Faro

Day #1.

Tuesday 30th March.
6.25am flight.

Woke up in a cold sweat after barely three hours sleep. James told me he'd leggy kicked his cup on waking and got tea dregs all over the bed. Half an hour passed by in a dazed kind of way.

Contemplated the dark 3am motorway wondering if I was nervous whilst James' dad [Our Heavenly Father] offered advice on all things Portugal. I witnessed going through a toll booth for the first time. According to comrade Lawless leaving a toll booth is the most exciting part of the motorway; a free-for-all for five seconds. 

Check-in was a breeze thanks to Our Heavenly Father's Monarch gold club member thing. We were promised six inches of leg room on the plane. I thought about that being the same size as a willy and wondered if I should be impressed. James said that it seems like a lot. We didn't get it in the end. Even though I'd tried to convince myself that I was relaxed I still had to admit defeat and hold clammy hands with James for take-off. It was definitely more bearable than flying with US Gayways. I'm thinking about giving up on the whole panicking thing. In the air I felt proud like I always do when I fly. Also wondered if the weird flying sensation is similar to what birds feel when they fly. It’s like your head is riding giant waves of air slash cloud. Sometimes I have to put my hand on the chair in front of me to remind myself which way up I am. 

Landing is still my favourite part. It’s very satisfying, my head can hack descending. The only thing I don't like is when the plane banks round and it feels like the world’s gone wonky. Sadly my ever-growing view of Faro was interrupted by someone loudly blowing their nose. With my foot firmly on Portuguese soil it didn't feel any different. Maybe I needed to wear Portuguese footwear to feel the benefit. Faro aeroporto was quite relaxed and empty. There were red trolleys displayed in the centre of the baggage carousels and the floor of the ladies toilet cubicle was very wet.

Simon [taxi-bot] took us to the villa. He had an air of smug familiarity about him as he's ferried the Montgomery's around before. Apparently he's always very talktive with Shazza. He was a silent arse with us. On the way to the villa there were a lot of places selling pottery, mainly giant terracotta things. Wondered why the houses all have to be white. Gimpsed what may have been a Portuguese council estate slash ghetto with white peeling paint and washing hanging out of cobwebbed windows. Nearby there was a petrol station called Galp which made me think of people gulping petrol.

Villa du mon [Lote 2, Sitios dos Moinhos, Rua do Brasil] amazing. It’s the kind of place that would never be mine. Clean, classy and spacious with giant pieces of art and elephant statues. The sofas are yellow leather which is a winner. There's a bidet in my ensuite. I’ve never used one. May try it but unsettled by the idea that the water might be too cold for my bumhole. Sounded like a golddigger when reminding James that one day it could all be his [bidet included].

Starving so made myself a cheese sandwich with bread called Bimbo. Slightly sweet but diddy slices. Then there was half a ham and cheese pizza whilst watching Sex and the City. Decide to tour the garden and we realise it's gorgeously warm out so what are we doing inside. Decide to sun lounge instead. Change into Henry Holland swimsuit, three-quarter denims and shades. Spritz on the transparent SPF 35. We fancy a bevvy and agree on gin. I get excited about jazzing up the glasses with a slice of lemon to make it look tropicana. Go to pick one from the lemon tree in the garden(!) James slices and I sniff, 'Ooh it smells lovely!' James sniffs, 'It's an orange.' Apparently they have lemon and orange trees. Blows my mind. The orange adds an agreeable smell to the gin. I feel quite tipsy and we agree that this is the longest day of our lives. Avoid 3am starts in future.

Discuss favourite Abba songs even though neither of us is a major fan. James gets very annoyed that he can't remember the 'dark, dancey, underground, urban' song that follows 'Gimme, Gimme Gimme' in Mamma Mia! The song right before the blonde who was in Mean Girls collapses. Oblivious, the dvd confirms it's 'Voulez Vous'. Banger of a song.

Back out in the sun James falls asleep, gin glass in hand, after tiring of me discussing if flakeyness can get you by in life. I rest my eyes and twitch in the sun for a bit to the constant sound of Shazza's wind chimes. If I open my eyes and look straight ahead I can see the sun peeking through Portuguese palms. Might pool it now.