Residencial Sol Mar €40, incl breakfast

Though the bed was tiny, I slept fairly well. The clocks had changed so it was darkish til 7:30 am plus it was hazy with rain in the forecast so it was not a bright sunny morning like it has been.

I went upstairs to the breakfast room just after 8 am to find breakfast ready, though I had heard they were fairly strict on having it only from 9 to 10 am. I took a bread roll which was crumbly and old, as if the bread had been wet before then dried off. I was hungry so I ate it anyway, and at least the meat and cheese were tasty. There was some type of fruit and nut bread on the table, but I think it might have been from several or many days ago. Some even looked like they had bites out of them.

I was ready to go just before 8:30 am so I carefully navigated the long and steep stairs with the loaded bike, let my GPS find the track, then set off on a route that was going back up to where I had walked yesterday and to the northwest toward the Atlantic. There was some climbing to get out of town but then the next while was curving downhills as I gradually headed out of the Serra Monchique. Here was where I found hill after hill of burned and decimated mountains. In the odd spot the fire hadn't burned and there were beautiful stands of pine, eucalyptus, cork, and general vegetation. It was scary how long this went on and how destroyed the hills were. Gradually, though, the hills had fewer and fewer burned areas and then I was descending through lush green forests accompanied by twittering birds.

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I had noticed that there was a much bigger road further south and that the route I had planned out wiggled and turned its way through the mountains. It was exactly that. Not only was it incredibly beautiful, but I think the whole cycling day I may have seen less than a dozen vehicles. Yes, you heard that right, I had the road to myself. For the most part it was new tarmac, but at one point it was crushed limestone and sand which was still easily manageable with my wide Schwalbe tires.

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Other than a point about 30 km into the ride, my leg was not bothering me. All told, I was a really happy cyclist today. Everything was just perfect.

I had seen the profile of my route and knew that there was going to be a final steep climb and then about another ten to twelve easy km to Odeceixe. Sure enough, I came past a farmer tending his pigs and cattle when all of a sudden the road just turned upwards. I decided it was not worth the gamble of hurting anything so I got off and walked. It took a while, but once I reached the summit the terrain went pretty well level and I zipped almost all of the way to town. It was only within the final km or two when the GPS track brought me through some of the village on the hills. For the most part it was descending, but the village roads were really steep so I was really careful.

Down along the river valley, I quickly found this beautiful residencial, checked in and now have a beautiful big room. The clouds are rolling in and rain is expected, but I still want to head to the beach which is about 3 km away. There are restaurants there so I hope to slip in for lunch.

The ride out to the beach was mostly easy and flat except for the last 500 m which climbed onto the hill overlooking the actual beach. And wow, what a beautiful spot. A vast expanse of sand where the river empties into the Atlantic. There were people down on the beach but as the storm apparoched they slowly drifted up to town to their cars.

I climbed the stairs up to the restaurant which overlooks the beach, taking a table under the huge canopies just in case the skies let loose. The river marks the border between the provinces of Algarve and Alentejo. Thus, seeing it on the menu, I had to order carne de porco alentejana. Pork pieces that have been marinating in garlic and olive oil, then cooked with clams and served over potatoes. It was as good as I remembered. Back in 1982 I think I ate it almost every dinner, it was so good.

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As I sat there the skies straight east (inland) were black and the thunder boomed and crashed. Before my lunch I simply figured I would get wet on the way back. The clouds were very slow-moving, though, so when I finished lunch, they still had not quite arrived. Here was my chance to dash back to my room. The intial part was downhill and the whole thing would be with the wind at my back. I got back before a single drop fell. In fact, I sat on a bench in the mini park out in front until a few drops started to fall.

Now, as I type this at 3:00 pm awaiting the start of the Bahrain Formula 1 race (if I can find it on the sat tv) it is pouring cats and dogs with continual thunder and lightning. It is nice to be indoors!

I never did find the race, and the rain continued on to about 7 pm when I finally headed out of the room. I was still fairly full from my huge lunch, so just wanted to end the day with a little dessert. I headed to one place, Romeu, but as I approached it, I could see it was closed. As I was looking in, a man came out of a door across the road from it to tell me he was the owner but had broken his arm two days earlier and could not be open. He said he slipped on the stone steps in his house and says it is a miracle he didn't hit his head and kill himself. Yikes!

Down around the corner was Chaparro which was packed and noisy inside but had some empty tables under a canopy out on the terrace. I took a look at the sweets inside and settled on a slice of apple pie. The apples were creamy and smooth and the crust some type of biscuit (?). It was good.

I wandered around the village to take some photos. It really is a pretty place, with its tiny cobbled streets winding up and down the hill. In one spot the cobbled road formed a type of 'v' which had granite slabs along which flowed a small stream down through the town. Interesting ways of dealing with running water.

Due to the rain earlier, the birds were out twittering in full force, and the air smelled fresh and clean with a mix of floral scents, too. But, as it started to get a bit dark out, I headed back to the hotel for the night.