We have just returned from a lovely day out at the beach.
It all began the other day, when I was sitting around in the garden, doing nothing in particular, and realised that although we have lived in Portugal for three years, we had not actually visited the coast.
Now, if there’s one thing that Portugal is famous for, it’s the coastline.
It seemed a singular gap in our experience and one that needed to be remedied immediately.
Without much ado, the next day, we set off together with daughter and boyfriend, who are staying with us for a little break.
We had decided to make for Praia de Mira, a small resort some 90 minutes away, on what is called the Silver Coast, or Costa Da Prata.
The journey was through the littoral between the gorgeous ancient city of Coimbra and the coast itself.
It was a lush, well-kept landscape with beautifully maintained roundabouts, sculpted plant arrangements and neat, clean, colourful houses.
Well, what a surprise! Praia de Mira was a little gem.
Principally frequented by local Portuguese, together with a sprinkling of other Europeans – number plates on cars parked along the ample esplanade and voices heard in cafes suggested France and England at least – this little seaside hideaway had a broad and clean beach, with wonderfully warm, soft, powdery sand.
It was great to kick off the sandals and stroll along, like children, with an ice cream in one hand and a pair of shoes in the other.
Mind you, the Atlantic is an unforgiving ocean.
Waves were thundering in, making this a beach more for surfers than swimmers; red flags emphasised that even that pastime was not advisable currently, as the early morning mist retreated before an ever-strengthening sun and adventurous souls headed out to claim a bit of sand for the day.
Behind the frontline apartments, which enjoyed a full sea view, there was an added bonus; a splendid lagoon, replete with a variety of birdlife and, I suppose inevitably, pedalos.
These were a bit of a blot on the otherwise tranquil water, but provided a diversion for families. I happen to dislike them, but I am clearly in the minority, as they were well used.
A delightful little canal, which although man-made, had a pleasingly natural feel meandered through the back streets and was busy with ducks quacking and muttering.
A random gull floated amongst them, as if it was either in disguise or had been adopted by the ducky flotilla – or was simply taking advantage of the frequently thrown hunks of bread, as passers-by ambled along with leftovers from lunch.
The only jarring note was an area defaced by sprayed-on graffiti, which had obviously been allowed to accumulate.
It ruined an otherwise authentic view of traditional huts, which were still used by fishermen and whose trawling nets were drying on the sand at the beach’s edge.
Following a wonderful lunch of locally caught and cooked cod and seafood, we enjoyed a final stroll through the town and then headed for home, tired by the bracing sea air.
I’m so glad that we had made it to the seaside.
Mike Gaunt is a former headmaster at St Christopher’s School, Bahrain
– mikegaunt@gmail.com