After an unmemorable morning, for lunch, we walked down the beach to a nearby snack bar for some “toast” sandwiches. Our experience started with a bit of a disconcerting note as the lemons in two of our cold Coca-Cola drinks were crawling with baby ants, giving us some pause about the quality of the forthcoming sandwiches.
Emmie stands along the edge of the Snack Bar, which overlooks the beach and ocean.
Ready for food at the Snack Bar!
Although the proprietor promised completed sandwiches in 5-10 minutes, he was clearly using Portuguese time, as more than 20 had passed before we saw the first sandwich. The wait was no problem for Noah or Emmie as they had plenty of fun playing in the sand and rocks while waiting for their food.
Equipment was clearly limited at the snack bar as the “toasts” came two-at-a-time until we had our fifth and final panini-like sandwiches. Fortunately, our simple ham-and-cheese toasts arrived bug-free and proved to be quite edible.
We debated spending longer at the beach but decided we’d save our official beach visit of the day for later in the evening. Once we returned home, Eilidh napped, the older kids played outside, Brian did some work, and Cassy and I did some laundry and straightening around the house. Brian also made a brief taxi ride with Noah and Emmie to the center for cash, groceries, and ice cream treats.
We found no real unique, local ice cream in Porto Santo. Instead, nearly every snack bar had a selection if ice cream treats like those shown on the poster.
Noah helped carry the groceries from the store.
We again summoned our favorite taxi driver to take us to a nicer restaurant at the far end of the beach. When we arrived, we spent a few minutes checking out a rocky cove and playing in some sand before heading up the stairs to the restaurant. In addition to offering ocean views, the restaurant featured a large “beach bed” of sorts, made for relaxing and placed along the concrete patio. The kids had a blast jumping and rolling on this while playing with a new friend: a little Portuguese boy, probably about 3 years old.
UV rays were consistently labeled “extremo” when we were in Porto Santo. This sign, at the end-of-the-beach beach, says as much.
We started with an order of Portuguese garlic bread (which was as delicious as the night before) and a round of sodas. I was a bit underwhelmed by my traditional Madeira fish, but Cassy gave great reviews of her seafood spaghetti. Brian found his seafood stew to be tasty but too much. Noah devoured his butter- and oil-topped spaghetti and finished Emmie’s too. It’s noteworthy that the kids finally garnered enough courage to use the Portuguese term “obrigada/o” to tell the wait staff “thank you.”
Brian’s seafood stew.
Cassy’s seafood spaghetti.
The restaurant called a taxi for our return to our neighborhood. We exited the taxi, walked right by our house, and on to the beach to spend the evening.
Cassy and I again finished the evening in the hammock.