Spritz yourself with magic

I’m not going to lie, when I had to make a sudden halt to my nomadic life last year, due to my dad’s health issues, it hit me hard mentally.

And I’m not just talking about the sorrow and anxiety over potentially losing one of my closest people. I also experienced a creeping sense of gloom.

I’d become so unhappy living in the UK prior to leaving in 2023. Ever since the pandemic my life there had felt like a relationship deep in its death throes - restrictive and heavy and with nothing left to offer each other. Leaving to live as a nomad while I wrote my books filled me with a freedom I’d never experienced before.

And I also felt full to the brim with the joy and release that comes from realising that you’re finally living the way you were born to - or rather, the way you were born to in that particular chapter. I’d previously loved my years of being a mama and building my career - but travelling was a dream I’d coveted since being a teen.

Finally getting to do it felt so right and then, suddenly, it was over.

Finding my dad collapsed on his apartment floor last November was one of the most awful things I’ve ever experienced. I truly thought we were about to lose him. So I’ve given thanks every day since, and I see each of my weekly visits to him as some kind of bonus gift.

So don’t get me wrong - I’m not complaining about this shock life twist. But the part of me that feels trapped by life in the UK has been chomping at the bit to travel again.

In April, when I was able to travel for the first time in over four months - going to Ukraine to do some research for a book - I felt nothing short of euphoric to be ‘on the road’ again.

I’d become so used to my nomadic lifestyle. Things like writing my novel-in-progress in an airport Departures Lounge and hand-washing my underwear in budget hotel bathrooms - and having to hang it to dry in random places, like on a bedside lampshade (!) - had become so normal to me, it felt wonderful to return to that way of being, albeit temporarily.

So I’ve been overjoyed to be able to get away again this week - for a very short trip - travelling to Portugal to speak at a Literary Cafe in Cascais near Lisbon.

Cascais Literary Cafe

As I’m only here for three full days I was determined to make the most of every minute, taking the opportunity to meet up with the friends I made here during my nomad days and visiting certain scenes from my recently released novel, The Lost Story of Sofia Castello, which is set in Portugal.

My original plan had been to spend at least a month here at the end of last year while writing the book, but then my dad was taken ill, so I had to rely on my memories from previous trips, plus plenty of research reading and of course good old Google.

This week I’ve been lucky enough to finally get to visit two places that feature in the novel for the first time.

One is the magical town of Sintra up in the mountains outside Lisbon.

with my friend Alexandre in Sintra

During World War 2 there was an airfield in Sintra where people were able to fly to Britain - something that was impossible to do in the rest of Nazi-occupied Europe - so it was frequently used by spies for the Allies and soldiers who were trying to evade capture by the Germans.

But because Portugal was neutral during the war you would also find German planes using the airfield in Sintra - quite a menacing sight for those flying to the UK!

The fact that Portugal was such a melting pot of spies from all sides, as well as thousands of European refugees, is one of the main reasons I wanted to write a historical novel set here.

And one of the most fascinating places I read about during my research was the Hotel Palacio in Estoril, near Cascais, where I’m staying, which became a hotbed of spies - including James Bond creator, Ian Fleming - wealthy Jewish refugees, and exiled royalty during the war.

I tried to visit Estoril with my American author friend Linda Joy Myers (who you can find on Substack here) when we both happened to be in Lisbon last summer. But she made the mistake of putting me in charge of planning the train journey, so let’s just say we didn’t end up there!

This time, as I was staying so close by, I felt fairly confident that I couldn’t mess up. And thankfully one of my lovely Portuguese friends, Rosaria Casquinha da Silva, also an author, took me on a walk along the coast there.

When we got to the Hotel Palacio we decided to pop into the reception and sneak a quick look.

The grand interior, with its marble floors, high ceilings and huge chandeliers was even more opulent than I’d imagined and I felt a tad self conscious in my t-shirt and tracksuit bottoms!

But once inside, Rosaria strode over to the desk and started chatting away in Portuguese.

As I only know the essentials in Portuguese (hello, coffee, please, thank you, ‘I’m sorry, I’m English’, and of course, pastel de nata) I didn’t have a clue what she was saying, but when she turned back to face me with a huge grin on her face, I knew it had to be something good.

Rosaria steered me over to one of the plush sofas in the lobby and informed me that, when she’d told the man on the desk I’d just written a book featuring the hotel, he said he’d ask the head concierge, Jose Diogo, to give us a tour.

Jose, it turns out, is a bit of a legend. He’s worked at the Palacio for a grand total of 61 years, ever since he was 14, and he knows everything there is to know about the hotel and its history.

What then followed was the most magical hour or so, as he regaled us with tales of royalty, spies, intrigue and of course, James Bond.

with Jose and Rosaria at the hotel entrance

Ian Fleming stayed at the Palacio in 1941, when he was a British naval intelligence officer, tasked with overseeing the activities of a Yugoslav double agent named Dusan Popov, who also stayed at the Palacio and is thought to have been the inspiration for the character of Bond.

Years later, some scenes from the Bond movie On Her Majesty’s Secret Service were filmed at the Palacio and Jose, who was 19 by then, made it into the film as an extra, seen handing Bond his room key!

On our impromptu tour Jose took us into the hotel’s Estoril Bar, which has hardly changed at all since the war, when spies from both sides used to mingle there. As a funny aside, whenever people in Lisbon wanted to know which side was faring better on the battlefield they’d ring the Estoril Bar and ask which nationality was ordering champagne that night!

While I was there I got to sit in the very same seat as Fleming when he was talking to Popov, while Jose served me a pretend vodka martini, shaken not stirred obviously.

shaken not stirred, obviously

The whole experience felt like a dream, and it was so surreal to be in a place that I’d spent so much time imagining, when writing the scenes set there for The Lost Story of Sofia Castello.

Every so often Rosaria and I would shoot each other glances, as if to say ‘I can’t believe this is happening! Can you believe this is happening?!’

We eventually tumbled out of the hotel giddy with excitement at our unexpected adventure. As we walked back to Cascais to get lunch we talked about how magical it had been to meet Jose, and how charmed and inspired we’d both been by his obvious passion for his job.

After lunching by the sea in a wonderful cafe called Joyeux, which is staffed by people with learning disabilities and serves the most delicious home-made pastries, soup and quiche, we wandered up the coast to a rocky outcrop surrounded by the bluest sea called Hell’s Mouth, which is very deceptive because it looked and felt like heaven on earth.

Just as we got there a busker started to sing one of my all-time favourite songs, Imagine, by John Lennon.

As he sang about imagining the world living life in peace, my eyes suddenly filled with tears as I remembered being in Ukraine just a couple of weeks ago and everything the Ukrainian people are having to endure (not to mention the countless other places currently being affected by war).

It was so poignant to get to experience such vivid extremes in such a short space of time - from the pain and fear of a country that’s been invaded and under constant attack - read more here…

Coming alive in the face of death

- to the warmth and peace of Portugal and the beauty of Lennon’s wistful lyrics echoing out across the bright blue ocean.

I’m writing this to you from my hostel lobby, on my last full day in Portugal.

When I return to the UK tomorrow I won’t be able to go away again for a while.

But this trip has taught me something that I think could be useful for anyone who, for whatever reason, isn’t able to realise a dream right now.

And to help demonstrate this lesson I’m going to use perfume as a metaphor.

As you probably know, perfume comes in various different strengths, which are as follows…

• Parfum, which is the strongest, made up of 20-40% fragrance oil, its scent lasting the longest

• Eau de parfum, which contains 15-20% fragrance oil, and lasts for 6-8 hours

• Eau de Toilette, which is 5-15% fragrance oil, and lasts for 3-5 hours

• And Eau de Cologne, which only contains 2-5% fragrance oil, and lasts for 2-4 hours

I’ve concentrated so many magical experiences into my three days here in Portugal that I know the memories will last for a very long time, just like the scent of a Parfum.

Back when I was permanently travelling, I’d often have more of an Eau de Cologne experience of the places I visited, slacking off on seeking out adventure in order to spend a lot of time writing in cafes in order to meet my book deadlines and as a result, many of my memories of these times and places have already faded.

Don’t get me wrong, I still enjoyed my Eau de Cologne times, but I guess what I’m trying to say is this - if you, like most people, aren’t able to live your dream on a full-time basis, is there any way you could carve out the time for some concentrated ‘parfum’ mini dream experiences?

A day, or a half day even, of something so magical and powerful, the memories will linger for a very long time, if not forever?

If you fancy a fun challenge why not try thinking of a parfum experience you could create in the future?

Or, if you’ve already had a parfum experience of your own you’d like to share in the comments, or in a private response to me, I’d love to hear about it.

Life can be tough and overwhelming, and sometimes disappointing, but I really believe it’s still possible to spritz ourselves with magic (and the stronger the better) with the just the right blend of imagination and courage.

Until next week, happy spritzing!

Siobhan

PS: My new novel, set in Portugal, The Lost Story of Sofia Castello, is available in paperback, digital and audio here. Huge thanks to anyone who buys a copy, and I hope the scenes set in Estoril have a little more resonance now you’ve read this post.