Today was the end of the road for my bike trip. I don’t mean “end of the road” in the figurative sense, I mean it in the literal sense in that I kept riding with the ocean to my left until the road ended at the westernmost point of continental Europe.
This is what it looks like on Google Earth.
Whenever I feel like I’m going in the wrong direction, which happens several times a day, I always stop and say “recalculating” quietly to myself. I think it’s funny, and I have no one here to dispute that so I’m going to keep doing it.
The Algarve has many areas I enjoyed, but all of the towns in the eastern 80% of it are very touristy so I would recommended it only to people who don’t mind being around a lot of tourists. On a non-judgmental observational note, I noticed that every town I stayed in had lots of pizzerias. I also witnessed at least five instances of British tourists asking the desk clerks at the hotels I was staying at where there was a good pizzeria (the answer was always “Just walk out the door and head toward the beach. You’ll see plenty of them.”). That’s my observation. If I were young and single I’d open up a Portuguese pizzeria in England and make a killing.
Anyway, today’s ride was exactly what I’d been hoping for over the last few days. Isolated coastal roads, beautiful ocean views, and the constant possibility of heat stroke, dehydration and/or falling off a cliff. From today’s ride:
Yes, that's my road going up the mountain.
These are the ruins of a 17th century castle that was manned with 6 people whose job it was to shoot cannonballs at pirates trying to steal the tuna catch from local fisherman. Substitute a few words in that sentence and it also precisely describes things going on today, 400 years later.
There was a “moat” which I hopped across no problem. It was about 5 feet wide and 4 feet deep (but really, the informational sign called it a moat). I guess maybe they figured there wasn’t much need for protection from the land side.
Anyway, the bike company guy picked me up at the lighthouse and drove me to Loulé, a modest town miles from the coast with no pizzerias. I transferred all of my stuff back out of the panniers (and also transferred some stuff back in – at the beginning of the ride they gave me a toolkit that included a huge wrench and enough tools to disassemble and reassemble my bike. I quietly slipped them all
into my pack and gave it back to them. I figured that if anything went wrong with my bike that required tools like that, the only tool I was going to use was my mobile phone.)
I stopped in this café for a late lunch. The menu was in Portuguese and had no pictures of the food, the waitress spoke no English, and I had only the vaguest sense of what I was ordering. Finally.

Again, very enjoyable. The zero sound periods...stunning and bewildering? Nice approach to the coast + vid editing and like the leap to vertical images ;) ...geesh, a critic at 4100 miles.
ReplyDeletePs. Call me crazy. I'm finishing up Fagen's book and I swear you've walked in his shoes. We'll talk. Or write. Gnite.
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