If you’re not the One

… then why does my hand fit yours this way?

A surreal image, as I walked the coastal path from Luz, a day before taking Ryanair to Dublin and a reunion with family and friends in the icy January conditions.

There was more than a little tug, as I drove away from my daughters, to travel solo back to my caravan. Within a day, the draw of transient friends, the deep blues of sky and ocean and the freedom to be me, won out.

To reset and rebalance my mood and emotions, I dragged my toes through the powdery micro-crystals of sand on Praia da Luz.

Then, my rugby-worshipping daughter sent me a WhatsApp – the Irish Rugby squad were in a high-performance training camp in Quinta do Lago. Armed with my biggest lens, I took the A22 on Saturday morning.

A man and his mission crash-landed, when security surrounded me as I emerged from my car with my camera. No amount of Irish persuasion worked, and I was left to watch tiny dots run back and forth on the sun-soaked playing field.

But all was not lost. Quinta do Lago is where I first saw Sandra in 1988 and met her the following year. Quinta do Lago is drenched in anticipation, anguish, obsession and longing. Personally, it has unsurpassed beauty and I feel I belong there. Every place, restaurant, and beach retains a mist of our past and life together.

So, I spent the morning driving slowly through its magnificence, really torturing myself in a way, but joyful for the life experience.

Shaking myself, I drove to Julia’s restaurant on the beach. Julias was our first point of call on every visit to the Algarve. It started as a shack with a tent and is now an enterprise, adopted by the Irish.