As the clocks do their thing in Europe this weekend and a Siberian chill sets in over the U.K., I felt a little smug this morning… waking up 1200 miles south of my hometown St. Helier to this…
Taking off from Jersey airport, a direct flight to Faro is a rare treat, as it only happens a couple of times a year. I don’t understand why these flights are such a rarity. A mere 3 hours after taking off from Jersey you could be on the beach soaking up the sun. As opposed to what we are used to… flying to Gatwick, hanging around for a connecting flight and flying back over Jersey several hours later and wasting a day of your holiday getting there.
I’m biased when it comes to The Algarve. It is my personal, European haven, the place I would like to spend more time. It’s not just a passing phase, I’ve been in love with the place for twenty-six years… and who can blame me? I have waxed lyrical about it since I was blown away on my first visit.
As with all breaks away, I’m encouraged NOT to do any editing… or blogging, but despite fierce resistance, my Mac just happened to fall into my suitcase.
‘Why is your suitcase so heavy?’
‘Um, I’ve bought pasta, tea, and coffee.
Day One and here I am. Will I be able to keep my hands off Mac’s keys for the next 8 days? 🤔 Probably not because I only just have to look out of the window and I am waxing lyrical again.