Algarve

We arrive late at an Indian restaurant named Real Indian Magic. Cait is giddy with excitement to see Josie again and runs from the car.

We sit down with Josie, her partner Huew and Chico and immediately cut the small talk. Delicious food and conversation takes us well into the night. Chico speaks of how people don’t breath when waiting for their turn to speak: I’m aware of it for the rest of the night.

With a night cap of a local liqueur we fall into a deep sleep at Chico’s place.

Breakfast: a spread of cheese, meats and bread. A goodbye to Chico and we manage to squeeze everything into the little car - the four of us are off!

Alright - so I’m writing this from a beach in Ericeira, and I’m just going to hit the highlights:

Beautiful pottery studio that Cait and Josie’s mums loved. Incredible colour palette - Portugal knows how to do a blue.

Cait’s childhood home: nestled in the arid farmland outside the town center sits the house. Memories flood back to Cait as she recounts the rooms, games and small animals that characterized this chapter of her life.

Dan on the beach: currently working at a restaurant nearby; Dan joins us for a swim, beach lounge and chat. She’s thriving. The beach is disrespectfully beautiful.

Josie’s childhood home: nestled in a forest by Monchique is Josie’s childhood. She recounts trees that were jungle gyms, sleepovers, the function of old rooms and games that were played. No one was home so we picked some fruit.

Marvão: the night before Waking Life. A sick night for me as I picked up a flu. Hot with a capital “H”, luckily complimented by a pool. A magical pasta dinner outside in the late evening light (9:30pm). A leaf blower to compliment the sunset.