Blame it on the photo.

It looked so enticing on the Airbnb website. A white arch providing a stunning gateway to the view beyond—a cloudless blue sky above, boats on the water below. The breathtaking view cinched the decision of where to launch our European journey. If we got homesick, or if things weren’t going well that day, we could look out through that arch and remind ourselves that yes, this is worth it.

The photo didn’t lie. The arch was atop our apartment building a couple of hundred yards from the waterfront in Santa Luzia, and the view was indeed astounding. The sky really was a lovely deep blue, and the boats were there at the water’s edge.

We ascended to the rooftop several times during our week-plus in the Algarve region of southern Portugal, to enjoy the vista or simply bask in the sun. One of us (not Christine) got up early a couple of times to enjoy the sunrise over the Atlantic. Whatever time and whatever day we went, the view was always as promised.

Of course, one view from one rooftop isn’t why we embarked on this journey. We want to spend the year getting to know new people, exploring new places, and having new experiences. Our short stay in the Algarve checked most of the boxes, but often in unexpected ways.

We met some wonderful people. Brian and Ann, who own the flat next to ours, drove us up the coast to Cacela Velha, Vila Real de Santo Antonio, and Casto Marim for a delightful day of sight-seeing. We had a cup of coffee with Ed and Iris at Padaria Vila Doce, a waterfront café in Santa Luzia. We had interesting conversations with Charles and Gladys who were walking their miniature schnauzer—just like ours, only with a real tail—and Daniel and Claire at the castle in Tavira.

 

Astute observers will notice that the names aren’t exactly Portuguese. There’s not a João or a Beatriz among them. All of our new friends hailed from the British Isles—England, Scotland, and Northern Island. We only talked with a few locals. A very nice woman on the train from Faro to Tavira the night we arrived made sure we didn’t miss our stop; octopus sculptor Victor told us about life in Santa Luzia; and Danae, our waitress at Cais de Santa Luzia, was very friendly and helpful. Clearly—and unsurprisingly—the language barrier is going to be an obstacle in meeting people and learning about the culture.

Even if our Portugal leg was shy of meeting actual Portuguese, it was still chock full of fascinating and friendly folks. Brian and Ann, who hail from a small town in the Midlands of England, fell in love with Portugal when they first came for a visit more than three decades ago. They bought their place in Santa Luzia a couple of years ago, and take advantage of the cheap airfares to come here several times a year.

They are thoroughly plugged into the expat community and were always heading out for dinner and drinks with friends. They have a real affection and respect for the people and the way of life here. Brian’s best quote: “I don’t like the English.” Meaning the English tourists who expect everything to be the way it is back home. Words of wisdom for a couple of Americans adapting to life without the comforts of home.

Ed and Iris have a caravan permanently anchored at a nearby park. They spend half the year here and half back in England. Ed told a horror story about dealing with Portuguese health care and insurance companies. What will happen if we get sick in Europe is one of our great unknowns, so it was perhaps not the best conversation during the first week of the one-year journey. Ed was also happy to talk politics. He’s pro-Brexit, and doesn’t regret his vote even though a no-deal Brexit would restrict Brits to no more than 90 days on the continent in a 180-day period.

Iris was amazing. She was evacuated from London to Wales during World War II when she was 9, but wasn’t treated well by her host family. With the help of a 12-year-old boy, she ran away and went back home. She made her way to Victoria Station and walked the rest of the way. Her experience of feeling abandoned is likely what motivated her to foster 24 children.

Charles and Gladys gladly stopped to chat about our mutual love for schnauzers. They are caravanners who drove here from Scotland. Daniel and Claire were from Belfast, and encouraged us to visit when we make our way to Ireland. We had recently watched a movie called The Boxer, set in Belfast during The Troubles. The city is nothing like that now, they assured us.

Even though most of our conversations were with Brits, we were able to interact with locals. During our first visit to the closest restaurant the owner let us know what was available by pointing to items on the menu. During our second visit she remembered what we liked to eat and drink.

We enjoyed exploring the Algarve—at least what we could get to on foot, bus, or train.

Our feet took us all around Santa Luzia; to Casa do Polvo, where we ate octopus, the local specialty; to the café for morning coffee; to Cais de Santa Luzia, where I had one of the best burgers ever and where Christine got to cut her pizza with Thor’s hammer.

They took us to Praia do Barril (Barril Beach), where we lazed in lounge chairs on a wonderfully warm early December afternoon, and to the delightful town of Tavira, where we explored the medieval castle, walked over the Roman bridge, ate in an Irish pub, and saw numerous Christmas lights, some reflected magically on the river.

Public transportation is inexpensive and useful. We took the train to Olhao, where we hiked the Ria Formosa Natural Park, and the bus to Faro, where we walked around Old Town.

We expected to do a lot of walking. We’re counting on the calorie burn to offset the food consumption and hopefully even lose a pound or 10. And we expected to frequently utilize public transportation. Still, it’s somewhat limiting—especially when you can’t get Google maps to work on your phone with the prepaid SIM card. And walking from Point A to B—from the Olhao train station to Ria Formosa Natural Park, for example—can take you through some sketch neighborhoods.

In hindsight, we wished we’d rented a car to do even more exploring. But since we’re trying to minimize expenses, no real regrets.

We also thought Tavira might have been a better base for our time in the Algarve. It’s bigger (population about 30,000) with more to do and better access to transportation hubs.

But again, no real regrets. Our slow-paced fishing village was the ideal place to start the journey. The weather was perfect, the food was terrific, and the people were friendly. We even had a comical ride to the bus terminal from our apartment hosts and their children, the six of us in their small car. We learned that our French host learned her English from a term in Oklahoma as a foreign exchange student, but she had no twang.

And if we’d stayed somewhere else, we’d have missed the view from the arch.