge of an estuary. Maybe Jack was lurking out there somewhere?

A visit to Tavira tomorrow. How much of it would I remember?