The cyclist went for his ‘big’ ride this morning after a late get up. He’d discovered that Monchique was a mountain, not just a mountain village, so went off with the aim of reaching the top. As usual, he gave a gross underestimation of the time needed to complete the task.
Meanwhile, I went for a run down to the beach, came back and had a freezing cold shower…I found the hot water button afterwards – it was outside the cubicle 🙄 I then decided to cook the offensive Camembert that’s been lurking in the fridge all week. Fresh bread, carrots, peppers, pear slices for dipping. All ready – no Guy! He’d phoned to say he was near the top and I thought he’d said he was only 5 miles away and it was downhill. He’d actually said 25 miles 🙄
Unsurprisingly, he returned to a less than rapturous reception as he’d gone off grid too – I was just at the point of checking what ehic covers! 😂
Anyway, he showed willing and got stuck into the cheese even though he looked like he might be sick at any moment. 🤢
Walked back down to the beach late afternoon but it had cooled down considerably. Sunbathed for a bit, trying to be warm, then gave up and came back to put the jumpers on!
PS see photo of all the motorhomes parked on seafront, and shop where you can buy a new John! 🤣