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Riding the Caminho Português 2019

Highlights of my day by day journal of riding the Caminho Português

This is a composite tour, I rode the Caminho Português in somewhat unconventional way, I started in Porto and headed south down the Atlantic coast to Lisbon, a kinda reverse Caminho da Costa ‑ coastal Camino ‑ and then from Lisbon I did a U turn and headed north along the inland route back up to Porto and onward to Santiago de Compostela via Caminho Real ‑ the Central Way ‑ the main historic route. As I found on the Via Francigena, spiritual journeys encompass temporal punishments and so to keep temporal punishment within reasonable bounds ‑ for both bandwidth and reading pleasure the journal has been split into two:

Caminho da Costa   Porto to Lisboa
Caminho Português   Lisboa to Santiago de Compostela

This journal is also available ‑ with lot's more images & detail ‑ on the really interesting, if somewhat old‑school, idosyncratic Crazy Guy On a Bike collection of bike touring journals

 

Porto

I lobbed into Porto some 40 plus hours after setting off from Sydney. I'm not sure my strategy of breaking the journey into smaller leaps was worth it, I'm knackered.

Porto is the second biggest city in the oldest and westernmost state in Europe and from my as yet brief encounter is fabuloso. I've spent a thoroughly enjoyable day just joining the throng of other tourists in this picturesque (and damn hilly) city. It has everything a sun starved European tourist wants, sun, sand ‑ yep, real beaches not rocks ‑ a quaint historical centre with great photo opportunities on every corner, not bad beer, better wine, and engaging local cuisine. Francesinha Mostly fish and seafood of course, but tripas ‑ tripe ‑ is apparently synonymous with Porto as is francesinha which is probably more approachable for most of us than tripe, it's a sandwich of sorts made up of multiple layers, multiple meats with melted cheese and sometimes topped with egg and then half drowned in a spicy sauce. Yeah of course I succumbed!   I'm not telling the cardiologist about this larger than life snack that's for sure, but, just as surely, I'm going back for another before I leave. Ahhh, cycling journals and food...

Even tho I don't hit the road until Monday, I also spent a bit of time today doing housekeeping stuff with the bike. Just the usual pre‑ride stuff, checking spokes, adjusting things to my preferences/idiosyncrasies and the like. In passing, an interesting factoid, bike helmets aren't mandatory in Portugal except for e‑bike riders. I also spent time just sightseeing, there's a lot to see here. Everyone ‑ locals that is ‑ who Ive talked to advised me to check out Livraria Lello, alleged to be the most beautiful bookstore in the world. And there was a queue waiting to get inside for their chance to take a selfie on the Harry Potter staircase ‑ the interior features in one of the movies. Probably the only bookstore in the world with a queue on a Sunday morning. Actually the interior was pretty amazing, yeah, I joined the queue and paid my 5€ for the privilege. As I said, Porto is a walking city and it wasn't too far to the train station, the interior of which just has to be seen to be believed, thousands of blue tiles creating heroic scenes of the history of Portugal. A truly beautiful public space. Who said function had to dicate form?

Did I mention there are a lot of hills in Porto?   My Garmin advised me that I'd done a week's worth of stair climbing in half a day so coffee and a little something seemed to be appropriate. I was pleased to find that I'm back in the realms of 1€ coffee. And the pastéis de nata wasn't much more. A very inexpensive treat. At least the gazillion steps to the river bank from the café were all downward.

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Porto to Furadouro
Distance:   45 km
Total Distance:   45 km


Now this is the way to start a tour, ease in, very very gently! I rode an almost derisory 45 kms today, mostly dead flat, mostly on good quality off‑road cycle paths. I don't think a more relaxed start could be possible.

But let's start at the beginning, a leisurely start to the day meant the ride didn’t start util quite late, around 9am. The relaxedness didn't last long tho, just a few hundred metres. The first of the Caminho route markers ‑ the arrow was pointing in the opposite direction, but after all, for the bit of the ride down to Lisbon I'm riding the route backwards ‑ was at the Ponte de Louis 1 and the bridge turned out to be narrow, one lane in each direction and quite heavily trafficked. Not for the faint hearted. At least it was a relatively short distance and once across the riding was peaceful. Navigation was easy too, basically just hug the southern bank of the river until the coast and then follow the coastline. The ride along the riverbank was great, included a nice boardwalk section built out over the river, very picturesque.

Once or twice the bike path diverted into tawdry strip developments of the type that seem to be everywhere and while many places were shuttered up, there were plenty of parked cars in the streets and lots and lots of joggers, dog walkers and the like about. In amongst the newer developments were a couple of evidently older villages offering a chance for coffee and cake somewhere other than a beachfront bar and I duly indulged, a couple of times. 1€ coffee is hard to pass by. It wasn't just sand and sea, the path went thru a wetland area via a raised boardwalk that meandered thru the reeds and scrub to the sound of zillions of birds (and frogs), it was a nice ride. There was also a longish section thru a fragrant pine forest where you could catch glimpses of the sea thru the trees, quite evocative. I was following the EuroVelo 1 for quite a way and once or twice the route was on‑road, the quiet suburban back streets were fine, the pavement was pretty crook,delaminations, crumbling edges, shoddy repairs and the like. Just the once, well once after the bridge in Porto, the route went onto a main road, again a narrow bridge was involved, and while I waited for a break in the traffic to be able to join the traffic flow, a driver stopped and waved me onto the road in front of him, a most unusual act and altho we slowed traffic considerably for a few minutes there were no horns or other signs of annoyance from the effected motorists. Right now I'm holding Portuguese drivers in high respect.

Although I’d only ridden 45 kms I stopped in Furadouro, a quintessential seaside resort town, half deserted tho, it's not quite the season yet. And if fishing, surfing or boating aren't your thing then there’s precious little to do, but right now the laid back friendly nature of the place makes it a perfect first day stop.

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Furadouro to Aveiro
Distance:   45 km
Total Distance:   90 km


Furadouro was a relaxed place to stop and in keeping with its ambience, today's ride again started of at a leisurely pace ‑ tho at 13° C it was a tad chilly for me, the obvious solution was simply to pedal faster.

Much of the route today was on road, and a main road, the N327, to boot. While a major road it was only one (much wider than usual) lane in each direction and dedicated bike paths appeared and disappeared at random so most of the ride was in relatively heavy traffic. I have to say tho, while I saw some very average behaviours from motorists, everything was sweetness and light when it came to me, more than once while waiting for a break in the traffic to traverse a pinch point, a motorist stopped and waved me onto the road ahead of them.

The route followed a thin finger‑like strip of land, well, dunes, between the sea and a large inlet, with the road hugging the shore of the inlet. Again today there was a fair bit of wind, but unlike yesterday it was an incessant head wind. As the road neared the São Jacinta national park, the only traffic was fishing boats on the water and peletons of lycra warriors on the road, it's obviously a local training track, but like the bike paths this morning, the road abruptly ended at a ferry wharf. Now I'd been told a ferry ran every hour or so, they don't, they run every two hours, so I ended up cooling my heels at the end of the earth for almost two hours, no point stressing. Little by little a small gathering of cyclists congealed and we spent the time swapping stories so in the end it was an interesting, if windy, wait. The ferry (€2.05) took about 15 minutes and docked in a small working port surrounded by vast piles of salt. Navigation from the port to the nearest town, Aveiro, was, to say the least, challenging, without the GPS I'd probably still be wandering around the salt pans. And of course, the only bridge in the area was closed for repair forcing a seat of the pants ride into town.

Aveiro certainly has a unique character, crisscrossed with canals. It has obviously been a wealthy trading town, salt, ceramics and seaweed apparently. Yes, seaweed. It was used as a fertiliser and gathered by colourfully decorated moliceiro ‑ boats ‑ which these days gather tourists for canal tours. There are quite a few lovely Art Deco buildings in the city centre and more than a few beautifully tiled churches. And houses, even car garages have tiles. The remoteness of the mornings ride meant I'd missed coffee and cake, but I made up for that here in Aveiro. It is said that to visit Aveiro without tasting ovos moles is a sin and not wanting to be a sinner, I indulged. The recipe is quite simple, eggs and sugar in a light outer casing of delicate wafer but the execution is far from simple, the shapes of the wafers are innumerable.

Another short distance day, and any downside attributable to strong headwinds, a long wait for the ferry and navigation challenges is more than made up by the almost ridiculously pleasant vibe of Aveiro. This is why we ride is it not?

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Aveiro to Figueira da Foz
Distance:   75 km
Total Distance:   165 km


This morning it was just as difficult navigating the tangle of roads to leave the town as it was to enter, then again perhaps this is the secret to the friendliness of the town, perhaps it's so hard to get in and out that the hordes don't overrun the place? The route out of town, on main roads, mostly without dedicated bike lanes ‑ during peak hour morning traffic ‑ wasn't as bad as it might sound. And guess where it took me?   Yes, back to the port. Once clear of the port a lovely wide shared pedestrian/bike path appeared and while differing bits of the path ended there was always another path less than 100m away. Made for very restful riding. Again today it was a very flat route, the only ascents were over a myriad of humpback bridges spanning inlets, rivers and canals, lots of canals today. About 10km or so from Aveiro the route went thru an amazing little village, Costa Nova, where lots of the houses are painted in bright stripes which made it a remarkably picturesque place. A friendly fellow cyclist very aptly described the houses as 'pyjama houses'

After Costa Nova the route followed a great boardwalk bike path to Vigo and from Vigo there were long stretches of winding gravel track along the estuary shore, quite deserted, apart from an occasional fisherman, it was really nice just taking it easy, riding at a comfortable speed with just the landscape to see and birds to hear. The gravel track morphed into an asphalt bike path and back into a rural road. All very peaceful, all very agreeable, then around Praia da Mira the freshly sown fields were redolent with the fragrance of cow shit, so much so that the gag reflex was about to kick in when I rode thru a stand of eucalyptuses, and boy, was their homely scent welcome. Praia da Mira is, as the name says, a beach, and the small town another seaside resort tidying itself up in readiness for the forthcoming season. A pleasant enough place for a bite of sustenance before swinging away from the coast into pine forests for the 40 or so km back to the coast at Figueira da Foz. The morning was, by and large, peaceful, easy riding, the afternoon however was just the opposite.

Not too many roads, other than the motorway and the N109, in this region, so it was sort of by default that I followed the lesser of two evils, the N109. It's a fine piece of road with a decently wide shoulder in most parts and it runs thru pine forests and getting closer to Figueira, straggley urban areas. But ‑ always one of those isn't there? ‑ But, it carries lots of heavy vehicles, the pine forest was either burnt out (wild fires devastated the region two years ago) or clear felled. Not much serenity about. And there were hills, some pretty decent ones too, including a nasty long, fairly steep one where there was no shoulder at all and with all the heavy vehicles about, it was the total opposite of serene riding. The same sort of tensions resurfaced a few kms on when to get into Figueira a couple of dicey lane hops to the left were required ‑ motorists were respectful, but when they're doing 90 it's still stressful isn't it?

And so into Figueira, a spread out nondescript city that could be anywhere, but with a charming old town area, totally dominated by the town's principal attraction, the casino. The narrow cobbled streets of the centre are lined with some lovely Art Nouveau buildings and there are plenty of parks and even more trees, very attractive. So, a day of halves, as the sporting cliché goes, but I'm feeling good and rather liking that I've completed a 'proper' day's ride.

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Figueira da Foz to São Pedro del Moel
Distance:   70 km
Total Distance:   235 km

An earlier start today and I was feeling good too, but as soon as I emerged from the narrow cobbled streets of the old town in Figueira the skyline changed from Art Nouveau buildings to one dominated by a very big bridge, now as touring cyclists we know that there is only one possible outcome in such a situation don’t we? Sure enough, I had to cross the bridge. This, of course, meant going back onto the N109. In peak hour. The on-ramp was relatively short which of course meant that it was brutally steep, and my legs were barely warm. About halfway up, a footpath suddenly appeared out of nowhere but with no breaks in the guard rail, how to get onto it? Short answer, I couldn’t, I just had to tough it out in the traffic. Traffic was heavy, lots of heavy vehicles, and all moving fast. There wasn’t much opportunity for the heavy vehicles to give me as much space as usual when overtaking but they did their best and what could have been a totally fraught experience wasn’t actually too awful. Then about halfway down the (rather gentle) off-ramp I was able to swing onto the footpath, just in time, there was another (smaller, lower) bridge to cross. A reasonably torrid start to the day!

The bike path follows Estrada Atlãntica thru extensive pine forests, apparently first planted in the 15th century to provide timber for the Portuguese fleet then busy expanding the boundaries of Western geography. To me, the Estrada Atlãntica consists of interconnected extremely loooong, extremely straight slight inclines! Reminded me of riding in Oz, with interminable straight roads leading you into a kind of zombie like trance, just one pedal stroke after the other without conscious engagement. The frequent stands of plantation eucalyptus - with their faint fragrance - added to the feeling I was riding in Oz. Then in the midst of one of the many clear felled areas, a pack of dogs just appeared and gave chase. This snapped me out of the trance, I dropped a gear and pedalled like hell, it worked, the dogs dropped away as abruptly as they appeared.

Pilgrim The road soon dropped down to the coast, a rugged,rocky coastline interspersed with lovely white sand beaches, very scenic but quite hilly. At São Pedro del Moel, a pimple spot of a village perched high on cliffs, I decided that I’d done enough for a day, so here I am, sitting on the edge of the cliff sipping a nice glass of port. Gee, touring cyclists do it tough!

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São Pedro del Moel to Óbidos
Distance:   74 km
Total Distance:   309 km

Sunny and 6°C this morning, that was a bit of a shock to the system! São Pedro del Moel was a nice, quiet little village which apparently heaves on weekends with Lisboners seeking a little respite and/or surfing - it even has it’s own surf cam - so leaving was very straight forward, just a block to the main road to pick up the bike path and head south. The first 15 km were much like yesterday, forest, long straights and off-road bike path, tho there were more turns and more hills. Easy, if not engaging, riding. Just before Nazaré, hills began in earnest and much of the rest of the day it was hill after hill after hill. Nazaré had a postcard quality about it, colourful street traders in traditional dress - tho just how traditional the shortness of their multiple skirts (7 apparently) is may well be open to debate - and steep narrow cobbled streets. It’s long beach houses an open-air boat museum as well as the usual bars while the foreshore is lined with hotels and restaurants.

After Nazaré a pattern emerged, swing away from the coast to zig zag (on road, no bike paths here) thru agricultural valleys and lots and lots of short climbs before rolling back down to the coast. The valleys were nice, dotted with neat-as-a-pin villages and small plots, market garden type plots perhaps? Climbing out of the valleys usually involved short, sharp ascents. When the route reached the coast, bike paths usually re-appeared, tho not all were in good repair, one in particular was an absolute punishment, the boardwalk had collapsed and/or been reclaimed by dunes and as you’ll know, bikes and soft sand aren’t a good combination, riding was impossible and even man-handling the bike was a chore. To add insult to injury, immediately after this section the route ascended. An interminable climb, you know the sort, not fabulously steep, just steady with no respite, no flatter sections, no opportunity to take a break. All I could do was to find a comfortable rhythm and stick to it, even so, it was a tiring effort - pay back for all that flat stuff I’ve been doing?

At Foz do Arelho, after a really nice long sweeping descent which assuaged any pain, the route took a sharp right angle turn up into the hills. Again, these were mostly short, sharp climbs, skirting forest, or to be more precise, plantations, these were very obviously commercial timber plantations. Emerging from one of these plantations, rather like emerging out of Figueira’s old town, the skyline was absolutely dominated, the eye could see nothing else. Yesterday it was a bridge, today it was a medieval walled city. Just like the bridge, you just knew that there was a climb coming. And it was a bastard! Zig zagging up at a crawl speed, hoping that the effort will be rewarded... And it sure was. Óbidos is a small fortified town and while overrun with day trippers from Lisbon still manages to display a welcoming charm. Well, maybe it’s the charm and maybe it was the francesinha with which I rewarded myself after the climb, or perhaps the Gina - a local cherry liqueur (served in a cup made of chocolate), but my legs were in no state to continue - or so I told myself. So, in Óbidos I stay.

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Óbidos to Lisboa
Distance:   8 km
Total Distance:   317 km

OK, change in plans. I had intended to ride down the coast to Sintra and then on into Lisboa by train. But to cut a long story (very) short; an (almost) totally bike free day and a train ride to the big smoke, Lisboa.

Now trains are trains, so instead of a trip report, a vignette of my ride from Porto:

So here I am riding along a quiet rural road when I come upon a gaggle of detour / roadworks in progress signs. I’m riding with the GPS set at 120m and no alternate options to detour onto are showing up. As I stab a gloved finger at the GPS, a high-vis suited workman saunters up and says something to me, my obvious blankness prompts him to switch to English - in passing, many Portuguese have a Scandinavian grasp of the language, they speak nigh on perfect idiomatic English - and he tells me it’s OK for me to ride thru but take care doing so. He then turns and yells out something to another worker further down the road as I swing past the barriers. The second worker is busy yelling at another worker further down the road as I ride by. And so it goes until I reach the section where they’re actually working, ripping up asphalt in preparation for resurfacing, and I stop to cede right of way to one of the machines. As I wait, briefly, a nearby worker reaches into an adjacent heavily laden orange tree and after careful inspection picks three oranges, one goes in his pocket the other two go into one of my panniers with a conspiratorial wink and a cheerful Bon Voyage!. The oranges were perfect, both juicily sweet and acidic. I usually go thru a couple of bananas- the cyclists friend - a day, but while in Portugal, it’s an orange and a banana a day

These are the little things that I like about touring on my bike, it’s good to be reminded that simple, generous gestures survive in an otherwise hostile world.

But anyway, here I am in Lisboa and it looks fabulous, even with cloudy skiesand it's obviously going to be good to spend a couple of off‑bike days here

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Jump to Part 2 of my 2019 Caminho Português journal

 

Copyright © 2003 - Grant Walter   Version: 1.0 (March 5 2021)

 

Backgound image: EuroVelo 6 bike path near Ehingen, Germany
Banner image: Camhino sign, Portugal