When you’ve lived in the same location for several years, it’s easy to get stuck in a rut and continue to visit the same places.
Often this is because you’ve found places you love, such as bars, restaurants and beaches, and see no real point in branching out. However, from time to time it’s refreshing to try to view your area with fresh eyes, and attack exploring it with the same zeal as when you first moved there.
With this in mind, when I decided to go for a quick Sunday moped ride, I opted against my usual cruise across the saltpans and around Tavira, and instead headed East along the Algarve Ecovia route, in the direction of the tiny coastal hamlet of Fábrica.
I’d been to Fábrica plenty of times before. In fact, the picture below was once a contender as the cover for our book.
However, this time around the tide was lower than I had ever seen it, and as I sat and had a drink, I noticed that people were able to make it on foot all the way out to the main beach and ocean, across the Ria Formosa.
It was clear that there would be some wading involved but I couldn’t resist. I hitched up my shorts and set off.
Within a short ten minutes I had found a route through the low water and arrived at the rear of the beach, which is technically the far eastern end of Cabanas Island. At high tide, this is a mere strip of sand (accessible by boat only), but I arrived at a vast paradise, populated by just a few people and some kite-surfers.
With the best will in the world, you do start to take for granted the beauty of where you live, but this was a real “wow” moment. I lingered and took a quick video clip that you’ll find on the Moving to Portugal Facebook page.
As I headed back, the previously warm shallow pools seemed considerably deeper than before, making a trip across this seascape perhaps a little foolhardy without watching the tides carefully to avoid becoming stranded. But that’s exactly what I intend to do over the coming years, as I can think of no better seaside paradise for my new son to play in once he begins to run around.
As I neared the shore once more, I noticed a couple staring intently at the sand before them. Unsure of what they were looking at, I paused a moment, and in all directions noticed an array of tiny scuttling crabs in all kinds of outlandish colours. Any human approach resulted in them disappearing down the hundreds of small holes in the sand, which I’d also failed to notice.
And that seems a fitting way to end this post. Just as familiarity with an area can stop you noticing its charms, failing to slow down, look and think can stop you noticing what is (and was in this case) right before your eyes. It’s time to redouble my efforts to explore this extraordinarily beautiful part of the world.