Fai Tira Blog Saturday 19/09 

Fai Tira in Viana do Castelo 41:41.60N 8:49.34W

Well, this was to be the day that we left Spain. I’d got kinda mixed feelings about it. Fairly excited at the prospect of moving on, particularly as the destination was in Portugal, a country that I’d never even visited.

However there was a bit of a sense of loss about leaving Spain behind. This is the third time that I’ve visited, but by far the longest stay. And on each of the other occasions the Atlantic coast was the area we’d made for.

I had a sort of soft spot, for the region even before we set off, and this recent period has only served to reinforce that feeling.

So it was with some reluctance that I dragged, my still somewhat wobbly and bleary eyed body out, Mine are what used to be the prime sleeping quarters on the boat. That is before all the spare sails moved in and elbowed me on to this perch, on the edge of the bed, where I hang, sometimes precariously, and hope that the weather is kind and the movement gentle.

Shame, I really liked this place, and the last day was affected by, what appears to be, a stomach bug that quite dragged me down.

Anyhow it was still up early. There was a fair bit of preparation to do, dragging in and deflating the dinghy, being just one. We weren’t the first to leave though. One of our British neighbours was already up and away, I could see that he was all kitted out in full wet weather gear, he’d obviously heard the forecast.

There was also an impressive and beautiful new visitor, an aluminium hulled French schooner, in the process of anchoring close by. It was massive. As we passed I think I spotted that they also had bikes on board, great minds and all that, except that I imagine the only reason for theirs, is to ride from one end of the boat to the other.

As we left the weather closed in. Although the seas remained relatively calm, the winds light (mainly from the wrong direction), it rained. The sort of fine rain that doesn’t look much, but has the effect of soaking you before you know it

Pete decided we’d get protection with the erection of the bimini. Good idea as far as keeping off the rain, but for me, it also had the effect of providing shockingly poor for visibility.

Any one six foot tall or over. On our boat, looks over the spray hood when at the wheel. Suddenly  that line of sight was full of blue canvas. It’s only on this sort of occasion, when restricted vision is imposed, that you realise just how much reliance you have on peripheral vision. For me it was worse than sailing in fog!!.

Anyhow I was feeling rubbish at the time, so it gave me the chance to get my, less than six foot tall, captain to take the wheel. While I tried to make myself feel comfortable down below. (Yep I know, unfortunate choice of words that, but hope you know what I mean)

Although I hate to admit it, I think that I might have also been suffering from an element of seasickness as well. Anyhow, I wasn’t that bad, but the journey could have been a bit more comfortable.

It might also have contributed to the less than ecstatic feeling I had as the dramatic, mysterious Spanish hills, and mountain of its’ sculptured coastline, disappeared into the distance. To be replaced by the, still green, but now much lower skyline. And the communities, instead of nestling into, seemed to sprawl along. With, what seemed to me, more buildings too tall for their surroundings.

My disappointment continued as we reached the entrance to the river. The surroundings flattened even more, and on the horizon, blocks of apartments were also joined by a number of scruffy looking cranes and oil storage containers. Suddenly I found myself searching for the once obvious but now, seemingly, elusive sense of character.

The welcome received at the marina, after we worked out how to enter via the swinging bridge, was really warm and friendly. However our now customary exploratory walk looking for the older part of town( which was there), had to struggle past more designer shops than we’d become used to.

Just felt that something had changed and something was missing. We didn’t even feel the need for our normal people watching drink.

Back at the marina, I had an interesting chat with the occupants of our neighbouring boats, one Finish the other Swedish. They’d meet on route in Peterhead and were both on their way to the Caribbean, at trip lasting for seventeen months. They both had teenage children. Since that initial meeting, had travelled together and were now sailing companions. Interestingly their common language, useful to us, was English.

Guess what we meet Marco again, and David and Susan. I was great having a friend on shore as we came in to more up, and of course a sociable drink followed.

Bye for now. 

Pete and John.