Tavira

Ola, mi amigos! If you can notice a change in my accent it's because we are now in Portugal, home of nandos chicken and piri piri sauce. The experts say that while the Spanish are proud and passionate (like Hawthorn supporters), the Portuguese are melancholy and morose (like Bulldogs supporters). They once ruled the seas, they discovered much of the new world- then they lost it all. The massive Lisbon Earthquake of 1755 was the sealer. Still it's a very interesting country, not unlike the Australian bush in some parts, especially where the roads are lined with gum trees as far as the eye can see. One photo from today has a stand of eucalypts next to an old windmill! Don Quixote meets Ned Kelly.
The south, the Algarve, is a collection of beach towns of varying types. The one we went to today was a cross between Torquay and Philip Island. Things are very quiet now, but in July and August the place is crazy, apparently.

We travel to Evora next - a university town with some historical buildings, including the obligatory Roman temple (which until recently was the town slaughterhouse!) It's come up alright for the tourists, though. It's also the town of bare midriffs, which makes for a refreshing change. I may bare mine tomorrow!
Obrigado, hombres.