Getting wet in Faro...

I think I’ve mentioned it already: it’s been wet recently – VERY wet.

Much of the country is flooded, especially up north. We’ve had thirteen storms on the trot apparently, the last one being Marta. Fields are under water, businesses are under water, towns and villages are underwater. People’s livelihoods have been destroyed. Some have lost everything. Some have lost their lives.

In the East Algarve, we’ve been relatively lucky. Yes, we’ve been buffeted, yes, we’ve been soaked. But we seem to have avoided the worst. Alcoutim on the Guadiana has suffered some flooding, roads have been washed away around Monchique, Albufeira suffered a tornado, but all things considered, we’ve got off lightly.

Have I suffered any damage personally? Only a little.

On my roof terrace, there’s a skylight-cum-air vent. This was covered with a piece of Perspex that came off sometime in mid-January. The room below got a bit of a soaking, but buckets and plastic storage crates coped with most of it. I’ve since made a temporary solution to replace the Perspex, consisting of a storage box, some washing line and a heavy umbrella stand. Very ‘Professor Brainstorm’, I know, but it seems to have done the trick – except when the wind has been so strong that the rain has hit the house horizontally, and entered via the air vents. Bummer. Still, I’m a lot better off than many people. Those in Leiria, in particular, have taken a hell of a beating.

But I did sample a taste of what has happened elsewhere, albeit, only for a couple of minutes.

My Australian friend was here in late January, and we decided to hire a car. The easiest place to do that is the airport, so we caught the train to Faro. From the station, we were either going to take a taxi, a bus or maybe even walk to the airport, depending on the weather. This was around the time of Storm Kristin. It wasn’t raining yet, but it was very grey and windy.

Once on the train, we noticed a few spots of rain on the windows, but nothing to write home about. The train stopped at Olhão, and then onto Bom João and lastly Faro. As we pulled into the station, I noticed that the rain was slightly heavier, but nothing to concern us. We queued to get off with everyone else, and just as we reached the train door, the heavens opened. Bloody hell.

We knew we couldn’t stay on the train, since it would soon be leaving on its onward journey, so we had little choice. We went for it. As we did, it was as though someone had hit us from behind with a bucket of water. Bollocks! Instantly, we were soaked. I have never felt water running down my legs INSIDE my jeans as a result of rain before. Yes, I was that wet, as was my Australian friend. We started to run, as did everyone else, but the wind and the bucket of water continued to hit us from behind.

Blimey, I’ve truly never known rain like it.

We ran towards the station, the wind and rain pushing us all the way, crossed the line and leapt under the awning covering platform one. Phew! Then along with everyone else, we piled into the station building to wait out the deluge.

Inside, it was a tight fit – a whole train full of people were inside the station. Some were not happy, some were laughing, some were simply resigned. My Australian friend struck up a conversation with a lady who was ringing out her skirt. Yes, it had been so wet, that water was now pouring onto the floor. It turned out that they were tourists, and were slightly surprised at the weather conditions. Weren’t we all? Another couple then joined in. Apparently, they wintered here every year, and had never seen weather like it in Portugal. To be honest, nor had I.

Of course, being wet through made everything a bit awkward – the taxi journey once the rain had subsided, then hiring the car. Yes, a wet butt makes everything rather uncomfortable, and people tend not to want someone with a wet butt getting into their cars, but we managed.

Suffice to say, this experience made me appreciate what other parts of the country have been through, and made me glad that I’m based in Fuzeta. Here, I think that water tends to run off into the Ria Formosa and then into the open sea.

We’re lucky, I think.

Anyway, after thirteen storms, I think we’ve had enough now… please…