retiredmartin

March 2024. Setubal.

A second day in Setubal, and a 15 minute hovercraft trip across the Sado to the Troia peninsual,

home to (closed) casinos,

sandy beaches,

and cats.

That was practically the only life we saw, bar a school of dolphins. What they were being taught I never found out.

Back in Setubal, I set off in search of the only craft bar that was open, Untappd favourite Capt. Tap having decided to coincide their annual holiday with my visit.

A fascinating slog through the suburbs, passing Vitoria Setubal’s impressive stadium.

You remember Vitoria, they knocked Liverpool out of Europe in 1969,

but have since plummeted into the fourth tier of the Portuguese football, in what we call “a reverse Luton”.

I’m glad I didn’t make Mrs RM walk the 2 miles to the edge of town, as Skal was firmly closed despite all indications to the contrary,

but at least that made me feel at home. To be honest the Facebook page wasn’t particularly promising, anyway.

Across the road, some craft redemption came at the tennis club,

where I succumbed to the sole craft offer.

Back in town, a last rummage through the back streets reveals the most attractive cafe,

Ice cream, cups of tea, no beer.

Like Setubal, almost perfect. But not quite.