Deux Escargots

We had a horrible moment on the Autovia this morning.

I think that I actually shrieked and possibly also invoked a deity that I have no actual belief in.

We were bowling along when I suddenly spotted a dog. He was a large smooth-haired lurcher type and he was in the fast lane and on his hind legs, looking over the concrete separator. His blonde colour made him blend perfectly with the concrete.

Mr Snail jumped when I yelled, then also spotted the dog and he applied the anchors whilst also invoking a non-existent deity.

It was a hairy moment, made all the hairier by active imaginations considering just what might have happened.

We drove on in silence and then I said "You know, if we ever want to replace Nell once she has gone, we could do a lot worse (morally speaking) than to drive down here and see which dog decides to adopt us."

So very many of them.

This came hard on the heels of tears at La Rabida yesterday, when we contemplated the large number of homeless cats there. There was one old feller who was clearly unwell and suffering. It was hard not to scoop him up but common sense got the better of me and I realised that handling any of the cats was a poor idea when we had to go home to Dusty.

It’s all very distressing.

When I woke this morning the only thought in my head was that I didn’t want to stay another night where we were. It was with some trepidation that I offered this thought to Mr Snail. It was a great relief when he said that he had been thinking along the same lines.

It was not an easy decision. It seemed crazy not to visit the museum or wander about the botanic gardens and I am sure that if the day had been a better one we might have looked at things differently.

On the face of it, it was a great place to stop, with much to see and do and easy, if not entirely pleasant, walking for exercising the dog. In practice, the area was…. seedy. Clearly much money had been around to set it up but neglect had followed. There was much rubbish lying around and once darkness fell the area appeared to be a magnet for courting couples, with cars parked up all around us. There was a constant industrial hum from the port and an unpleasant smell of oil.

I actually felt quite vulnerable parked there.

So, at breakfast time we were weighing up the possibilities. Man up and stay put another night? Move off to Gibraleón or Ayamonte? Go all the way to Sagres a day early?

It seemed so foolish not to visit the museum at least. I really wanted to visit the gardens too but the day was grey and damp. We could return some other time when the sun was out…

We wavered.

Then the bus turned up. Closely followed by another bus. Then another, and another and another… and the kids poured out of them.

Did we really want to share the tiny museum with 250 schoolchildren? Did we want to be in the hold of a Caravel with a bunch of them?

I am slightly ashamed to say that we did not.

The museum and the ships could wait.

Where to, though?

My opinion was that it was perverse to go anywhere just to delay arrival at Sagres by a day. Eventually Mr Snail agreed.

We are now in Sagres.

We have paid for a thirty day stay. Due to leave the day after Christmas.