Half term in the Algarve, yet again – trip report by Froggee (paterfamilias)

[Froggee]

I read an article a while ago on Flyertalk which could be summarised thusly:

holidays are stressful as they are full of new things which human bodies are not really made to deal with because, in the wild, new things are invariably deadly.

This resonated with me. So for October half term it was back to Martinhal Sagres for a week. Followed by three nights at Aquashow Park Hotel. Simples. No surprises. No stress. No Olympics. No family. Apart from my own. Pollen season over. No unbearably hot weather. No early starts or late nights. A comfort holiday if you will. Because the various low-cost carriers seemed to think that the one and only time to fly from Edinburgh is 6am or, if you are lucky, 7pm, we were flying to Faro with British Airways with a night at the Sofitel at Terminal 5 in between the flights. 66,000 Avios and £400 got us four tickets in Club Europe which was not much different to Jet2 as Jet2 really knows how to charge during the school holidays.

We had all Friday to pack but I really wasn’t feeling it so I ended up in a bit of a rush. But Mrs Froggee was all over packing and had arranged to go to school to pick up the boys’ violins (both having orchestra that morning). Freddo has grade 3 coming up and he needs to practice. Kermit’s violin was to be brought along for fairness. Although Kermit really needs to practice also. Obviously neither boy had left their violin in the music building as instructed. However, Mrs Froggee seems to have ingratiated herself with the faculty staff so a call from the music school receptionist to the junior school resulted in the receptionists there retrieving two violins in the time it took Mrs Froggee to walk over. Well played Mrs Froggee

We picked the boys up from school, and they got changed into their civvies in the back of the car. Freddo had many questions. There was a surprising lack of traffic and I was worried at one point that we might end up arriving at the car park before the earliest permissible time of 4pm for my 6pm booking. Some temporary traffic lights saved the day and we arrived at Fastpark at 4:03pm. It had cost a wholly unreasonable £80.99 but there was no other choice given the need to collect the boys from school and it was actually the cheapest of the available options as I imagine they pay very little for the muddy field all the cars are left in.

We successfully ditched the car and headed for check-in to drop our two suitcases. When we joined the queue, they were calling for bags for the bang-on-time 5:30pm flight so we could have made it but I had opted to avoid a squeaky bum by booking us on the 6:20pm. Which was obviously late. Amusingly the fellow in front of us had a very large duffle bag. He walked up to the agent and said “I got an email from British Airways inviting to check in my hand luggage”. The response, and I quote, was “but that’s a hold bag, £75 please”. The chancer did not bat an eyelid and got his credit card out.

As our luggage entitlement was eight bags, the agent had to improvise with us. I was told that because our connection was more than 12 hours, our luggage would not be through-checked and we had to collect it at T5. I put on my confused face and asked if this was new. “No it’s always been like this” lied the agent. I asked if it might be possible to double check but the system said no so he was not going to double check. Balls.

I had been particularly looking forward to not dragging our luggage around, almost as much as not having to wait an eternity for it, as I had destroyed my knees by excavating a 40kg or so lump of concrete from our back garden after the metal anchor linking it with the leg of a swing had snapped. Like the Spanish Inquisition British Airways’ chief weapon is surprise. I am sure if we had desperately needed the contents of our suitcases and asked to get them back at Heathrow we would have been told “not a chance”.

At Security both of our rucksacks were selected for secondary screening for reasons only the X-ray machine operator will ever know. The boys decided to play a game that involved trying to push each other off a bench while we waited. I threatened to cancel screen time. We made it to the lounge and had a sort of dinner. Mrs Froggee accidentally filled Kermit’s water bottle with sparkling water. He was not amused. I refilled it. Somebody kept letting off stinky farts but both boys denied it. It was not me but no way in hell was I going to accuse Mrs Froggee. Freddo kept bouncing around, informing us that flights other than ours were leaving. He then settled down with his iPad and, weirdly, missed the fact that our flight was leaving. We all went to make peepee and Kermit insisted on topping up his own water bottle.

We went to the gate where Kermit admitted that he had also taken sparkling water in error. We went to refill his bottle which at least killed a couple of minutes. Boarding was swift. The cabin crew were lovely and promised the world to those who were going to miss their connections. Hotels, ground transport, expedited flight connections, private jets. British Airways will look after you. Okay, I lied about the private jets but then the cabin crew were probably lying too.

The member of cabin crew checking on seatbelts was a hoot. Kermit got a “Classic Scooby Doo – now that’s respect”. Mrs Froggee also received approval for The Boy and the Heron. Freddo was doing puzzles and I was typing this so we received no praise. I almost wished I had been watching Faster Pussycat! Kill! Kill! to see if our guy was a fan of Russ Meyer. Both boys desperately needed to pee once the seatbelt sign was switched off. I do not understand how they have such limited ability to control their bladders. Later it transpired that Kermit had actually desperately needed to poo so we now know who had been letting off depth charges in the lounge. I had preordered the boys a kids meal and, yet again, I can only conclude that Do&Co have never encountered real life children. A few bits of bland chicken, some rolled up Emmental, one tomato cut in half and two cucumber sticks just doesn’t cut it. Kermit ate the bread roll. He bravely tried the dessert which looked like cat sick and unsurprisingly did not like it.

We landed at 8:20pm which could have been worse but that is approaching Freddo’s bedtime. After some consultation, Mrs Froggee and Kermit turned left to retrieve the bags and Freddo and I exited stage right. There was no queue for check-in at the Sofitel but more importantly the sweet shop was still open. I have made a critical error on the sweet shop once before so we popped in to ask how long the sweet shop would be open for before checking in. The lady there remembered us from our last visit. I am sure it was because we are so nice and not because we are totally annoying.

Yet again the Sofitel provided us with a double upgrade to connecting king and twin luxury rooms (from the two twin rooms I had booked for £397.10 including breakfast) and provided four drinks vouchers. Accor Gold is very worthwhile. We went to the sweet shop where Freddo chose his own pick and mix. I called Mrs Froggee who put Kermit on and I was delighted that, with no nonsense, he requested cola drops and sour apple drops. Job well done. We went to the room and Freddo showered while I attempted to find his pyjamas which Mrs Froggee had chosen to disperse randomly in the hand luggage. I had only found his T-shirt but not his shorts when Mrs Froggee and Kermit made it to reception. Giving Freddo more credit than I should have done, I left him in the room for all of two minutes (with his permission) while I retrieved the other half of the family. We returned to find Freddo having an existential crisis. Mrs Froggee resolved this with a hug and a story and he was out for the count.

Of note was, yet again, two bars of James Cadbury chocolate as a welcome amenity and two courtesy minibars fit for a Scotsman containing, in total, four Coors, two miniatures of Jack Daniel’s, two miniatures of Famous Grouse, four cokes, four diet cokes, three apple juices, one orange juice, four sparkling and four still waters.

Kermit sat and read in our room before being banished as Mrs Froggee wanted to go to sleep. Kermit went next door and promptly woke up Freddo. I adjudicated by telling them to be quiet and SWITCH OFF YOUR LIGHT KERMIT.

Mrs Froggee had decided to be allergic to something that day and had left the Vicks VapoRub in the boys’ room so I got to enjoy her snoring like a French pig that night. I was awoken multiple times by snorts and snores but was sound asleep when the boys kicked off at 7am. I made it back to sleep in time for my alarm to finish the job at 7:20am.

Breakfast at the Sofitel was okay. The porridge remains the worst I have ever had but is palatable augmented with nuts, seeds, dried fruit, and sliced banana. Cooked breakfast was acceptable. Chocolate pastries were yummy. Kermit decided to get an early complaint in about us having to check our bags again so I decided I would go and ditch the bags first. Having carefully considered the moral position and weighing up the fact that I had not used any of the drinks vouchers or otherwise touched the minibar except for a stocktake, I decided I could live with myself if I stole the two Jack Daniel’s so they got popped in one of the suitcases. JD and coke is up there with dark ‘n’ stormies as a holiday drink.

Obviously, I went down to Arrivals first because I am an idiot. When I made it to Departures, I found that Club bag drop was “broken”. I joined a backed-up queue and noting the lady in charge’s Singaporean accent had a brief conversation with her until it was ended when a German started to berate her for British Airways’ ineptitude.

Some of the lanes started working again but not mine. I missed the initial burst of people jumping to the working lanes but went in the second wave and got rid of the bags. I almost made a fatal error as I had popped the pouch with all the passports and boarding passes in the front compartment of one of the suitcases to keep both hands free for dragging them. I took the pouch out to retrieve my boarding pass and passport. Without thinking, I put the pouch back in the case. As I was zipping it up, I suddenly realised my idiocy. Retrieving the pouch containing my wife and children’s boarding passes and passports, I got a sick feeling in my stomach as I contemplated telling my loved ones that we could not go on holiday as daddy had won idiot of the year 2024. The people who had been in front of me in my original queue were still second in line as I departed so at least I did one thing right.

I went back to the Sofitel to find Mrs Froggee’s frustration levels high and the boys’ behaviour poor. Given that Loungebird said the British Airways lounges were crowded I figured we would be as well off staying in civilisation for a bit. We left the Sofitel about an hour and a half before our flight. Obviously, Club bag drop was working seamlessly again as we passed by it. Fast track security actually was fast and we avoided any secondary checks. Which meant we got to spend more than enough time in Galleries North. Flightstats was not showing a gate so I figured we should stay put in the A terminal. It was pretty rammed but we got the four seats lined up against the wall near the entrance which did for half an hour or so. We filled our water bottles, except for Kermit’s, as it turned out he had left it on the prior night’s flight. Well done Kermit – £20 burnt. The boys discovered Nice biscuits which were an integral part of my childhood. I don’t remember them being in the lounge before? Kermit spent most of his lounge time in the toilet which was excellent on two levels as firstly he was banishing the demon within him and secondly it meant he was not complaining at us.

A7 was our gate and Mrs Froggee bought an emergency simply ham sandwich from Pret A Manger on the way. She then bought two books for Kermit at WH Smith because, shopping. We timed things pretty well and got to enjoy the preboarding announcement where groups 4-9 were commanded to gate check their wheeled cases now as they would all be removed later anyway. This strategy worked as boarding was completed two minutes before the scheduled departure time of 11:50am with no need for the cabin crew to rearrange bags. We obviously then got to sit around for a bit before taxiing to, I’m guessing, Gatwick airport before eventually taking off.

I had again ordered kids meals which this time featured chicken schnitzel that the boys tolerated and a coconut mousse dessert which went down less well. Mrs Froggee and I both had trout which was good and would have made a lovely starter in terms of portion size. The cappuccino mousse brought back memories of the 1980s when angel delight was a staple. Otherwise, all good. The flight was almost on time and we got to enjoy a jetway and a barren immigration hall. By all accounts you can wait an hour at Faro if you land between 9am and 10am so this is another perk of the British Airways’ flight at civilised o’clock. Our bags came unfeasibly quickly and we were off. Kermit looked confused as he frantically disabled complain mode.

Our driver from Yellowfish Transfers (prebooked for €141) was helping a poor lady whose hotel had booked her a car for the wrong day but once she was sorted we were off to Martinhal. It was a long drive, partly because it took 80 minutes, but mainly because Freddo did not fall asleep. I think I must have bonded with our driver as by the end of the journey, he told me that many years ago his now in-laws had offered him money to leave his then pregnant girlfriend, and never come back. I tipped €10.

Our welcome at Martinhal was warm and we were straight into holiday mode. Our week in a two-bedroom resort view ocean house was €2,131.92. Nothing much happened, just how I like it. The weather was terrible on the Tuesday but that was the only bad day and I did not grudge the Algarve the 24mm of rain. Mrs Froggee had wisely booked the boys in for three swimming lessons and three tennis lessons to offer some structure. Kids club would have been better but Kermit and Freddo have a kids club phobia. Apparently, there was one single kid at kids club who Mrs Froggee saw being led into the woods by a member of staff. That sort of thing can scar you for life.

Mrs Froggee seemed happy enough to sit by the pool while the boys either improved their swimming or tried to kill each other and I was even happier to sit on the balcony and listen to the construction noise from a Villa being built. I would have preferred if there had not been a building site opposite but then the builders probably would have preferred it if the boys had not practiced their violins.

Freddo scratched his face which we were delighted to take as the designated holiday head injury. Kermit somehow managed to staple his finger drawing blood and Kermit’s ire as if his beloved stapler had somehow turned on him. I told Kermit how proud I was of him. The next day when I said I was looking forward to telling his friends about this, Kermit said he had communicated the incident via Google slides and had already received seven “congrats”.

Freddo and I played mini golf and he huffed much less than last time. The cleaners kept leaving us extra toilet rolls which I put in the wardrobe resulting in them leaving us even more toilet rolls. Maybe they had heard of Kermit’s reputation?

That was it really. A week later we checked out having spent an additional €1,844.50 on tennis lessons, swimming lessons, four breakfasts, three lunches, seven dinners, a bunch of ice creams and food from el mercado to fill in the gaps.

Our driver from Yellowfish was one minute early and we were off to Aquashow Park Hotel (€106 for the transfer). Obviously, I had lied and told the boys that we were going home to improve the chance of them sleeping that night. I told the driver this and he found it most amusing. Again, Freddo did not nap so the 80-minute drive felt much longer. By the end of the journey our driver was telling me how he had almost destroyed his liver taking various drugs and supplements to aid weightlifting. He was now clean but had dropped 23kg since peak muscles. He seemed very happy with a €10 tip.

Needless to say, the driver enjoyed the boys’ reaction when we pulled up to Aquashow Park Hotel and I said “Sir, this isn’t the airport!” We checked in at midday but they were happy to give us the keys to our “family room” which is two connecting rooms for which I had paid €619.84 including breakfast. This time, one of the rooms had the single beds joined together to create a king which was a big improvement. Bar lunch was €44. After some statutory screen time we went to the indoor water park for its final two hours of opening which cost €85 with a 15% discount for hotel guests.

I had managed to cultivate half a migraine so only went on one ride which was more than enough. Unsurprisingly the indoor park is considerably smaller than the outdoor park but I was again impressed at the organisation. The whole place is incredibly clean. There are staff everywhere who, in the main, are young but very professional. Kermit was politely ejected from the under 8s area that he had “strayed” into. There are four water slides of varying degrees of unpleasantness. There was a mini wave pool, three areas for younger kids, a “relaxation” pool, a spa for Mrs Froggee and an adventure pool with rings to swing across, a rope web to try and traverse under, and a climbing wall where failure resulted in a sudden plunge and success resulted in a controlled plunge. Two hours was probably the right length of visit.

Dinner was a surprisingly good buffet at the hotel which cost €75 for the four of us plus €5.20 for 1.5 litres of water and a small beer. The next couple of days were pretty much identical. Water park morning, junk food lunch, screen time and mini golf in the afternoon, €80.20 buffet dinner in the evening. Both days Mrs Froggee very kindly let me take the boys to the water park while she held the fort at the hotel which reduced the cost of admission to €59.50. The park was quiet so the boys got a lot in. I tried the Tornado once which genuinely made me feel like I was going to be sick. It certainly did not help that I went backwards but along with a fear of heights I appear to have developed motion sickness in later life.

Having abjectly failed at the rings on the first afternoon I managed to get halfway across when they were dry. Kermit was similar to me whereas Freddo, the little monkey, could actually complete them. I successfully navigated the climbing wall which, it turned out, nobody cared about. I managed about one third of the rope thing (when it was dry) which was about as far as I saw anyone do. It was evil. My second attempt saw me fail to even hold on resulting in a friction burn on my left hand. Kermit only had so many Tornadoes in him as, in my absence, he faced backwards and started to feel sick. On the final day, the boys met Matthew who briefly adopted them. Matthew did not mind going backwards down the Tornado but had to get back to his wee daughter who he had left with a friend. My arms and shoulders ached from attempting to do physical challenges. Freddo was like the energiser bunny until he wasn’t, flaking out both evenings and becoming grumpiness personified.

After six hours of water park, Kermit had definitely had enough although Freddo was still wanting to keep going. Aquashow indoor park was certainly worth a visit but probably not for three days in a row. If I could have my time again, I would have spent an extra day at Martinhal and a day less at Aquashow.

Coming home, the Irish scratch card operator very kindly laid on a flight at 2:25pm which I had snagged for a bargain €459.44 including two hold bags and one carry on as most of the Edinburgh schools were back and who wants to fly on a Tuesday? One last game of mini golf made much more hazardous by swarms of tiny little mosquitoes that apparently did not do afternoons and we were picked up by the same driver who had collected us from the airport. He was confused how we had relocated from Martinhal to Aquashow. Daniel took us said I. The drive to the airport only took 20 minutes and cost €32. Plus a €10 tip because I had felt a tad cheap the first time. The airport experience was considerably less quick than I had hoped for. It took about half an hour to check our suitcases. With hindsight the much longer self-drop queue would have been quicker than the manned queues given self-drop was empty when we emerged. Security took about ten minutes and Immigration took 15. As always Kermit was incredibly aggrieved by Immigration. I decided to reward his grumpiness by not even letting him have a book to read.

We made it to the CIP lounge at 1:20pm which gave us just enough time for a hurried lunch. And yes they still have a pancake machine. I made a strategic error in befriending an elderly Irishman in the toilets. He could not get his tap to work and was delighted to be told it was knackered and it was not him being dumb. Once outside the toilets he was even more delighted to discover that we had both been in the Stade de France to see Ireland humble Scotland in the rugby World Cup. As we talked rugby, I started to see my prospects of lunch dissipate but thankfully he had to go get his plane and I was able to eat.

It was soon our turn to board. Mrs Froggee ran off in a panic to secure supplies from everyone’s favourite continental baker, Paul. I lost precious seconds giving chase to thrust her and the boys’ passports and boarding passes at her which resulted in me missing my rightful bus and having to board with non-priority passengers including my own kin. As first on the second bus, I was last off. The gang had not seen me and apparently the boys engaged panic mode when daddy was not waiting for them on the plane. Whilst standing on the steps I received a text message inquiring where I was. With a small heavy bag in one hand and a wheeled case in the other I managed to use my nose to select dictate on my watch and explained to Mrs Froggee that I had been on the same sh1tty bus as her and was now on the steps because she ran off without the passports. Grumpy? Moi? Never.

I think it was possibly the best Ryanair flight I have ever taken. The crew were nice. There were no stag or hen parties. Literally nobody stood in the aisle talking to friends. There were a lot of young kids but I guess, like mine, they had all been issued with iPads. A nice fellow called Grant was directly behind Freddo. Grant was obviously one to grab a bull by the horns as, despite being warned off by Mrs Froggee, he engaged Freddo in conversation. I think Grant was relieved when Freddo received his iPad and headphones.

There had been little in the lounge Freddo could eat as he is having myriad issues with his teeth that have Edinburgh’s orthodontists salivating. He currently looks like a bottle opener as the stubs of his front teeth grow in. And various other teeth are either sprouting crookedly or preparing to topple. We figured we would get him some fries to sustain him (which meant Kermit was to get fries too) but Ryanair were sold out. We therefore risked a lasagne which cost €8.50. A tea for Mrs Froggee rounded this up to €12. I think the cabin crew might have been attempting nuclear fusion given the lasagne’s temperature so I spent about half an hour blowing on forkfuls of it and feeding them to Freddo. No way was I letting Freddo feed himself given the propensity that kid has to wear any food that stains. Freddo likes lasagne but not béchamel sauce so I had to scrape it off and then present each forkful upside down in case he noticed any remaining white sauce. The things parents do. I was surprised that Freddo almost finished the lasagne before declaring himself “full”. I read the list of ingredients on the box and was pleasantly surprised how plausible they were. Five minutes later Freddo asked Mrs Froggee for a pastel de nata. Kermit had apparently asked for a pastel de nata at Paul also but aggressively staked his claim to a pain au chocolat. I had not asked for anything from Paul and was too proud to ask for the unclaimed pain au raisin. Obviously, Mrs Froggee did not think to offer it to me as she was too busy sleeping or watching tv to worry about her husband.

A bit less than an hour before landing I declared it peepee time. We were in row 26 so Freddo bolted towards the front where there was a queue. I went to the back where there was not but felt bad so came back, told Mrs Froggee Freddo was an idiot, waved at him and duly escorted Freddo to the rear of the plane. Kermit stayed put in the window seat and only decided that it might be a good plan to pee once both Freddo and I had sat back down. To Ryanair’s credit, the fight touched down on schedule at exactly 5:45pm. And the plane dropped us next to Immigration so no bus. Immigration was busy but we were through in 15 minutes and beat our bags to the luggage belt by all of a minute. I was initially confused on arriving at M&S Simply Food before realising that they had decided to enhance my experience by closing for refurbishment. My car was present and undamaged and I was delighted not to be charged any extra for parking courtesy of the grace periods on either side of the booking. We drove to McDonalds and I spent £21.25 on a final holiday “dinner”. We arrived home at a sensible time, got the heating cranked up and all was well.

See? No stress. Simples.

A couple of days after arriving home I came down with the lurgy which weirdly nobody else got. I can only assume that my body now associates holidays so strongly with illness that it did this on purpose.

The end.

[freckles]

Alas, I think M&S is closed permanently and is being refurbished into Sainsbury’s – at least it will offer some Avios opportunities 🤣

[yorkshireRich]

Some things you just have fond memories of, and the
m@s is one of them.

A quick few things re the report. It’s not any order. Infact having proof read my post, it’s actually quite impressively in reverse.

How much for Tennis lessons? I begrudge paying a fiver to take my daughter to swimm. When I say swim, I mean jump off the edge of the pool and wave to the lifeguards before shouting “go go go”.

I really don’t mind Ryanair. They are like that local pub that has decent beer. You know what you are getting.

I don’t think I’ve ever been in Galleries North. I’ve spent many time in the Wetherspoons and Galleries South and 5B but never ever Galleries North.

The Sofitel is a hotel that I do want to visit one day before it really is outdated.

As for the man with £75. A fool and his money ey?

Finally I congratulate you on a simple holiday. I’m 35, and I think this sounds like heaven as I cba with the stress and drama anymore. Off to research the algarve now.

[The Savage Squirrel]

‘banishing the demon within him‘. 😆

Thanks Froggee! Bravo. Two rounds of Aquashow ranks as above and beyond in terms of parental duties.

[ed_fly]

Thanks for the trip report, a fun read as usual. Following your recommendation we had a stay at Martinhal earlier this year, our two bed ocean view house, we also had a ‘construction’ view as well. It’s delightfully easy, staff are great, views fantastic and our kids loved the ice cream ‘guy’ at the village square. Totally understand why you return.

[Froggee]

@freckles – Mrs Froggee did not take your news well.

@yorkshireRich – tennis lessons were €22 each for 50 minutes in a small group. It worked well as they made friends there.

Swimming was €75 each for a block of three half-hour 1:1 lessons. The boys are both good swimmers but she made them work!

Ryanair – the difference between the Irish scratch card operator and my local pub is that if I took my kids for a pub lunch and there were a bunch of poorly behaved customers that the landlord failed to control then we would leave. Ryanair – you are stuck!

Embrace the Algarve while your baby is still a baby as once you are tied into school holidays, it is scary. E.g. Martinhal will sell the Villa we had for less than €250 a night in May when the weather will be great. We paid €300 courtesy of Scottish school holidays. It is more like €500 if you are English (educated) and peak weeks in the summer are currently going for €600+

@ed_fly – I’ll get in touch with them and ask for my commission…

[Misty]

Another great trip report. We went to the Algavre three times when are kids were youngish, stayed in Praia de Luz, Tavira and Lagos, had great holidays in all of them.

Fond memories of going to the most westerly point in Europe and hoping the kids didn’t fall of the edge, also ate in a strange restaurant in Vila de Bipso a few times, normally us and lots of builders, and an even stranger one in a sort of no mans land going westwards along the coast, that hosted a huge amount of stuffed animals in one corner, big animals bears etc. it was quite bizarre. Don’t know what that was about, but I hope it’s still there.

[AJA]

I watched your Ryanair plane fly overhead while drinking a beer and consuming some tempura prawns in a cafe by the marina in downtown Faro.

My 6 days (should’ve been 8 but thanks BA for cancelling two days in a row) in Faro were slightly less expensive. And given the compensation for at least one cancellation I am due will be even cheaper. I even found a very cheap ‘n cheerful place called Mister Frango which served up olives and bread to start, a half chicken and chips x2, a Sagres beer, 1.5l of still water, two scoops of ice cream and a crema catalana and a delightful double espresso for the princely sum of €25 including €3 tip.

I enjoyed Faro so can understand why you choose to go there. Very pleasant place. Great weather too. The Hotel Faro and Beach Club where I stayed was in a great position by the marina but wasn’t really the 4 stars they claim. Still very comfortable and decent breakfast included for £1.2k for 7 nights for 2 people even though I only was there 5 nights.