My Holiday in Portugal: Reflection on All the Ups and Downs

Now I know, from this title, it sounds like I’m writing about a classic family holiday. I am... until the day we went to the beach. I was unleashing my inner daredevil side - to a point of life or death.

It was the summer holidays of 2017. My mum, my two brothers and I decided to have a well deserved break in Portugal. We adventured to an exotic, quite dainty little town called Sagres - which is located at the very bottom of Portugal, along the coast of the Atlantic Ocean. With a population of about 1,900 people, Sagres is a reserved town, with not a lot to do - apart from lounging in the sun or swimming in the pool. Both of these are relaxing things to do, but not for nine days.

We were about halfway through our holiday, when we all agreed to go to the beach. We imagined beautiful golden sand, glistening from the sunlight and angelic turquoise water, gleaming. It was all of that and more - with stunning cliffs, suspended over our bewildered bodies, and the sound of waves crashing against the serrated rocks.

It was at that moment when my brothers and I noticed a red flag, quite far away but close enough to work out what it said. ‘Danger of death’ it read. We didn’t think much of it, and continued to head towards the water. My mum was setting up our towels in a spot where she could keep an eye on us. The time was about midday, with the sun at the hottest period of the day. The beach wasn’t too busy, around about 50 people. The tide was starting to come in, therefor, the waves were slowly getting larger,larger and larger. My brothers and I were having such an enjoyable time, splashing and jumping about in the waves, and there was absolutely nothing to be alarmed about. I can’t remember every single detail, but I can recall having my back turned from the water, trying to find my mum in the crowd of people.

Next thing I knew, I heard high pitched screaming coming from every angle of the water. I turned back towards the water to see what all the screaming was about, when all of a sudden, there is this wave twice the size of me, approaching me. I couldn’t feel the sensation of the Portuguese sun rays against my back anymore as the wave came towering over me, quite like the cliffs on the beach. I didn’t have time to swim away, as the wave was coming towards me at a speed I could never do. It came crashing down on top of me, sending me straight down towards the ground. The force of the water felt as strong as a hydraulic press. The crisp blue sky had disappeared into complete darkness, as I submerged under. All I could feel were tiny, blade like pieces, against my chest, which I presume was the seabed.

It was horrible - the sand was going in my ears, nose and mouth. At one point, I thought I was going to end up being buried alive. It all happened in about 10 seconds, though it felt like it was 10 minutes. Light started to appear again, and before i knew it, I emerged back up to the shore, where I could see the crisp blue sky again, and feel the strong portuguese sun.

I felt like I had entered a new world, where everything was alarming yet calm. It was a strange feeling. The only way I can describe it is, I felt a strong feeling of relief and happiness that it was all over while also feeling traumatized and terrified about what just happened. My brothers, luckily, were too far out for the wave to tip over, and experienced nothing but an enjoyable natural wave machine.

Nobody seemed to be interested with what had just occurred, and just carried on with their day. While my mum was frantically running towards me with a medic. He checked over me and cleaned up my cuts. At this point, people seemed to be a little more intrigued.

We went back to our villa and didn’t talk about it for the rest of the day, as I was trying to forget about it and carry on with my holiday. I was still shaking five hours later and kept experiencing flashbacks. I know it might sound a little bit stupid, but I honestly thought I would never see light again.

I still have a few scars that I was given on that day, from the sharp sand. Whenever I look at them, I am given a strong feeling of drowning. I can’t even look at a picture of a wave without getting some sort of flashback. But with the fear, I also have a feeling of achievement. I survived a potential drowning - and I feel as if that is something to be achieved.

I wouldn’t say that I will never go in the ocean again. In fact, I have been to Portugal since then, but only got as far as dipping my feet into the water. I have learnt my lesson from that experience and grown from it to never ignore the flags and always think about what I am doing, and if it is safe. I just hope that others don’t make the same mistake as I did - as they might not be as lucky.