Portugal First Timers

Day One - 17 April

On my 50x50 (50 things to by the age of 50) list I had put 'a trip to Lisbon'. In reality it turned out to be too complicated to manage in the time available, mainly because Exeter airport only flies to Faro, so Faro it was. I was accompanied by my two favourite partners in crime, Caitlin and Riona.  The scene was set.

We flew stupidly early on the Wednesday landing at Faro before what seemed like breakfast.  It took us a while to sort the hire car mainly because we'd booked an 'economy' hire company which involved standing in the car park and bundling onto one of their minibuses when it arrived.  As the hirer/driver I squeezed myself onto the first one leaving the girls behind as the heavens opened (sorry about that).  They eventually caught up with me just as we were given our slightly too-big left hand drive car with a dodgy parcel shelf.  Ah well...

Pretty much before we'd left the airport the girls were requesting food so we stopped at the first Aldi we found.  We stocked up on cheese, bread, fruit and some gluten free bread stuff (yay) and headed west.  Caitlin was surprisingly knowledgeable on Aldi and its organisation/ownership etc.  

Not before long we saw evidence that Portugal was running out of fuel.  The tanker drivers were striking and not only petrol stations, but airports and public transport were running low.  The queues at stations were crazy and I was already contemplating a large bill for returning the hire car without refilling.  Ah well, what could I do?

We stopped at a random beach/cliff thing for lunch then drove to our accommodation in Lagos.  Our AirBnB was as expected and we unpacked and headed out to explore Lagos - in the rain.  

At least I had a map to shelter under.

We stopped for a drink and Riona and I caught up with an outstanding cocktail, a pornstar martini.  It was on my 50x50 list but I'd ticked it off having drunk one with Caitlin.   Major objections from Riona as it was her idea so, pornstar martini number II it was!

I do not like cows.  And especially not wet ones.

We dried out at home and enjoyed our first supper.

Day Two - 18 April

It was dry today so we headed for the beach, Praia do Camilo.  It was a bit of a walk but we passed plenty of shrines en route.  

Lots of steps down to the beach.  A geologist's dream.  

The three Muskateers.

We then continued south to the Ponta da Piedade.

There were boat trips to the offshore caves running from the beach, but there was no way I was enticed considering there were few life jackets in the boats and the currents looked super unpredictable.

Riona headed for the photo opportunity.

There she is!

A lighthouse Ruthy thing.

Amazing flora.

And views.  What a blue sea!

The little people (little as in age, not height).

Jungle walking.

Such beautiful fields.

We headed back into Lagos for lunch.

It turned quite hot and I didn't have a hat so Caitlin obliged with her mappy top.  I'm never one to say no to a map on my head.

We enjoyed wandering around Lagos in the sun.  This chap was just parked at the end of the harbour breakwater with his bike.

Oooh anchor.

Anchor and child.

Child things x 2.

Lovely mosaics.

The clouds had lifted and the temperature risen so the girls wanted to revisit Praia do Camilo for some 'proper' beach time. 

Gorgeous.

And this one!

Sandy toes.

This is the life.

Once home we cooked supper and drank wine.  This latter event was a lot more effort than expected.  Our corkscrew broke on first twist so we spent a considerable amount of time hacking into the wine!

Caitlin kept up a running commentary and, at last, we had success!

Day Three - 19 April

We headed back eastwards today and our first immense excitement (for a Ruth) was a fuel station with fuel!  So we stuffed the car with petrol and drove towards Silves which I had decided would be an interesting interlude.  And indeed it was.  Silves is centred around its ancient castle, river and roman bridge.  

Trying out my super zoom...

on a local heron across the river.

Such pretty streets and moody, rain-threatening skies.

We visited the Castle of Silves.  

And enjoyed the view.

Catching up with each other.

This pond had incredibly green waters surrounding the statues.

After Silves we continued east and, after dropping the hire car, ended up in Faro.  

What a lovely place.  We could easily have have spent more time here.  The harbour is lovely.  It is bordered by a huge lagoon which looked to be a bird and other wildlife haven.

We wandered past the harbour into the walled city.

It was sadly a quick whizz around,

in and out of the historical gates.

Back down to the lagoon to watch the sun start to set.

The people I love x

Time for sundowners.

We ate out in a vegan restaurant - a little weird for the sheer lack of choices on the menu (disappointing, I usually find vegan restaurants a lot more interesting).  On our way back to the hostel we came across the Good Friday night procession.

This was a very sombre affair with candle-holding people weaving slowly along the streets and many statues of Mary were held aloft.  My patience for watching this long ceremony trail past drained after a couple of minutes and, although it was only probably 10 mins we were held up awaiting permission to cross the road, it felt a lot more.  Oh me of little patience.

Back to the hostel.  Bed and alarm at silly o'clock for an early flight out of Faro.  Farewell Portugal.  You were damper and colder than expected for April but worth a revisit.

Exeter's Green Circle

Last Saturday I walked Exeter's Green Circle.

It was a glorious day and it seemed a waste to spend it inside.  So I set off with a friend to stroll the ~13 miles circumnavigation of Exeter.  It's a very random circle shape following as much of Exeter green space as it can.  As I live on the canal it was only a mere stroll before I picked up my start at the bridge.

We pretty soon lost the path as the signage is a little hit and miss and I hadn't discovered a large scale route to download.  I was working off a small scale map-like-object and instinct, which meant we ended up in the wrong bit of Marsh Barton.  But it didn't take long to sort ourselves in Alphington and we were off towards the A30, heading northwest across fields just before reaching it.

We passed the Twisted Oak Pub.  Am I right to think this is the tree after which the pub is named?

Then we were up into the hills with views across to Ide.

We got lost again, but not for long, and headed along the back of Exwick, across the river and up into St Davids.  The views across into the university were lovely.

Except I was distracted by a War Department boundary stone.  There must have been a MOD depot or barracks around here once.

The route then takes you up into the university where we totally lost the signs - I'm missing the ease of the SW Coast Path, large scale routes and the acorn signs! - so we jumped a hedge and sort of made it up as we went along for a bit.

The route meanders through Mincinglake Valley Park, down through Polsloe Bridge (full of memories!), and eventually Ludwell Valley Park.  We couldn't cross the river at the Crematorium due to flood defence works but I followed my nose and we made it back to our starting point as the sun was starting to dip.

What a lovely stroll.

Sight Seeing in London - Courtesy of the Renault Scenic and an Eldery Sat Nav

Movious: a word discovered in Zambia to describe something (or someone) that moves around a lot. I'm a movious Ruth. In the last 3 weeks I've been away 12 nights in all sorts of places. My most interesting journey was yesterday when I drove to London to drop my daughter's stuff off at her new pad in Bethnal Green.  Being a Sunday I had a bit of freedom for my route as I knew traffic wouldn't be too heavy, however I wasn't keen to drive straight through the middle of London.

So I drove up the M5 and M4 then took the Western Way across the top of central London.  I've never driven in London (well, only to Ealing) so this was a lot of fun seeing all the places I've explored by tube, taxi and, mainly, on foot.  I drove past Edgware Road, Baker Street, Regents Park, Kings Cross and then down near Shoreditch into Bethnal Green.

After unloading the bike and contents of the car safely (one daughter collects a lot of stuff!), quaffing tea and starting the unpacking adventure, I left at 1700 to amble down to Basingstoke.  This time I let the sat nav take me on the most direct route.  Wow - what fun!  I drove down through the City of London, past the Bank of England and Mansion House.  My sat nav isn't terribly new and not linked into traffic reports so every so often it would try and send me somewhere I couldn't drive.  So my first happy detour was across Blackfriars Bridge.  I've never driven over the Thames in London - I was grinning like a kid.  I then drove along the South Bank and back across Waterloo Bridge onto the Strand.  And then, lo and behold, I'm driving around Trafalgar Square. It was chocka so, thankfully, I only attempted this madness on a Sunday at 1730 rather than a more popular time of the day.  I then ended up in Piccadilly and got lost a few times as my sat nav takes a long time to recalculate when I detour off its prescribed route.  My route is certainly not optimal!

I drove past Wellington Arch, waved at Buck Palace, then headed north up the east and north sides of Hyde Park.  My sat nav was determined to send me through it but I ignored it (sending it into a spin of "recalculating.... 1%..... 5%....8%...").  The fun of getting lost in central London was starting to wear thin but fortunately I bumped into the A4 pretty soon then headed down to the M3 and down to Basingstoke.

I won't make a habit of driving in London but for a one-off laugh - do it!

One Armed Bandit

Slingity sling.  Oh what soulmates we have become...

As I enter my sixth, and hopefully final, week in a sling I reflect on how useful having two arms is.  There are many things that being one arm down makes hard or nigh on impossible.  Fortunately I can use the fingers on my left hand although must not carry any weight.

Things I simply cannot do (in random order)...

• Drive
• Use a tin opener
• Touch type
• Kayak
• Vacu-pump wine
• Open jars (although knees help)
• Change a duvet cover
• 'Control-alt-delete'
• Use a knife and fork
• Put a shower hat on
• Sew
• Cycle
• Use scissors
• Put a tshirt/jumper on: I have worn the same 3 blouses for 6 weeks. (I have washed them)
• Open champagne (!)

Things which are very hard to do but with left hand fingers, patience and perseverance I manage.

• Wash-up
• Strike a match
• Chop things (visitors have often left me a pile of sliced cheese, tomato, cucumber...)
• Do up zips
• Use chopsticks (for some reason this was important to achieve)
• Open envelopes
• Write
• Wash/brush hair
• Wrap presents
• Shuffle and deal cards
• Apply makeup
• Fold up towels/duvet cover
• Tie laces
• Plug a charger into phone (you have to back the phone into a corner)
• Spread things on bread
• Tuck shirt into jeans
• Put socks on
• Turn a page on a book without it closing on me
• Iron (not that I've bothered)
• Pack shopping into bags
• Peel fruit (banana, satsuma...)

So this last 6 weeks has been a journey.  Of discovering the art of the possible, of creatively looking after myself and of allowing others to help.  I've had to lean on friends and family more than usual which ruffles my independent streak but it's no bad thing.

And I got my sling wet a few times.  Worse crimes have been committed.

Operation Mend Ruth

I had a shoulder operation on Tuesday to repair the damage caused by my bike accident last December.  I had a grade IV acromioclavicular joint separation which would only properly heal with surgery.  My clavicle and scapula had fallen out with each other: indeed my clavicle was pushed up and back out of position.  You can see the protrusion of my clavicle to my left shoulder below.

Or internally...

I was in hospital by 0730 and second on the list, marked up ready to go.

I didn't move into theatre prep until after 1030.  The anaesthetist's first attempt to put a cannula into my hand failed after prodding and poking "you have very narrow veins," he commented.  His second attempt, into my arm, worked and then they (4 of them) started on my left arm/nerve block.  This involved a local anaesthetic into my neck and then, guided by ultrasound, injection of the nerve block into the top of my shoulder.  I'd been given some gas to calm me by this stage and it was actually quite interesting to watch the screen as the needle entered my shoulder and they guided it to my major veins.  As the block went in the muscles in my arm cramped in phases - very painful.

And then I woke up in recovery.

The operation went very well apparently.  I think I was under for ~90 minutes. Recovery wasn't much fun as I was very nauseous and shaking.  They kept giving me oxygen and by the time I was wheeled back into the ward I had 5 blankets on me (!).

I had a surprise when the physio came round.  I was lead to believe that I'd need to wear a sling for a couple of weeks. Ah, not quite.  I have to wear it for 6 including for 4 weeks at night.  No shower for at least 2 weeks (when the stitches come out) and no driving for 8.

I am currently staying with Roger who kindly offered to look after me until I'm able to fend for myself.  This was my thoughtful breakfast in bed Wednesday morn.

An hour or so later I was up and sort of clean.  I'm wearing Rog's tops for now as I need clothes I can pop on over my sling to avoid trying to feed my arm in and out of sleeves.

Being one arm down - particularly my 'good' arm - is a challenge.  There are obvious issues such as brushing teeth and hair but one doesn't realise how much you use both hands for: tying shoe laces, peeling a banana, doing up a zip, spreading butter, undoing jars, putting toothpaste on toothbrush, touch typing etc.  Nothing is insurmountable but it all takes extra time and patience, not something I am renowned for having excess of.

In order to occupy myself I tackled Riona's jigsaw.

And today I picked up studying again.  Golly - what an effort!  Typing is slow, organising paperwork awkward and writing a challenge.  I believe it's good for the brain to learn new skills but come 6 weeks I'll certainly revert to my left hand for most things.

Anyway, very grateful to be warm and cosy whilst Storm Emma does her stuff.

What goes up must come down

Once back in South Africa I spent my last couple of days in a Johannesburg hotel.  It was very near the airport and full of quirky aviation features.

The bar stools were aircraft tyres although, funnily enough, no-one deemed them comfortable enough to sit on.

Working hard honest.

My flight home turned out to be a classic Ruth adventure.  We were flying from Johannesburg to Schipol.  As we neared our destination the pilot announced that, due to weather (it turned out to be a major storm across NW mainland Europe), we were in a holding pattern for 45 mins.  So we dose-doed around Amsterdam as elegantly as you can in a 777 for 3/4 of an hour and then came into land.  Or tried to.  Being the geo spotter I am, and particularly because I was bored by this time, I was watching the flights stats screen as we came into land.  2000' feet, 1500' feet, wheels down...  It was the rockiest landing I've ever experienced and people around me were deploying their sick bags.  1000' to go ("thank goodness") and suddenly the pilot nosed up and accelerated.  And then the flight stats screen displayed JNB-BRU. I looked around me and exclaimed "we're going to Brussels!".  The flight attendants told me to shush awaiting the Captain's input (pardon me) and then the Captain tannoyed to say that we couldn't land in Schipol (it was gusting 60 knots) and we were going to Brussels.  So off we went to Belgium.

We landed, taxied and were told that we had to refuel (good point - there is only so long a 777 can be airborne) and would wait until the weather cleared in the Netherlands and then we'd pop back.  However by then, obviously, 100s of flights over Europe were out of place.  Schipol had closed that morning and air traffic control were naturally focussed on landing the long haul flights and just not letting the short haul take off.  At the end of the day, if you have an aircraft coming into land from across the equator, which has been flying for 11 hours and probably only has a couple of hours' fuel left, you're going to make it a priority over a local European flight.  Wow I really do so love how air traffic control works.  It was absolutely seamless.  We tried to land, failed and within a minute air traffic control re-routed us to Brussels, which obviously delayed other flights into Belgium etc etc.

Anyway, after 3 hours on the tarmac we took off for what I think will be my weirdest ever city hop: Brussels to Amsterdam in 25 minutes. In a Boeing 777.

Anyway Schipol was OK except that due to its earlier closure the re-booking facilities were max'ed out and I went all African and simply pretended I didn't understand the queueing system and re-booked my tickets on an available machine (no-one was using it honest) and caught the last flight out of Schipol to London.  Meanwhile I had time to amble amongst the tulips and other non-seasonal events.  I was a little confused by this scene.  There was a guy behind the clock face sort of repainting the clock handles. Very strange.

Aaah, this is better.

Anyway, I landed at Heathrow late Thursday evening and rocked up to my aunt's at 2200 (I had warned her: she'd had time to hide) and stayed with her overnight.  What a relief.  And then the next morning I ambled home.  I've had shorter journeys back from Africa.

As I rebounded over the next few days - washing, post etc - I emptied my wallet and was amused to see its collection.  This is why I adore travel.