Day 11: Praia de Mira to Figueroa da Foz

March 12, 2023

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The places we have stayed at so far like 8:30 as a time for breakfast, while we like an hour earlier, to conserve daylight for our ride. This time, at Granny's House Hostel, the host solved the problem by putting the breakfast stuff out for us the night before. With no locked doors in the way, including the garage where our bikes spent the night, we would be free to do our own thing. Very nice.

We got up and were ready for breakfast at 7, and got on with it, though we did wonder at it's being pitch black outside. It was just getting light when we were ready to leave, and we were confused when two of our four clocks gave the time as 7. The other two thought it was 8. And if they were confused, boy we were too, and still are. But the net effect was that we set off in a chill, 11 degree, dim, early morning mist.

It was only us and the birds, as we crossed a little bridge and skirted the lake.

A Muscovy duck - we used to raise these.

The boardwalk - bike way around the lake. We have become used in Portugal to there always being a way for the bikes.

After yesterday, when we were very close to the ocean but never saw it, Dodie suggested early that we take a little jog and have a look at it. You can see this early in the track above, but you will also notice that we did not reach the ocean. Instead we banged into some sort of grey rectangle. This is where we came to a gate and a guardhouse. "What is this place?" we asked. The guard said "I don't speak English" and I said "But you are" and he said "No, I'm not". Anyway, we turned around. We looked the place up on our phone - it was an on land fish farm for turbot, claiming to be very eco-friendly. Eco-friendly does not mean Grampies-friendly, as we were so rapidly given the boot.

Back at the spot from which we did our abortive foray to the ocean, after one false start we got onto the road shown below. It was a strange one that featured various signs of construction, like ummm, barricades, but we were unfazed by these. What was a little freaky was that the road was dead straight, smoothly paved, and totally deserted. We cycled down the centre of it without a care in the world, save for noting how much of a misty wilderness we were passing through. The land on either side was sand dune with a light covering of brush, and we felt there that we could easily be the only people on the planet. This was the official Eurovelo I track, though, so someone was aware of it.

The various barricades were easy to sidestep, but we eventually approached one that looked a little more serious than the others. "Oh,Oh", I said "I hope this road does not end in sand". I was thinking that it is a bug to push through sand, but as in the past, we were prepared to do it. Well, there was no sand. But there was a completely impassable bridge washout. I looked up and down stream a little bit, but there really was no debate on this one, we were hooped.

As you can again see from the track above, we found a way around that did not involve going back to square one. The detour produced some interesting signs of life too, like some peletons of Sunday riders, and more birds!

Riders like these always greet us. But in this case the road was so quiet that I was drifting along on the wrong side, and they had to give a (well coordinated) whoop to wake me up.

I did not quite have the zoom figured out on my new camera. Identifying this little bird would be a expert project even with a close shot, I think.

Here is a bit of a closer look. Anybody?

The detour turned out to have a real silver lining, as we ran into a real huge market in Tocha. This had crowds, with their cars parked all along the highway, and really a lot of bakers, vegetable sellers, and (so stinky!) salt cod (bacalhau) dealers.

This stall had a good selection of local products

We would love to have bought one of these cheeses, but they are too much to eat quickly and need refrigeration.

People were lined up for the stinky cod.

Take a number, for the giant pastry truck.

In Montreal there are places featuring Portuguese chicken BBQ, so it must be something special. Here they are doing it on charcoal, on the flat.

Mainly they were selling whole chickens, cut up. Too much for us!

But we found a place that would sell just piece, on a bun. Dodie waded in, while I watched the bikes. The man above, in the stall, called in his granddaughter to figure out what the crazy tourist wanted.

This was so yummy - the bun good quality, the chicken a little peppery.

There was more than food on offer, like these baskets, tagine pottery, even chain saws.

I need all these! (Except I have been shown to abandon plantings to go cycling).

This lady looks typically Portuguese, whatever that is. Maybe it's the hat.

We left the market and the town to head back to our track. Of course, there is a bike path for that.

While we were still in the vicinity of the market town, we could enjoy looking at the buildings and their garden plantings. We are still wowed by the oranges and lemons and the giant Bird of Paradise bushes, but there are so many others to like. For example, this Magnolia, which we also have at home.

The bike paths are not "accidental" - they result from very deliberate programs, like we need more of at home.

Once back on EV1 and that great paved road, we again felt like we were in the wilderness.

At least we had this bird to sing to us. A chickadee?

At last the route arrived at the ocean, at Praia de (Quiaios beach). While we had still been on the EV1 paved road, we were sitting on a stump eating a sandwich when someone in a truck pulled over d asked where we were headed. On learning that it was Figueroa, he insisted that we should spend the night at Quiaios, and tackle Figueroa the next day. He said we would never make it today, because of the "mountain". We poo poo's this because, you know, we are experts! Read on to see what happened.

Looking away from the beach, the houses are like these.

The boardwalks are to protect the dune area. Here is an ice plant flower among those dunes.

You can not see it in the photo, but at the end of the beach the road begins to climb. See those mountains ahead? Yeah!

On the climb, Dodie probably got nervous having me on her tail, so I went on ahead. It was fairly far and steep. I stopped to wait at the top, and found I had time to read some emails, write one to Joni, and even to disassemble and adjust my rear brakes, before at last Dodie appeared. However she was not winded or anything, and set right off again.

Looking down on the waves, we wondered if they were surfing quality.

Once we were over the cliffs we entered a whole different world. Down on the other side was the condo world of Figuero, with throngs of people out along a very long stretch of beach. Of course, there was a bike way along the entire length, with the only problem being the number of people who strayed into the way.

Some of the buildings were quite picturesque.

The bike path stuck with us all the way to the far end of the beach. Out there we also saw a small fort, and finally a tall bridge. Dodie had been able to put a finger on our hotel in Osmand+ the night before, but with some big roads now lurking about, the question was how to reach it. We handled this with the standard GPS ploy of just getting a route from your present location to the destination. Osmand has not proven totally trustworthy with this, but sometimes it's ok. This time it quite quickly and safely brought us to the Salmanha Hotel. At least it brought us to a locked gate. This is where you really also need a phone that can reach a local number. We phoned, and were surprised to have a lady who spoke only French respond. She soon open the gate and ushered us to a lovely room, ground floor, where our bikes could be just outside and of course protected by that gate.

We still harken to our tenting days when looking at hotel rooms. If you can they don't leak, then the rooms are fine by us, and sin e you can stand up inside - bonus! On the other hand we must admit that a room with counter space for your stuff, a desk, good light, fluffy quilt, towel warmer to dry your socks, etc. etc. increases the enjoyment. Tonight's room was like that, so we are really happy. And oh yes, the pool. It's still slightly too chilly for the pool, though that 11 degree starting temperature did go well over 20 today.

Today's ride: 65 km (40 miles)
Total: 225 km (140 miles)

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Kelly IniguezTowel warmers? Is that a common thing in Europe? I could get used to that one.
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1 year ago

Steve Miller/GrampiesTo Kelly IniguezIt is a type of wall mounted plug in heater with enclosed rails. Double function-warm the bathroom and any items hung on the rails. Works a treat to quickly dry cyclists hand washed clothing.
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1 year ago

Kelly IniguezTo Steve Miller/GrampiesIs it common in Europe? A Portugal thing? It sounds mighty fine!
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1 year ago

Keith KleinTo Kelly IniguezHi,
Fairly common in France and Italy, but in hotels it depends on price, with the higher priced hotels more likely to have them, and the newer the hotel, the more likely, too. We have one in our bathroom, and it’s great in the winter for warming socks! I’m not sure about Europe in general, and my experience with bnb’s suggests that they are slowly catching on as places get renovated.
Cheers,
Keith
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1 year ago