Is Lagos the most beautiful place in the world?
There have only been a handful of places I have been which seem to earn the hype of their marketing or tourism boards. As I have mentioned before, I don’t really enjoy tourist traps, and it is always the off the beaten path locations which capture my imagination. However, there have been a few exceptions. The Amalfi Coast, London, and Rome are a few which come to mind. The throngs of tourist and kitschy souvenirs are worth weeding through in order to witness what these locations boast. The Algarve in Portugal has also been one of them. It has its fair share of tourism, I’ve been told, particularly in the summers, which I have yet to experience. Yet, much of The Algarve is untouched, well kept and preserved. But then again, it is winter.
A couple of weeks ago, Kyle and I were working and considering if we could pull off a quick trip to France. As it would be, last minute planning doesn't always work in our favor, and we couldn’t quite arrange everything in time. As an alternative, I began researching Airbnb’s in The Algarve. Pinpointing Lagos in particular, we booked a stay and a rental car.
The Algarve runs along the southern most coast of Portugal. Known for its high craggy cliffs and natural arches, lording over sand and rock beaches, contrasted by glittering azure waters. It’s balmy, even in winter, and the sunsets are worth coming for alone. Famously, it is known to be a hub for expats immigrating to thaw out their bones from lifetimes of living in colder, harsher climates.
Our Airbnb was located right in the town center, and to our surprise and delight had an ocean view. The kids squabbled about who got which bed, which resulted in one of them being exiled to sleep on the sofa in the living room to preserve the peace. Traveling with children never fails to have its challenging moments, and Kyle and I are learning how to navigate these hiccups on the fly. Hearing a wailing infant down the hall in another apartment, we patted ourselves on the back for surviving those sleepless days of old. We have a few more lines engraved in our faces, and a crown of gray hair threatening to take over by age forty, but we are out of the early childhood stage. These two sweet humans can see the world with us, albeit a little sibling drama.
We had arrived after dark to ensure two full days of exploring, and it was hard to get a feel of the beachy town in the late evening. So, we left our accommodations in search of dinner. As luck would have it, we ended up stumbling upon a glorious little Tapas restaurant. The food was delicious, and our waiter took on the self appointed role of being our personal tutor of the Portuguese language. Stuffed mushrooms, cogumelos, Portuguese cheese and bread, queijo a pão, with local olive oil. A promise from my eldest daughter to the waiter to return to the restaurant speaking only in Portuguese.
It was delightful.
The next morning, we woke with the sun to ensure the fullest day possible, and optimal shooting light for me with my camera in hand. As it turns out, the sleepy little town center of Lagos enjoys a proper lie in, and we had a difficult time finding coffee before eight AM. Those who have had the sheer pleasure of being in my company before my first cup of coffee in the morning know delayed caffeine awakes my inner dragon. I kept my head about me, sort of anyway, and finally we came across a delicious little coffee shop, tucked back in the winding streets. Feeling human again, we went straight to survey the ocean fronts.
In Lagos, one beach front is more gorgeous than the next. Lucky timing for us, being winter and early morning, we had free reign of the ocean to ourselves.
The remainder of our afternoon was spent beach hopping, wave chasing and getting lost while admiring the narrow streets of Lagos. Colorful pastel homes, with orange shingled roofs lined the streets, each with a personality and patina of their own. Sun burnt palms rimmed the main roads, and framed hotels as a constant reminder of our proximity to the ocean.
As the sun started to surrender itself to the horizon, we made our way back to the cliffs overlooking the sea to catch the last whispers of light. There is something undeniably poetic about the finale of a day. It’s as if the sun makes an agreement with the ocean to collaborate in pure pastel color and light, dancing into the dark.
As I stood amongst the small group of admirers perched at different heights, scattered on the face of the cliffs, a collective deep breathe could be felt. The permission to rest; to be human and not a machine.
I have had the privilege of being able to travel to a handful of countries, and I don’t take this privilege lightly. Sitting on top of ancient Trulli’s, I’ve watch sunsets, and walked next to emerald Mediterranean waters. I’ve kayaked in cold waters on Canadian inlets, trekked through the English countryside, and hiked Jamaican hillsides. Yet, I couldn’t help wondering is in this moment, is Lagos the most beautiful place in the world? The romantic in me says yes, and the wanderer in me says I will have to keep traveling to answer this question.
x. Mandy in Lisbon
Note: All photos are copyright of Mandy Hanson Reid. Do not use without permission. Several of the photos featured are limited or open edition prints available for purchase upon request. Inquire at mandy@mandyreid.com . Travel Manifesto x Mandy in Lisbon t-shirts will be returning to the shop soon. Thank you for your support.
