Coastal Adventures Part Three: Pajama Party In The Car

It started as this notion of adventure - sleeping in the car on the sand, windows down with the sound of crashing waves wooing us into dreamland. While there was some wooing, it was related more closely to fending off hypothermia. We pulled into yet another beach around 10pm and parked ourselves just in front of a camper which turned out to be the traveling home of a weary French couple who were seriously confused by our car escapade. It all began warm enough - two people, tiny car, lots of body-generated heat. We did a slideshow of the day’s pictures on the computer, had a late-night snack of nutella smeared on bread, slipped into some sweatpants, cracked the windows for ventilation, reclined and began the dozing off process. While it wasn’t the most ideal of sleeping situations, there a certain sense of “if I can sleep in an Opel on the beach in Portugal then I can do anything” that kept me feeling rather brave about my misguided choice. Meanwhile, Zeynep was buried in my silk sleep sack from Vietnam literally from head to toe. She looked like a big blue caterpillar.


Two hours later we were frozen solid. Zeynep woke up first, pawing around for the key with the hope of starting the engine and cranking the heater. Sadly, without compressing the brake you can’t start the car. A few more attempts at turning the engine over and I arose from my slumber. The only problem was, I couldn’t feel my legs due to the numbness that had set in from the frigid conditions inside. “Oh my god, it’s too cold. I need the heater NOW,” she told me. I stomped on the brake, she turned and we cranked up the heat. “Can we just let it run all night,” she asked me. In my half-asleep stupor I attempted to think about her request but for whatever reason - maybe the impending hypothermia, maybe my grogginess, maybe the Dengue fever from a year and a half ago, I couldn’t seem to put it all together.


I could make out the gas gauge though, and it was in the red, the little “gas” light blinking in my face. Why, might you ask, was the gauge on empty? Because the car rental place operates on a “leave empty, return empty” policy to “save money.” Me being too cheap for my own good (literally, at this point), I refused to fill it past a quarter tank at any moment, wanting to roll back into Lagos on fumes and make my Dad proud. Now here we were, freezing in a car on the beach and unable to heat ourselves up because I was waging a personal war with a scandalous car rental company. “How about 30 minutes for now? That should be good,” I suggested, not an ounce of authority in my voice. “Okay,” Zeynep uttered, reluctantly.

And so we laid there in silence, dozing in and out while the car heater slowly brought our frozen limbs back to life. I woke up almost thirty minutes later to the second, now sweating profusely in my three layers of clothes. It felt good. I turned the key and all fell silent again. Let the re-freezing process begin. Zeynep, the weather, our little Opel and I repeated this process every two hours on the dot for the rest of the night, hitting 2am, 4am and 6am sharp before finally rising to natural heat around 8am: Zeynep waked up, fumbles for key. Pokes me. I press the brake pedal. Heater rumbles to power. De-freezing begins. Thirty minutes later I wake up sweating. Turn key. All is silent again.






While it wasn’t ideal, we both woke up oddly rested, a picturesque panorama of pristine ocean and seaside cliffs out the window. Was it worth it? Absolutely. If for nothing else, something to blog about.

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Kyle Taylor

Coastal Adventure Part Two: Surfers, Dunes and Sunset

We last left off with me going on about the majesty of the Portuguese coast. Alas, Sagres was just the beginning. Because of the coast’s national park status, the main highway follows along about four miles inland, dotted with tiny beach towns that mark the entrance to access roads which lead to each of the nearly thirty unique beaches just in Algarve (Portugal’s southern-most region). Once you’re “in,” there are often smaller roads that run right up against the edge of cliffs, making for some spectacular driving.









Our first official “stop” was at the surf beach, where we stumbled upon an apparent “surf camp.” Now, I’ve never really known of a “camp” in this sense but not only do people take lessons from professionals (Portugal is home to some of the World’s greatest surfers), they also camp out on the beach, with evenings turning into giant barbecue masquerades. We just stopped for lunch (which we had packed with fresh bread, pastrami, fresh mozzarella, nutella, fruit, chocolate milk and chips) and to take in the perfection that was this beach. Endless sand, a light breeze, people just sort-of hanging out and a feeling that the rest of the World just did not exist.






The felling stayed with us as we followed the tiny paved access road up along the water, cruising right at the edge of the massive cliffs. It was perfect. We then wound back down a switchback road, where we stumbled upon miles and miles of sand dunes protected by cliffs on threes sides that peered over the dunes like overprotective parents. After parking, Zeynep and I followed the wooden path out over the inland waterway before jumping down into the softest sand I have ever trekked through. Besides the two folks who were heading out, we had the entire stretch of magnificent desolation to ourselves. Naturally, fun ensured.



From there it was back to the main road and through the teeny tiny town of Aljuler, where we stopped off for information on the perfect place to watch sunset, as well as a juice from the town square, which was the quaintest, most adorable little town square I have ever seen. “This beach here is the most beautiful beach for the sunset,” a local woman told us, pointing on our map. “It is 50 kilometers north, so you should go now.”






Go we went, and I mean go! I love cars. LOVE. CARS. I used to subscribe to about five different car magazines and like most boys, if there is a winding open road, a European-tuned car, good music and no posted speed limit, I begin to think I am a race car driver and act accordingly. For the next 45 minutes I was Mario Andretti and the Opel Corsa 1.2 complete with tip-tronic shifter was my Ferrari.






We zoomed into our sunset beach a good hour before sundown, which left time for a wander through the town and exploration of the beach, It turns out the beach itself is right at the outlet of a river, which made for some gorgeous beach-scape. As it always does, the sun clipped below the horizon and I took a million pictures. We finished our evening with dinner literally ON the water, dining on fish they caught ten minutes before that was grilled up over an outdoor barbecue. It was DIVINE. Then it was time for the ultimate adventure. To save money we decided to sleep in the car on a beach - not this beach - another one (trying to see as much as humanly possible). Alas, that hilarious moment will have to wait for the next episode.

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Kyle Taylor

Coastal Adventure Part One: Sagres

During our brief stint detained at the border, the lovely immigration officer (the one who gave us food, not the one who incorporated the use of homing pigeons) told us “the most beautiful part of Portugal is the southwest coast. You must get there, or else you have not experienced Portugal.” Now, I ask you, with a recommendation like that, how could we NOT see it? As Zeynep is new to driving and I haven’t driven a stick-shift in almost 6 years, we “splurged” on an automatic, deciding to save money by sleeping in the car. More on that brilliant idea in a following episode.



Our first port of call is Sagres, once thought to be the edge of the World (when people thought the Earth was flat, which is the historical equivalent of US religious leaders going on about how equal rights is somehow “destroying democracy;” good one guys). It is also where Henry the Navigator invented navigation, which led to Portugal becoming the World’s greatest naval power for nearly 100 years (they were the first to sail around the World, proving it was round). We visited the massive fort, which led to an hour-long walk to get to the very edge of Europe. This was one enormous fort! We also stopped at Europe’s second strongest lighthouse, which we later saw in action nearly 50km up the coast.



Then, in a snap decision, we took a left off the main road onto what started as a paved side route but quickly became a dirt path complete with enormous rocks, big ditches and lots of dust. While the car may not have liked it so much, we certainly did, as our prowess led us into a traffic jam with a herd of cattle. I have always had this idea in my head that there is no other quintessential European “moment” then getting stuck in “traffic” with either sheep or cows (thank you romantic comedies about Ireland, where they always seem to get stuck behind a herd of something).



From there is was onward and upward, as we bobbed and weaved through one of the nation’s largest national parks, which has meant near total preservation of what I have to say is one of the most beautiful coastlines in the World, and I grew up in California! Jagged peaks, crashing waves, untouched sandy beaches, dunes, inland waterways, marshes, tide pools, pelicans, seagulls and the freshest air you’ll ever inhale. With that, I will close part one. More soon.




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Kyle Taylor

LAGOS = PERFECT

Sadly, my words won’t nearly capture the beauty of this place, so I’m going to post lots of pictures instead! We had oddly been warned that this place was “overwrought” with tourists, though those folks must have grown up on a farm in a town of twenty because to a southern California boy and a big-city Turkish girl, this place feels deserted. We followed the “map” to a 6-inch wide DIRT PATH which is apparently the main route to the beaches. A good hour-long HIKE later with several confirmations [“yes, this is where you go, follow the path behind the sign that says “Warning: Unstable Edges & Faling Rocks.” The one that’s behind the big fence.” Um, ok?] we stumbled upon this incredible lighthouse that led down into hidden grottos where - for $12 - we took an hour-long boat ride along the coast before being dropped at paradise; I mean the beach. We’ve just taken our post-sun shower and we’re off to introduce Lagos to the new, improved, tanned Kyle and Zeynep.














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Kyle Taylor