Easter Long Weekend came upon us quickly this year, and as Joe and I basked in the sun on the rooftop of our AirBNB in Faro, overlooking the Atlantic Sea, we thought why not throw in a day trip to Lagos while we’re here.
Exiting the train station, I’m not ashamed to say we fell into a perfectly set tourist trap; a Portuguese lady in a standalone booth smothered in photos of kayakers exploring the stunning coastline. Everything else to date had been ridiculously inexpensive so we asked her how much a kayak tour would cost. ‘Two and a half hour trip for 30 Euros. Next one departs in 30 minutes’, was her nonchalant reply. I sensed she wasn’t pushing the trip on us because she didn’t need to, at that price it’s an easy sell, and a sales tactic that worked because we spontaneously bought the two last tickets on the spot.
At 1:30 we boarded a large catamaran, which was to carry our kayaks and the 14 of us on the tour from the Lagos harbour to the drop off point a few miles from the Algarve Coastline.
We couldn’t have asked for a better day, the water was an immaculate shade of blue, so clear you could see directly to the bottom despite the depth. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky to offer shade from the sun beating overhead, so we slabbed on the sunscreen in layers before venturing out in our double sea kayaks.
As our guide stated, ‘there isn’t a better way to see the Algarve caves than in a kayak’, and he wasn’t mistaken. The small boats enabled you to explore every nook and cranny. Often our guide would instruct us to stay behind while he disappeared through a small opening in front of us, before reappearing but a moment later stating ‘it is possible to pass.’ There wasn’t a time when he said it wasn’t but I wondered if we would have had to become a rescue team if that was the case.
Regardless, he taught us how to manoeuvre our kayaks through tiny gaps behind him, at some points it became essential to keep the paddle snug on the side of the boat and use our hands to guide us through the narrow pass.
The weathering of time crafted the most astonishing rock formations and our guide was not hesitant to point out their similarities to certain animals. ‘See over there? Doesn’t that rock look like an elephant drinking out of the sea?, he would say, ‘or look at King Kong with his arms crossed! There’s even a birdy sitting on her head, ha!’
Our group ooo’d and ahhh’d in agreement, but he confided in us that he had been guiding a trip last week where one of the girls had quietly asked him if he had taken any drugs before the trip as she thought he was on hallucinogenics. ‘Can you believe it, such a lack of imagination?’ he said to us, still utterly perplexed by her comment.
The next cave we entered was called Lovers Cove. ‘Want to know why?’ our guide asked, ‘because if you swim 2 meters under this rock you’ll find yourself directly in front of Lagos’ Nudist beach. Sometimes couples swim in here for…well… I think the name says enough. But that’s if your lucky! Other times I’ve taken groups in here to find men stark naked, sitting on the rocks and greeting us. We’re used to nudity in Portugal, but a lot of the tourists get quite offended!’ he laughed.
As we exited to Cove, he told us to glance to the right if we dared as we’d have plain sight of the nudist beach. I regret that choice after getting an eyeful of old men facing us square on with their packages on full display. It may be the afternoon but it is still far too early for that.
As the naked men, disappeared into the horizon we found a deserted stretch of beach to dock the kayaks on for a quick swim. The water had been taunting us all day, and we had worked up quite the sweat with all our paddling.
I felt I could have stayed on that secluded beach all day, but we were called back to the catamaran 20 minutes later, signalling the end of the excursion.
As we sailed back to Lagos and I couldn’t have been happier with my spontaneous tour purchase outside the train station that morning.
Live Like Lenai 