Sunday  02.06.19

Peniche

We took this day off from cycling as we had found a very nice and reasonably priced hotel. Took the opportunity to visit the launderette and get rid of many unpleasant smells.

Found an Intermarche and managed to acquire commodities that the little micro markets don't sell.

We enjoyed two fabulous meals in Pedro's restaurant. Am weaning Alan onto fish.

We went for a stroll around the harbour trying and failing to remember Peniche from the rally in 2002. Nothing looked the same. Still, I suppose 17 years is quite a long interval between visits. Only the old citadel walls were familiar.

A good day's relaxation.

Monday  03. 06. 19.

Peniche - Santa Cruz.

The day began with a conversation over breakfast with an American couple, the female half of which was visiting Portugal with some students to teach water colour painting using Porto as the inspiration. We avoided all mention of the Trump!

Feeling clean and fresh we powered off (bit optimistic) and within half a kilometre EV had led us to a dead end! It was our great good fortune to come across a local who, with the aid of much gesticulation, showed us how to re-route.

The weather was cooler but still bright, showing off the local flora in all its vibrant colours. In one such garden, a lady was doing her washing in a concrete sink which seem very popular in this area, particularly in the campsites. Anyway, she was pummeling away and I bid her good day and her face lit up with a beautiful smile which I returned probably less beautifully.

I had made a comment in my little book before we set off on our venture, that this ride was a bit more uppy and downy. Suffice to say I was correct and that will be the end of the matter. At the bottom of one of these hills, was a beautiful small village, Santa Nova was its name and here we lunched with views of crashing waves, a small river, fascinating and somewhat precarious rock formations, and virtually no people.

Thanks to the clever and thoughtful amendments to our route, (all Al's) we arrived at our campsite with time to spare. I use the term campsite loosely, as it was really just row on row of the wierdist caravan and tent combinations with little streets in-between. Sort of hillbilly township. Tents were clearly something of a novelty as of the only two places available for pitching, one was concrete and the other, sand. We opted for the sand and prayed that there would only be light winds. It rained a bit but no harm done.

Shortly after our arrival a guy arrived on a motor bike. He was a German biker named Sven and we shared a very enjoyable meal and an evening of conversation in English, I might add, as he spoke the language very well. We would certainly have struggled in German. Still feeling quite fresh as we turned in.

Tuesday 04. 06. 19

Even with the interruption of the rain which, needless to say, stopped as soon as I had retrieved shoes and drying knickers from outside, we enjoyed a good night's kip.

We breakfasted in town after bidding farewell to Sven. By chance we chose a cafe whose owner spoke quite perfect English which she was anxious to practice. This meant that my complicated order for breakfast and sandwiches for lunch was met with enthusiasm.

The weather was overcast and not that warm but what was to come was quite a shock. It began with a drizzle, then a bit heavier drizzle (Waterproofs on) the full storm downpour, and visibility reduced to not very much. And unusually we were on a busy main road which was soon a running river and a very scary place to be. We left the main road at the earliest sensible junction and the rain finally eased leaving us pretty soaked. Astoundingly in less than an hour, the rain ceased for good and visibility improved no end, a further hour later, the sun was shining and we were steaming.

At this point in our quite uppy/downy ride, the route directed us round and under the main road onto a sandy track leading to yet another beach. For us, another dead end - no way through- big fence - lots of don't you dare signs. So, back up the fifth or so very steep hill of the day, so steep, in fact, that a campervan was hanging precariously on the edge of a ditch on the side of the road. There was little we could do to help although we did make the gesture. Workmen, from the road above we busy trying did things as we carried on with our pushing.

We have met in passing three other laden bikers today only one of which was trying to follow the Eurovelo route and having about as much success as we were and they were doing it the correct way - south to north.

We have now finished our seven, really quite big climbs, and are back at sea level ready for a beer and a meal.