As I'm writing this, I'm still on holiday in Portugal. So I imagine this won't be the most profound of posts. I've had multiple flavoured mojitos throughout the day, and one weird caramelised onion and honey pizza that wasn’t worth the calories. But it's late, and everyone is sleeping, which makes it the perfect time for my neurospicy brain to slow down enough to reflect on the day and type how I'm feeling.

(I'm also finding it difficult to whittle down what I say, and also not using dashes within my writing so people don't think I'm using AI. Granted, if AI were to type out in the manner that I do, I think the supercomputer running the model would need turning off and on again...)

I'm here in the Algarve with my parents. The first time here with them was almost 30 years ago. Same region, Galé. Same walks. Same skies. Same beaches. A familiarity that I crave more as I get older because it brings me comfort.

My dad didn’t want any more holidays abroad. He’s getting a little anxious about the hassle, especially airports, but if there’s anything I’m great at, it’s navigating the ins and outs of holidays and guilt-tripping people to come away with me.

It’s worth mentioning that it’s not the holiday I focus on. I could be anywhere. It’s the time with my parents that I relish. It’s probably, actually no, it is where my anxiety comes into play. More so since the pandemic, I’ve worried about losing my parents. I want to create as many happy memories as I can, for them and for myself.

When I was a kid, we came to the Algarve a handful of times. Since then, I’ve been back to Portugal more times than I can remember. That’s not me bragging. I’m still pretty damn poor and make terrible financial decisions. But if there’s one place that represents my soul, it’s here.

After a ridiculously early rise, a long day of travel, and so. much. walking. I still needed to get to the place I feel is my heaven on earth. Salgados Beach.

Whenever I have to get a needle at the doctor’s, I close my eyes and think of here. Whenever I’ve had an utterly shite day at work, I think of here. I think of being a little kid on the beach with my parents. I’ve brought them here multiple times since I was a child. Brought my younger brother. Brought friends. They all know what this place means to me.

It grounds me in a world where my mind never stops.

Walking across the wooden boardwalk from the road to the sand, I could cry from a place that’s beyond happiness. It’s easy to be happy. This place makes me feel content. Here with my parents, I'm content.

Such a rarity for me.