Ponta de Sagres

I tossed a stone off the end of the world, and I never saw it hit bottom. At the farthest southwestern point of Europe, Ponta de Sagres, the spot at which the world stopped for civilized man before the Portuguese defined the continents beyond, we walked on the rocky cliffs, watching birds dive in and on the wind currents and fishermen defy the gales and gravity as they dropped their lines a few hundred feet into the waves crashing below. We stared out at the endless water under crystal blue skies as the constant roar of the westerly wind made speech and standing up straight all but impossible. This is the Portugal I imagined.

We have found our perfect idyllic beach spot. Tomorrow we will depart Lagos and head west along the coast to the tiny town of Salema, where we've secured a room from an ancient couple for Sunday and Monday nights, our last in this corner of the world before we head for Sevilla, Spain. It's time to sit on the beach, stare at the sea, and allow our bodies and minds to drift into glorious neutral. There are no highrises there, which seem surprisingly prevalent elsewhere along this coast, and we so look forward to their absence.

After visiting the lighthouse at Cape St. Vincente and the fortezza at Ponta de Sagres, a lonely and desolate (though strikingly beautiful) outpost if ever I saw one, we drove down the beach to a cafe on the sand for a light snack of sardines and boiled potatoes. These lovely little fish, much larger than their tinned counterparts, are delicious, fried whole to a crispy perfection, the flesh stripping from the comb of bones with little effort, the potatoes boiled in stock a staple that we have both come to love and depend on. Cafe leite loaded with sugar ensured our wakefulness for the ride back along along the coast to our room in Lagos. At the cafe we talked politics and beaches with a couple of surfer guys from London, of all places, a nice pair of fellows on a months-long wave quest, living the life indeed.

Tonight we will return to a fantastic restaurant we found last night, a multicourse feast of fish or fowl for just under 10 euros, very cheap for this part of the country. Last night I had a tuna steak the size of a small platter, Cathy the mixed meat grill, and tonight we will brave the prawns in a clay pot, served aflame (yes, I know, SO touristy!). They even hand over a tiny clay jug of port at the end of the meal, gratis. Little wonder we love the joint.