By Jenny Grainer
“I can’t complain that my life has ever been boring. I don’t ask for things to happen to me they just do.”
These words are quoted at the very beginning of my book Portugal and the Algarve Now and Then. I just wish these things that happen would stop! And so to the latest episode…
Thursday May 2 found me bowling along in our Citroën 2cv on my way to Faro Airport, all set to fly to England on the first leg of an all-too-rare visit to see my grandchildren.
Liverpool was to be the first stop, at my son’s home, to attend my twin granddaughters’ first communion the next morning – I had missed my eldest granddaughter’s big event two years before when major surgery had kept me in Lisbon, so I was determined to get there this time.
My train was booked to then travel down, after the bank holiday, to Brighton where my daughter has added to the family with my grandson – now nearly two and walking – whilst my youngest son, also in Brighton, has just become engaged.
I arrived in the nick of time for check-in and whilst my husband was loading my suitcase, I handed over my passport. The charming lady was busily studying the computer when she asked if he was travelling also, to which I replied no. “Ah,” she commented, “but this is his passport.” What!?
I almost shrieked but sadly had to face the fact that yes I had brought the wrong document and I would once again not be travelling to Liverpool to see anybody’s first communion.
As there were no more flights to Liverpool that day – I dejectedly negotiated an afternoon flight to Gatwick as my only choice, returned home for the correct passport and once again returned to the airport and checked in.
The flight also had its own little drama as we sat in the plane on a runway for two hours waiting for a takeoff slot because there was a hole in the other runway that we should have been on. We finally took off in time for me to arrive at my daughter’s home at 12.30 in the morning of Friday, when she informed me she had thoughtfully booked me on a train to Liverpool on Saturday.
Saturday morning, as I boarded the train for London, I left behind me a Brighton station full of festive and colourful people down for the Brighton Festival. Arriving at Victoria station, there were also plenty of strangely dressed people but that was just normal clothes.
The next part of my trip was to negotiate my way on the underground to Euston station to catch the train to Crewe where I would change for Warrington – my destination. The whole trip was timed down to the second with me running to make the shiny Virgin train for the longest part and finally settling in my seat.
This modern train, being a first, had me a bit puzzled as I tried to find my way into a loo when the need arose. The smoothly curved cubicle eventually revealed a button which made two parts in a seemingly solid wall slide back to reveal a very spacious inside and another button to close the two halves again. Somewhat belatedly I also discovered another one to lock, fortunately before mishap had occurred.
I eventually greeted my family well after the main event, duly admired the beautiful dresses which had been worn and belatedly offered my carefully chosen gifts with somewhat crushed wrapping.
After dinner, and when my over-excited grandchildren and their parents had retired to their first floor bedrooms, it was 10pm and a chance to relax on the sofa and watch a couple of hours of ‘my choice’ TV before making up the spare bed and switching off the lights.
Around two hours later, a strange noise woke me and, in my groggy state, I couldn’t figure out what it was.
I eventually came to the conclusion that whatever it was, it was in the room with me. Then I saw the lights on the ceiling going from side to side and up and down. Whilst reasoning that the Martians had not landed I was further confused by feeling the underneath of my bed vibrating and the noise getting even louder.
At this point I finally crept out of my bed found the light switch and watched in awe as a small flying saucer continued whizzing around the floor until it’s time ran out and it docked itself near a plug. I later discovered that this piece of modern technology is my daughter-in-law’s vacuum cleaner that the twins had evidently reprogrammed to work at night!
The weather for my trip was glorious and all the flowers, trees and shrubs that had been hiding under the snow throughout the cold winter were in full bloom. As a family we took advantage and went to beautiful wild country parks, accompanied always by the adorable family dog, and had a great time.
Tuesday came too soon and I caught the train back to Brighton to spend the remaining few days with my daughter, son-in-law, handsome young grandson and newly engaged younger son.
I returned to Portugal without further mishap suffering from quite unpleasant hay fever, further aggravated by the Jacarandas being in full bloom on arrival and an unpleasant stomach bug.
It was an exhausting trip but all very worthwhile. Virgin is no longer a name in an advert on TV. I’ve seen a round disc magically clean carpet, wood and tiles, and I am full of happy memories of time spent with my own little dynasty.
|| features@algarveresident.com
Jenny Grainer arrived in the Algarve to live, work and raise a family in 1968. She is a freelance writer and her book ‘Portugal and the Algarve Now and Then’ has sold more than 2,000 copies.
