Travel Diary. Day 5. To Southern Portugal. Carvoeiro.

Having checked out of the hostel in Lisbon and eaten at A Padaria Portuguesa, we headed to the airport where we had arranged a car with Guerin Rent a Car. Why this particular rental company? Convenient location, a clearly understandable and user-friendly website, low security deposit (one didn't want to freeze large sums), competitive price (9 days for 233.99 EUR). Moreover, we got a new Peugeot 208. The consultant clearly explained the rules on toll roads and the possibilities of travelling across borders. He was slightly surprised that we declined the GPS device as a paid service. We in turn were surprised that in our day such a service is still sold, as there are now so many and various navigation apps on mobile devices. Unless one were to drive into some really remote corner with no internet coverage (that never happened for a single moment).

The road south began by crossing the Tagus River over Europe's longest bridge (length more than 12 km), named after the Portuguese navigator Vasco da Gama. What a fascinating expanse! Later, travelling on the main roads A2 and A22, we were greeted by cameras registering the road toll (charges here 0.60, there 0.80, there 1.20 euros). A beeping signal in the car warned us that cents were gradually rolling from the virtual - later real - wallet. But we were in too carefree a mood to start worrying about it.

The scenery of wide fields with electricity pylons where hundreds of stork families had nested (I had never seen so many storks together before) gave way to highlands with reddish-soil outcrops. The greenery diminished (broccoli-like forests disappeared from view), indicating we were getting closer and closer to the south. The roads in Portugal are truly good - even the smallest, narrowest ones winding between hills, going up and down.

Following a recommendation, we stopped in Vila Nova de Milfontes (part of the natural park Parque Natural do Sudoeste Alentejano e Costa Vicentina) - a very beautiful coastal village where we had intended to sample local seafood, but awkwardly arrived during siesta time, when all the small restaurants there are closed until seven in the evening. The locals earnestly explained in clear Portuguese - of which we understand not a word - that we should come back a little later and all would be fine. Another older man again waved and sent us to the "praia," "praia" (which Google Translate later translated as "beach") - saying there's nothing to do here in the middle of the day, go swimming.

Well, nothing for it - we went to the nearest beach marked on the map, where we were greeted by a fantastic sun-drenched sky-blue ocean bay, and on the shore an artistic Estátua Arcanjo - a metal archangel who had climbed atop a pile of stones and was holding the globe aloft above his head. Magnificent, with a sense of security that you and your country's shores are guarded by a force more powerful than the enormous ocean. Here, descending wooden steps to the bottom, I waded into the ocean for the first time. The water was quite cool compared to the air temperature, which was already heading toward +30°C. We happily returned to the Peugeot, where the air conditioning in a couple of minutes normalised the interior temperature again to a pleasantly cool state.

Toward evening we arrived in the Carvoeiro area in the south, where studio apartments had been booked at a very lovely hotel - Pestana Palm Gardens (I recommend it to everyone - although we only stayed two nights, it was definitely paradise on earth). A quiet hotel complex with blue-and-white-painted little houses, floral garlands, a small inner pool, Western European tourists (which is not unimportant for ensuring tranquillity), and very responsive, courteous, fluent-English-speaking staff. Studio-type apartments with a large room: one half has a wide bed, the other a sofa, a relaxation corner, a kitchen with everything needed for cooking, and an outdoor terrace with a table and sunloungers. Everything surrounded by flowering shrubs and conifers. The hotel itself sits almost at the very edge of the steep cliff coast, with a view of the ocean (via quite long and steep steps one could descend right to the ocean).

The feeling of paradise was enhanced by an accidental event - a discovery right there in the coastal village. When the hot and bright solar orb had almost fallen into the ocean waters, we went on a reconnaissance walk around the area, which consisted mainly of various hotel complexes. We were privately pleased that ours was visually the most beautiful. Then, following Google Places reviews, we found a highly rated restaurant - Martins Kulinarium. First impression - oh dear, doors seemingly open, but only a small light inside and no one there. We thought we had come too late again; somehow that day we couldn't get things right - first a siesta, then everyone's already asleep.

Then from inside there literally burst forth (you can immediately sense people who come with strong positive energy - his presence seems to fill the room with waves of light) a cheerful, fairly large-built man in a white chef's outfit. He greeted us in English with a small accent, gave his name, warmly shook hands, and asked whether we had planned to have dinner. Clearly yes - though there is not a single other visitor here this evening (we begin to worry, because in such situations, at least from experience in Latvia, no one will fire up the stove for you - the kitchen is closed, full stop; at best you'll get a drink). No problem, the smiling man replied: where would you like to sit - inside or on the terrace? We want to enjoy the southern air, we voted for outside, even though after sunset the air was already growing cool and we had no jackets.

The place transformed as if by magic. Lights came on, candles were placed on the table, gentle music began playing, and it all started with our again tentative request for a carafe of white wine and some snacks - the usual olives, bread, etc. Visually assessing the diners' stomach capacity, the chef, whose name was Martins (originally from Germany), offered the following option: I have here a selection of different fish that I bought at the local fish market this morning - would we agree if he conjured up a dish from these fish and seafood, and we shouldn't worry because we would only be charged as for a standard main course, and the rest he would add on the house? Well, if one is to let go, then let go completely - let's do it!

Talking (it turns out a spouse/partner is a very interesting and attractive person when you put down the phone and have a conversation - after now sixteen years of living together) and enjoying the wine, time passes unnoticed. The snacks have been finished, a pleasant warmth and the warm southern night envelop the shoulders. At the table every now and then comes Martins himself and, possibly, his wife - a German woman - to make sure everything is all right and to apologise that the preparation takes time. We, for our part, have no time constraints this time - we are ready to sit here until the sun completes its orbit around the globe. Well, time for the second carafe - red wine and a deeper conversation.

We begin to plan and imagine how colossal tomorrow will also be in this corner of paradise, where everything is in abundance (fresh air, flowers, juice-laden oranges and other fruits, fresh seafood) and again only joyful, beautiful, and kind people. When the second carafe is almost empty, through the door with a wide grin from ear to ear and (I'm not exaggerating) carrying a large serving dish emerges Martins. Oh, we decide, the snacks earlier were quite unnecessary. Pride radiates from Martins' face as with genuine joy we admire the prepared dish. He tells us the types of fish - which means little to us - but the food's aroma pleasantly tickles the nostrils. Then suddenly Martins starts, having forgotten two more pieces of fish, turns on his heel and is gone, only to return with two more skillfully prepared sea creatures.

We enjoy the food and delight in life. We order rosé wine now. Nobody drinks water with a meal in the south. We also strike up a longer conversation with Martins, who has moved from Germany to open his restaurant in this corner of paradise, to buy local products himself, to invite guests to cooking masterclasses, and to create in the kitchen himself. He is acquainted with travellers from several countries, including entrepreneur Ieva Plaude-Roehlinger from Latvia. Well, time for a selfie of three and permission to write about him and this lovely meeting in our blog (we exchanged web addresses).

The long road south and the fantastic evening were almost over and we were wondering how without Taxify (Bolt) or Uber to get back to the hotel, and whether we had not overestimated our capacity. We asked for the bill, but next to it on the table arrived two elegant little glasses of sweet port wine as a compliment from the chef. A beautiful and delicious finishing touch. The walk back no longer seemed so long, and in the morning we were up quite early to set off on new adventures - this time on the ocean - but that is a different story.