Weekends

People say to us "I don't suppose there's much difference between the weekend and a weekday, is there?" Err, WRONG! Our local shop cum bar - Sala de Convivio as it's rather nicely called - closes at 3pm on a Sunday (c.f. 8pm the rest of the week). Which means we can frequently be caught napping if we want to fit a couple of beers in between getting up and catching Eastenders on BBC Prime. Nobody said it was going to be easy out here!

Below is a gratuitously gratuitous picture of the sea breaking on the rocks at Faja Grande where we live.

Let's try again, shall we?

You would think that giving up high powered jobs in Edinburgh (UK) to retire at the financially unhealthy ages of 42 and 48 respectively to the island of Flores in the Azores would be a bloggable sort of subject, wouldn't you? Well I can't really understand why I've not really managed the blog thing to date. Anyway, this blog is under new management, all previous entries have been deleted (both of them) and the new management ethos is "Stream of Consciousness" - i.e. don't think about it too much, just blog it. So ... What grabbed me today was this advert for holidays in the Azores in Hello! magazine. Apart from the marina and the dolphin, all the pics are of our island of Flores - we live in the distance of the pic at top right.