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20_11_27

Author: Iain & Fiona Lewis Published Date: December 10, 2020
We leave the beach a little bit cleaner.
We leave the beach a little bit cleaner.
That’s pretty tropical.
Where’s the steam?
Days don’t get much more perfect than this.
Ruffian Rippling along.
We make some waves.
Yet more deserted beaches.
That’s the Algarve we expected. White high rises as far as the eye can see.
That’s a tight squeeze.
Nothing says classy like owning a gold motorboat.
Fiona is a beacon of light.
The crazily busy streets of a resort town.
Tunnelling towards the beach.
Christmas time. Mistletoe and wine.
It’s official. We’re residents of Portugal.
Cliffs slowly turn into beach.
Beach cliffs and smiles for miles.
Other worldly walking.
That’s not usual. We go upwind.
Ruffian is able to sail herself.
There are pots of gold to be found.
Masterchef.
High skies and high clouds.
The maintenance never stops.

Author: Iain & Fiona Lewis

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