Slow down and smell the....piri piri chicken!

Thursday 12 April 2018 - Day 39

We’ve spent some time trapped today!  The experience of being woken early by a stall-holder wanting his pitch was actually quite funny - I leapt out of bed (and luckily remembered to get dressed!), opening the sliding door to see we were completely hemmed in by market stalls, with our stall-holder expectantly and politely asking us to move!  We’d heard some noise a couple of hours earlier but thought it was workmen; it was actually other stall holders hammering iron pegs into the tarmac!  Luckily there was some room further up behind another motorhome so I quickly moved us out of the way; I could then seen the other vans had also had to move and were also squashed up together, stuck for the day.  There was no sign on the aires board here, or in any of the books, to suggest today was market day.  It had started to rain by then, but I popped back and offered my apologies to the stall-holder - smiles all round. I looked for a way too drive through but it was clear we were going nowhere until the market packs up. 

In our new pitch we had a cup of tea and woke up.  Later (during a gap in the rain), I popped out for a walk around.  The nearest stall to us was a food stall (more about that later).  There were a couple of butchers, a couple of stalls selling bacalao, cheeses and preserved sausages, plus a couple of fruit and veg stalls.  The remainder were mainly clothes, kitchenware and wooden products, plus one selling live chickens.  I walked down to the Padaria to buy some bread and cakes and had a quick espresso while out of the rain (which had started again).  This town is built on several levels on the steep valley side.  Despite the rain it looks a nice place and on a warm sunny day, we’d no doubt explore and try and find a walk.

Back across the road to the market, I popped over to the stall whose pitch we’d been on - again smiles all around.  I bought a small round of goat’s cheese to give something back.  It was then time to queue for breakfast!  I’d been looking forward to piri piri chicken for our whole time in Portugal, but thought my chance had slipped away. Here it was being cooked over large half-drums of charcoal, slowly turned on a flat spit and regularly basted.  I joined the queue of people buying hot, spatchcocked chicken to take home.  There were long tables and benches under cover, where locals sat to eat, drink and catch up.  With my hot chicken and chips in a bag, I stopped for a cup of wine, swapping a hello and smile with the old chaps; not a word was understood between us but that didn’t matter.  Back at the van, we tucked into our unusual breakfast!

The market started to pack up around midday, which allowed us to make our escape.  The route out was interesting, including creeping past a section of road that had partially collapsed down the hill and with a steep and slippery hill start on wet cobbles at traffic lights, with an immediate sharp right turn into a very narrow lane with high buildings on either side - there was just enough room for us but a larger motorhome would not have made it. The journey was a wet one, with a quick stop for diesel, before we arrived at this aire in Furadouro, on the edge of the village, with dunes between us and the beach.  It’s supposed to be a popular fishing and surfing spot, but, like the other van occupants here, we’re huddled inside out of the torrential rain. I think we’re now set for the night.

The rainy confinement has allowed me to take a slower and longer look at our route through Portugal and into northern Spain.   I’m feeling much happier after a rubbish day yesterday. Perhaps getting blocked in at the market was a sign to slow down and smell the…….BBQ piri piri chicken!  I think the weather over the past few days hasn’t helped, with days of wind and then heavy rain confining us to the inside of our small van.  Cathy summarised it well on our drive here, when she said that out of the six weeks we’ve been away, we’ve sat outside the van less than ten times.  I hope it’ll improve sometime soon, although the forecast back home on Anglesey for the next week is looking better than northern Portugal and Spain!

A few kind people have sent me details of places to visit or stay in northern Spain and I'm really grateful to them, as it's always good to have a recommendation from someone who's been there before.  Thanks GlorYa and Roaming Man!

Our new blocked in pitch after moving for the stall holder

And here's a happy stall holder on the right!

You can see how close we were to the food stall!

hhmmm - chiiiiiiicken! 

Nice and dry while I drink my breakfast vino

Now THAT's a breakfast!

Some lovely views across to the river and other valley side

Swollen Rivers

Wednesday 11 April 2018 - Day 38

No, the blog title doesn’t refer to a country singer!  It’s been a bit of a weird day.  Probably the highlight was visiting the laundrette at last night’s stop!  I found it last night when wandering around and we had a good bag of washing, plus some clothes that could do with a ‘refresh’.  We were able to park almost alongside and the lovely Portuguese ‘Mrs Overall’ showed us the ropes.  While Cathy enjoyed the novelty of not having to hand wash our clothes, I stayed in the van and did a bit of research.  

With dry, fresh smelling clothes back in the van, we drove half an hour to the Buddha Eden Garden in Bombarral.  In the guide book it’s described as an amazing place to relax and reflect amongst plants, gardens and sculptures.  It’s certainly in a lovely position, next to a vineyard and with great views.  It’s very much a work in progress and not a great deal of thought has gone into the planting, with large areas covered in the same plant or shrub; there’s also lots of bare ground and the watering system is just lying on top of the soil, so it looks very unfinished.  The sculptures and statues are nice but there are just too many of them. You’re saturated - less is more.  Rather than looking forward to seeing the next one, they just completely overpower the view.  And whoever thought of making the Terracotta Army Warriors look like smurfs was clearly smoking something very strong at the time! Still, there were very few people there so we walked around enjoying the peace and quiet.  It’s next to a working winery who sell their wines in the shop as you exit. Some of them were great value for money; Cathy tried a blue sparkling wine - it was actually blue in colour!  She said it was very bubbly but couldn’t get the blue colour out of her mind. The reds looked good but were very heavy at 14% alcohol, so we settled on a light bottle of rose. 

After lunch in the van we discussed where to head next.  Heavy rain was again forecast so we thought heading inland might be a better idea.  The first place wasn’t that great so we continued on.  We drove through some lovely little villages but the roads were so dreadful, I had to leave them and join the toll motorway.  We plugged in an aire in Coimbra, but on arrival it was rammed with ‘freeloaders’ (looked like they’d been there for months).  Plus the river was really high and looked ready to burst its banks; with more heavy rain forecast tonight and all day tomorrow, it didn’t seem a great idea to be there overnight.  Besides, it was one of the few aires we’ve pulled into that we both didn’t feel comfortable with.  So I picked an alternative about half an hour away.  The route was along a very windy road hugging the side of a steep valley, with the swollen river below us. It was an ‘interesting’ drive although I focused on staying on the road (in some places there was no barrier between us and a 100 ft drop to the river) rather than looking at the scenery.  We eventually arrived in the town of Penacova, where I parked behind a small van on a surprisingly flat area (given most houses are built on stilts around here).  It’s p****ng down with rain again and this is forecast to carry on through the night and tomorrow.  I hope the roads and bridges survive.

Tomorrow morning I need to do some research for our route north.  

Too weird for words

Some sanity in a surreal place - the vineyard

Our current spot - high in the hills and well above the raging river

Piso em mau estado

Tuesday 10 April 2018 - Day 37

It’s been a wet and windy day and the temperature’s struggled to get into double figures.  We woke to find the stormy gusts and heavy rain had returned, so we had a rethink on our plan.  We’d seen plenty of cliffs and wild seas, so it was time for something different.  Instead, we took advantage of the poor weather to put some miles in, heading further north.  The roads were, as always, dreadful. Combined with HGVs overtaking us in torrential rain on blind bends, I was glad to make it to our current stop in one piece. Hence the title of this blog - Piso Em Mau Estado - meaning ‘the road’s in a bad state’. In other words, it’s cheaper and easier to put up a sign saying the roads are shit, than just crack on and fix them!  You’ll probably be guessing that we’re still not taken with Portugal.  

I had in mind a night stop but we would have reached it before lunchtime, which made no sense. So we stopped at Lidl to top up on food and eat lunch in their large car park.  Back on the road, the Sat Nag clearly was also having a crap day, taking us off piste down a number of very dodgy bomb-cratered roads.  Having said that, we passed through some nice, countryside villages, many with really lovely potagers (mixed veg, fruit and flower gardens) and surrounded by grape vines - this is a much nice part of the country.  The next aire looked promising but was overgrown and covered in graffiti - no thanks. So we moved on to our current stop, which is a bit quirky but actually we really like it.  We’re in the village of A Dos Cunhados (meaning the Two Brothers-in-Law) on our own in a large car park which doubles as an aire.  It overlooks a large cemetery built into four terraces - as I look at now in the dark I’m sure some of the gravestones are lit up!  I wonder if you need to pay more to be buried on the highest terrace!?

On arrival Cathy prepared dinner - delicious veggie fajitas. She was suffering with a painful back after a day sat in the van, so a couple of G&Ts and some painkillers seemed to do the trick!  I wandered into town to have a quick look around and buy a bottle of wine.  It’s relatively small although the road through is quite busy.  I found a few cafes, plus the local market which included a butcher, greengrocer and a laundrette; we plan to use the latter tomorrow.  Thankfully I also found a local shop for the vino.

Well fed and watered, I’ve been watching some locals being put through the hell known as ‘military fitness’. They’ve been at it for a couple of hours, through torrential rain and darkness - so respect to them.  One lad is wearing a large heavy bergen and carrying a heavy wooden pole in lieu of a rifle as he yomps along, clearly training for selection - good luck fella!  It’s still blowing a hooley, still chilly and the showers continue.  Tomorrow we plan to visit a Buddha Garden just up the road, for some peace and solitude.  I hope it’s a bit warmer and drier…

All on our lonesome

At least the neighbours are quiet!

Unlike this church bell - at least it's only on the hour

A sunny Porto Covo

Monday 9 April 2018 - Day 36

We’re still in Porto Covo.  It was a rough night - very strong winds and torrential rain.  When I popped out first thing to buy some bread, the sandy football pitch we were parked on had several large puddles.  I popped into the local cafe to try and buy some rolls but he directed me to the little shop around the corner.  So instead I bought some cakes (for later on) and a quick espresso, stood at the bar; I think that qualified me to purchase some rolls as some freshly baked ones appeared and were offered!  I watched an older guy come in and have his breakfast - a small sweet bun and a bottle of Sagres lager!  

It was fairly cool when we stepped out for a walk around the village, but by the time we’d explored the streets and the small fishing harbour, the sky was clearing and the rest of the day’s been unbroken sunshine. The fishing harbour looked a little sad. It looks unused now but it wasn’t hard to imagine the hustle, bustle and banter of the fishermen as they landed their catch or mended their nets. I have no idea how they entered or left however, as the tidal swell and large breaking waves were literally just outside the small breakwater; I really couldn’t see how a small boat could survive that.

Our walk took us south along a well-signposted coastal path, past several small coves and inlets, many frothing with the bacterial foam that’s constantly being washed ashore, looking like the top of a very frothy coffee. We stopped off at a couple of the beaches to cool our feet and just chill out, before reaching the much larger beach of Ilha do Pessegueiro (Peach Tree Island). The name applies to the mainland beach, another beautiful duned stretch of sand sitting below a small sixteenth-century fort and a restaurant. There’s an island a few hundred metres offshore, with the matching ruins of another fort.  We stopped off at the restaurant for lunch, the only customers on a quiet Monday afternoon. The old lady who served us spoke no English and our Portuguese isn’t much better, but luckily they had an English menu.  We shared two mains of codfish croquettes and fried calamari (large strips of squid rather than the rings normally served), both came with salad, but one with chips and one with rice.  It was delicious but Cathy took the mickey out of me for eating the half and half (chips and rice) combo that I’m always disparaging!   We followed a different marked footpath back to Porto Cove, slightly inland and passing grass verges and fields bursting with a diverse variety of plant-life.  This makes Portugal so much different to Spain, where chemicals seem to have killed off much of the local flora.

Back at the van, we sat in the sunshine with a brew, until the cooling wind drove us inside, although the sun is still shining brightly.  We’re moving on tomorrow, inland for a few days. The weather forecast’s a bit changeable but hopefully we’ll find some interesting and quiet places to explore and stay over.

Nice little houses, but they've never quite finished off

The huge waves breaking just outside the harbour

Frothy bacterial foam

A windy Porto Covo

Sunday 8 April 2018 - Day 35

Nido’s parked up at a new aire in the coastal village of Porto Covo.  It’s been blowing a hooley and raining most of the afternoon, so it’s been read, snooze, cook dinner, eat dinner, wash up, brew.  It’s filling chilly as the wind’s finding it’s way through every nook and cranny in the van.  It looks like we’re stuck with this type of weather for a few days.

We enjoyed our takeaway pizza last night - Cathy had saved a slice which she enjoyed for lunch - I scoffed all of mine in a oner!  We woke quite early and after a quick breakfast of muesli and tea we were on the road.  We had a long chat last night as we weren’t really feeling comfortable with the trip.  Part of this was the culmination of being stuck in the van together for five weeks (the weather’s not been great so we’ve mainly been sitting, cooking and eating inside) but we also agreed we’d been trying to follow guide and aire books too closely.  Towns and cities really aren’t our thing - beaches, countryside, lakes, rivers and hills are.  So we’ve decided to instead aim in a general direction, with a rough area in which to stop for the night, but then follow our noses and see where it takes us.  We’re both feeling a lot happier about this.

As it happens, we’ve ended up staying where we planned to aim for this morning.  On the way we pulled off a couple of times to follow signposts. The first was Praia de Odeceixe - this took us down a bomb-crater road (ie a normal Portuguese B road) to a parking area above the cliffs and small beach.  It wasn’t as dramatic as yesterday’s stop, so we didn’t linger. Onwards up the N120, which is a lovely road, through pine, eucalyptus and cork forests and small hamlets and green fields.  The next stop was Vila Nova de Milfontes, a small coastal village which we guess is full of Lisboetas in the summer - lots of posh shops and big villas - again not for us.  

I’d plugged in a couple of aires in Porto Covo, from my 2015 Camperstops book.  But on arrival we found both closed, replaced by a new aire that was on the village football ground; the goalposts, dugouts and changing rooms are still in place!  I only hope an alternative ground has been provided for the locals.  It’s clearly very new as you can only check in between 0900-1200 and 1500-1800; outside of those hours the entrance is locked.  We paid for two nights (€3 per night) which included servicing but no electric.  We parked up near one of the old football pitch corners, with a view (admittedly between the buildings) of the sea.  Brewed up and lunched, we took advantage of the sunshine to take a walk along the northern coastal path, onto a couple of headlands (waves crashing) and down to a small beach (called Big Beach!) with an expensive restaurant at the bottom of the cliff path.  Back on the top the first of the heavy, windy squalls came in from the sea and we sheltered behind a tall sign.  We hadn’t yet explored the village but with a couple of nights here, there’s time to look around tomorrow (weather permitting!).  Porto Covo clearly had grand plans. This former fishing village has some lovely villas and holiday lets, all radiating off a small central square with a few shops, bars and restaurants, but the financial crash must have hit them hard, as these relatively new builds are small islands in a sea of rough ground, tall grasses and wild flowers.  Some building work is ongoing but I wonder if they’ll ever achieve their vision for the place - such a shame.

We managed about an hour sat outside the van before the cool wind and more rain drove us inside, which is where we’ve been since.  It’s allowed us some contemplation time - in Cathy’s case this was on the bed asleep!  Our first love has always been France.  It’s where we took our first dip in the motorhoming world outside of the UK and we fell for the coast, countryside, variety of landscape, food and wine.  France is such an easy place to travel in a campervan - nearly every town and village has an aire.  It’s normally in the middle of the action, mostly well-maintained and quite often free.  Margaret from lovemotorhoming.com wrote a timely and very eloquent post on a similar subject only today, which reflects much of how we feel about France.  In comparison, southern Spanish aires seem to be built on landfill on the edges of an industrial estate.  Portugal’s a little better, but again they’re mostly a bit tatty  and a long walk from anywhere.  So we’re looking forward to getting back to France but really want to give Spain and Portugal a fair chance; we’re particularly looking forward to the north of both countries as I’ve read so many good things about the areas.  I think we’ll like them.  Please bear in mind I’m not ‘dissing’ Spain and Portugal - it’s horses for courses.  But we know what we like and want from this trip and these are my observation based on our likes and dislikes.

Anyway, the van’s being battered side-on by the strong, gusty onshore winds, so back to being rocked to sleep tonight.  No photos today - you’re probably bored of seeing cliffs and wild seas!

The beauty and power of the west coast

Saturday 7 April 2018 - Day 34

We woke to rain but a break in the weather allowed us to get out and quickly explore the area.  There were cliffs all around us with the surf pounding against the rocks from the Atlantic swell, despite there being no wind at all.  Cathy went on a little further while I returned to the van to make us egg and bacon butties for breakfast; she returned just as the heavens opened again.  After some food shopping we drove a few miles out to the dramatic cliff-fringed Cabo de Sao Vicente - Cape St Vincent - which is the most south-western point of mainland Europe.  The Romans called this Promontorium Sacrum and thought the sun plunged nightly into the sea here.  The sunsets here must be amazing.  There’s no health and safety here, with the cliffs plunging about 300 feet down into the Atlantic swell and surf.  There were a few fishermen perched on the cliff edge and they were catching fish!

We followed the west coast heading north.  The countryside here is beautiful - green, rolling hills with a bio-diversity of trees, shrubs and flowers, plus lots of well looked after fields.  We passed through cork forests, small hamlets and rocky coves, where a multitude of campervans of all shapes, sizes and ages rested - this is more our kind of place.  As we drove along we saw the surf in the distance and turned off to Praia da Borderia, a spectacular beach backed by giant dunes, a tiny river (which we waded across) and crashing surf.  It’s a surfers’ paradise; we parked up with the other camper vans and had lunch before crossing the river and walking across the dunes to reach the sea.  The waves were awesome, particularly just to the south and, after walking along the beach, we followed the wooden boardwalk up and over to the headland.  From here we were awestruck by the large Atlantic swell crashing into the rocks, throwing white water hundreds of feet into the air.  Combined with the huge rollers, the energy of the sea was incredible.  It was hard to pull ourselves away, but we walked back to the van and carried on along the coast. Again we detoured off to Praia de Arrifina. Unlike the last place, this was more of a millionaire’s surfing resort - high-end bistros and restaurants - and campervans definitely not welcome.

So onwards a few miles to our final destination today - the town of Aljezur.  It’s set back from the coast and we crossed the bridge (past the main street) and parked by the river.  The more interesting historic centre spreads uphill via a network of steep, narrow cobbled streets.  We walked up these, past the whitewashed cottages to the remains of an 11th Century Moorish castle.  Back to the bottom, it was raining again, so we hid in the van until later when I popped out to a lovely little pizzeria for some takeaway.

We’ve definitely warmed to Portugal.  It’s much greener, softer and friendlier than southern Spain.  The countryside is lush and beautiful and well-cared for and the west coast is simply stunning.  The people also seem friendly and at ease.  

Nido - front row, second from the right

Cape St Vincent

He's inches from a 300ft drop to the sea - and catching bream!

Dunes of Praia de Borderia

The isolated 'Oasis Beach Bar'

It's difficult to tell the size of those waves

Aljezur

Green valleys from the castle

Nido with other vans in the foreground