1,650 miles later...

Updating from my room at the Williams house in Oxford. Hard to believe that we made it, there were some days a few weeks ago when Oxford seem impossibly far away. It's pretty incredible to look at a map of Europe, point to Lisbon, Portugal, and trace the thousands of miles that we rode to get back to England. I'll recount the journey North through France, looking back at what I had written from the road.

Day 17 - Day 1 for the newbies

Bike shop at 9am to get some last minute items, food from Carrefour, brief section of major motorway while drivers honked at us, and then we were off. What an amazing day of riding, the weather was absolutely perfect. We had a flat road along a river that runs from the coast into Pau, the snow capped Pyrenees towering on the horizon, and clear skies all day.



Stayed at some "Camping Municipal" in Pau, nobody was there so we had a free night for our first day on the road. It was a great way to start as a new group, we shared Corona's for dessert while I iced my achilles with frozen caulifowers. Such a great way to end your day.

On the horizon
the great Pyrenees stand tall
as we admire

Day 18 - The day I get my first pilgrim stamp

Today was reminiscent of the first half of the trip, waking up in the rain, an hour long coffee break in the early afternoon, and plenty of ups and downs. Weather aside, this area of France is stunning, with rolling hills all around and these quaint French towns dotting the countryside.

When climbed up a wall of a hill to get into Auch, Amy tipped over half way up because it was so steep. I shamelessly tried to charm the locals in hopes that we could find a place to sleep and tonight we were in luck. I started speaking in French to an older woman, and within a few minutes she was parading us through town, stopping to get her friends in their local shops, and making phone calls to find us somewhere to sleep. I love Auch. Lots of French was spoken very quickly, not really sure what they were saying but we were told to wait somewhere for David. He was going to be there in 10 minutes.

David, a 36-year old priest came out of a beautiful three story building in the middle of town, ushered us in, showed us maps, beds, showers, a kitchen, a balcony overlooking the city and the cathedral... wow. We were speechless. He helps pilgrims that are walking/riding the Camino of Saint Jacques and he just so happened to be in town that night. It was incredible.

Dale is happy


The Cathedral


I truly believe
one appreciates things most
after the struggles

Day 19 - Auch to Lauzert

Took advantage of our kitchen and made some omelettes for breakfast. So good. Beautiful roads today, a bit flatter, and also much nicer weather. Today brought us closer to the parts of Southern France that we had been hearing so much about, I was really looking forward to the days ahead of us.

Nice lunch break


I had another one of those blissful moments as we were riding along a ridge in the middle of some rolling fields. It's pretty amazing that we are out here and we are really lucky to have the chance to spend four weeks in the middle of our academic year biking around Europe.

Rolling countryside
with towns on top of the hills
and miles between



View from our campsite


Day 20 - Cracking the 1K barrier

Dale and I hit our 1,000 mile mark as we descended into Cahors in the morning. We had a gorgeous ride out of Cahors along a river, and then we turned North and headed through a valley with beautiful cliffs on both sides and tiny little French towns that looked like they were straight out of Disney's Beauty and the Beast. It was amazing.

We decided to have a nicer lunch since our diet of nutella, peanut butter, honey and apples was starting to wear our stomachs. We stopped at Carrefour, bought some deli meet, baguettes, cheese, and chips. It might have been one of the best lunches I ever had.

Amy decided to take a nap after lunch


We had some bike trouble with Amy's front derailer, so we picked a town nearby on the map and hoped that they would have a bike shop. The town we chose was Rocamadour, and we had no idea what we had in store.

We had a few good climbs, some windy roads, and then we crested a hill and saw this:


Excuse my language, but holy shit. Rocamadour is my favorite place that we passed through over the entire trip. It's incredible.


It's also so much cooler when you are not expecting it. Amy was being a little bitter and making funny comments about how other touristy people didn't deserve to be there since they flew in and took cars to get there. Apparently they don't appreciate it enough...

No bike shop. But I didn't care. There is one nearby in Soullac that we will be able to hit in the morning.

A new perspective
things pass slowly as we ride
soaking it all in

Day 21 - April 10th - Hot

Some hot and hilly riding in the afternoon really wiped us out. We spent a good deal of time trying to find a church for a Saturday night mass or one nearby that we could stop at the next morning. Everyone was very helpful and we ended up camping in St. Germaines les Belles, about 30 miles from a nice cathedral in St. Leonard de Noblat.

A nice sign to see


Le soleil, a friend
forgotten. Relentless beams
draining but so nice

Day 22 - We get tired

Rode the 30km to St. Leonard de Noblat for a 10:30 mass. Amy and Bianca enjoyed a service while Dale and I enjoyed coffee and a boulangerie. We hit a pretty serious headwind in the afternoon and we were all more wiped from yesterday than we realized. The sun can be draining.

Lunch naps


I also have started losing sleep because my stomach is pretty messed up from all the food we've been eating. We have been eating more than 10,000 calories every day, and there isn't too much variety in the food groups. My body is not happy with me.

We decided to cut things short and we stopped at 4:30 at a campsite on a little lake. i took an hour long nap on the group, had an early dinner, and went to bed around 8 o'clock. I needed it.

I've started to notice that Amy sleeps everywhere she can




We enjoyed a nice sunset on the lake, eating oreos and not really saying too much. It's the little moments like those that make these trips so great. It's nice to have time to stop and reflect and all that you've been doing. THings are simple and life is good.

Sunset on a lake.
Your own. Alone to enjoy
the moment's beauty

Day 23 - Big day, getting close to Paris - 90+ miles

It felt unbelievably nice to sleep yesterday. We had decided to work hard during the morning and afternoon to make up for slow riding yesterday. We worked well together for about 80km to bring us into La Chatre. We made our way to one of the less remote roads of central France and we were able to book it for about 40km and make it all the way to Isoudon. The roads have become more like veins connecting the isolated and somewhat dying industrial centers of France. Not the greatest night of sleeping as campsites have started to become less frequent. At least it didn't rain.

Arrive in the north
Endlessly straight roads push through
empty open fields

Day 24 - Another big day to Orleans

A fairly boring day of riding, a bit of a headwind, mile after mile where the road never turned even the slightest. I really can't remember too much of the day, I think I just zoned out and pedalled hour after hour. I was ready to get to Paris having left the beauty of the South.

We ended up stopping in the university of Orleans to try to use their computers and it was the most out of place I have felt this entire trip. No luck with internet, oh well. It was raining so we decided to splurge on "Tex Mex" dinner in Orleans. I had an amazingly refreshing Guinness and a big salad. My body thanked me.

Over three weeks now
since I've been in my own bed
the road becomes home

Day 25 - So close to a day off

A leisurely ride, a stop for lunch in Malesherbes, some faffing around, and we arrived in Fontainebleau to stay with a family friend in Thomery. Great place to sleep, five kids, beautiful house, laundry, warm dinner, a shower. It's amazing how much you appreciate these things after three weeks of such low standards of comfort.

Amy finds a place to sleep


Home for the night


Night in Thomery
A warm meal and beds for sleep.
Big thanks to our hosts

Day 26 - Commuter train to Paris


Hopped on a 30 minute train that brought us into central Paris. We learned the hard way how stressful it can be to try to ride in and out of big urban centers. We did not want to mess with Paris traffic.

I was pretty excited as we rode towards the Eiffel Tower, something I'd had in mind as a serious landmark to reach since we began riding through France. More because of it's geographical location than any actual significance of the monument. It was nice, but honestly, not that nice. I really don't like touristy places and I was pretty bothered by the swarms of people. I was wishing we were back on an empty road in Southern France. We got our standard photo in front of the tower, and then went to check into our hostel for the next three nights.



Dear Paris tourists,
please go away for a while
so I can relax

Day 27 - Day off in Paris!

My opinions of the city improved a bit today. It was a bit overwhelming to be thrown into a sprawling urban center after so many days alone on the road. There were many museums that I was really excited to see and despite the drooling tourists with their cameras blocking the galleries, I still had a great time.

The four of us decided to split up and do our own thing. We needed some time away from one another.

First, obviously, the Louvre. Was there when it opened at 9:30 to avoid the crowds. The Louvre is unbelievable, I was absolutely blown away by the collection of art in the miles of galleries. There were rooms that were filled floor to ceiling with weeks of art history classes, I couldn't believe it. I couldn't help grinning when I was in the room with many of the Gericault and Delacroix paintings from revolutionary France. The Raft of the Medusa is SO cool. Definitely my favorite thing in the whole museum. I was also pretty blown away by the David and Ingres room. Some seriously impressive pieces of art. Didn't bother trying to see the Mona Lisa, couldn't be less interested.



Went to the Touilleries garden after buying some lunch goodies from a supermarket. Shacked up in a chair next to a fountain and read for about three hours in the sun. It was exactly what I wanted.


After some reading I was eager to go see the Turner exhibit at the Grand Palais, having missed it when it was at the Tate in London. Turner is incredible and it was a very well organized exhibit. Really really happy that I went to this.

Drank some wine in a park, went out for some sushi and crepes, and called it an early night.



Day 28 - Another day in Paris

Split up again for the day, each of us having our own agenda for what we wanted to see and do.

I started my day at the Musee d'Orsay, another incredible museum with a ridiculously impressive collection of impressionist/post-impressionist paintings. For me, the most impressive painting in the whole gallery was Courbet's Burial at Ornans, an enormous realist painting of a rural burial scene. So cool.

Followed that with a visit to the Rodin museum, one that I was eager to see and had heard great things about. Rodin is amazing and the museum is set up in a great way. I took an hour long nap in the Rodin garden and then moved to the Luxembourg gardens for afternoon wine and cheese with some Williams friends who were in Paris for the year.





Went to a mass in Notre Dame in the evening, cooked dinner with a friend of Dale's from home, and had another early night. Really started to enjoy myself in Paris once I found the right things to do.

Notre Dame


No haiku's for these days.

Day 29 + 30 - Making our way to Dieppe

We took another commuter train to Cergy, just north of Paris, and started heading North towards Dieppe to catch an evening ferry on the 19th. Moved along quickly, realized that we were making great time, and took an early night. Made it to Dieppe around lunch time, and pushed our way through the crowds of people at the ferry terminal trying to finagle their way onto a boat since the volanic ash had messed with everyone's flights.

Real happy I was traveling by bike. So much easier when you don't have to rely on other people and public transportation. Though, as I noticed, biking isn't always the most efficient means of travel.

Amy takes another nap


The ferry was nice, I finished reading Wanderer. It felt like an appropriate time considering our trip was coming to an end. We were about 130 miles away from Oxford when we got off the ferry at 9pm, and we were determined to make it all within the next 24-hours. We rode about 20 miles through some heavy mist along the southern coast of England and threw up our tents in a field on the side of the road.

Riding on the left side of the road was terrifying.

Day 31 - Back to Oxford!



We woke up with the sun at 6, had a quick breakfast, and were on our bikes by 7. We shed layers as the sun rose and started to get really excited. Oxford was so close.

It's pretty hard to describe the feeling that I had this day. It was probably the best weather we could have ever asked for - about 60 degrees, clear skies, light breeze. Not the England I remembered. I was probably smiling like an idiot for the entire ride, trying to hold back and not ride too fast knowing that there were over 100 miles to be put in before we made it back. We saw our first sign for Oxford after passing through Reading, took a short break, and then coasted in the last 20-30 miles.

Riding up through the center of Oxford and pulling into the the Exeter quad was an incredible moment. Absolutely worth the nights I slept in wet clothes on piles of hay and the days I had to fix my bike in the pouring rain. You don't feel that way when the going is easy and you don't have to work very hard. I don't know what else I can really say, it's something you have to do for yourself to know what I'm talking about. The four of us definitely knew what everyone else was feeling. We didn't have to say very much.



What an incredible month. Something I will never forget and something that I would recommend to anyone who has the time and the desire.

Time for Trinity Term,
MBG

France!

Wow, it has been a while since I sat down at a computer. France has been incredible and way more biker friendly than Portugal or Spain. And being able to communicate has been unbelievably convenient - I guess all those years of French actual came in Handy.

Brief update from an internet cafe in Pithiviers, getting close to Paris!

Day 14 - Bilbao to San Sebastian

After another broken spoke, the last for a while, Dale and I stopped at our favorite super marcado in all of Europe - El Corte Ingles. Not quite as impressive as the 13 floor store in Lisbon with the groceries in the "sub cave" level, but still an impressive collection of shopping options. You know you have been on the road for a long time when big super markets make your week.

More riding, we see the ocean for the first time in Spain, catch a beautiful sunset in San Sebastian, and then sleep about 10km from the border of France.



El Corte Ingles
Our favorite place to stop
Everything we need

Day 15 - Bienvenue a "Frantzia" (Basque for France)

We crossed the boarder in typical Spain fashion, pouring rain and up a big hill. Another security-less country crossing and a lack of welcome signs, but we knew we were in France when we stopped to enjoy our first boulangerie. We made it to our campsite before noon, did some much needed laundry, took a nap, then went to meet Amy and Bianca at the airport.

These two were pretty stressed out after their travels, both sleep deprived, and in need of a few deep breaths before htiting the road. Planned off day tomorrow was a good call.

Keeping up with the nobody camps in April trend, the woman at the campsite greeted me with "You must be Michael Geary". I guess booking the campsite two days in advance was not necsesary.



In early April
You have you choice in tent sites
Nobody else there

Day 16 - Surf and Sun in Biarritz

The new girls slept for 13 hours and then we went and sat on the beach all day. French bank holiday so nothing was open, standard Europe. Watched a quicksilver surf competition and read a bunch of Sterling Hayden's autobiography called Wanderer. Such a nice day. I had started to think that I would never see the sun again.



French bank holiday.
So we relax on the beach,
read, and watch the surf

More to come from Paris, back on the road for today.

MBG

Spain is Crazy

Not much time to write since Dale and I are about to hit the road, but I had to share a bit of what happened yesterday in Bilbao.

First, everything was closed because of Semana Santa (Holy Week). We biked around the city until we found the party. We sat in one of the main squares and ended up choosing entertainment central for Good Friday. A traveling group of Americans with a variety of talents and non-talents got up on stage and somehow drew a large crowd of Spaniards.

My high of the show: J-Lo from the group gets off stage, crowns four guys in the crowd with village people hats (I happen to be one of these guys), and gives us hula hoops. I throw her the hula hoop when she yells something in Spanish, think my roll in the act is done, and sit back down. I was wrong. I get summoned to the stage with the other three guys as she pulls out a giant poll with four ropes reaching out from the top of the poll. Lots of things were said in Spanish, almost nothing was understood, but I ended up dancing around the poll as J-Lo gave birth to a toy baby, all while she sang my heart will go on from Titanic (some of the only English of the show). The Spaniards loved it, I couldn´t believe it, and after my final bow we decided to take a break from the traveling talent show.



Stuck around and heard some Mongolian Throat singing. Crazzzzzy. I wish I could post videos of that. Youtube it.

Something I have learned: rat tails and mullets are the cool thing to do in Northern Spain. I swear, there is mullet envy among little children. Check out these competing styles on the local youth:


Spain really goes all out for Easter week. Off to San Sebastian and then Francais!

MBG

A Bil bil bil bil bil bil bao

Doesn´t really work for Bar bar bar Ann, but we have been singing it anyway.

Ah yes, back in a warm hostel after some of the most brutal weather I have ever endured. Things were rough, but Dale and I like to think that it gives us perspective. Really makes us appreciate those sunny days and downhills. I´m now in Bilbao, going to try to recap the journey.

First, some photos that have been waiting for upload.

How I felt as we stopped for cafe con leche on our way to the Casa de Alderete. Before knowing what splendor awaited us.


Dale in her palatial room


View of the pool and the side of the house in the AM



Next day as we cross into Spain!



Day 7 - We do the pilgrim thing in Santiago de Compostella

After some relocating (Day 6 Hostel was run by Igor from the Adam´s family and was equipped with an early 1990´s computer) we were ready to hit the city. Without our bikes. We went and saw the cathedral at Santiago de Compostella, where the bones of St. James (one of Christ´s deciples) can be found in the crypt. It is a major pilgrimmage destination and we saw a ton of people who had made month long treks just to get to the cathedral. Pretty amazing to see that.



We relaxed. Drank some cafe con leche, my new favorite spanish phrase. Found a Kebab shop, something Oxford is known for.



And then worried about how we were going to get to Bilbao. We saw the forecast and knew that we were going to need to cut off a few hundred km if we were going to make it in time. Decided on a train to Leon for the next morning.

Those who walk for weeks
And us, merely passing through.
For the cathedral.

Day 8 - We get to Leon and get back on the bikes

So at some point we changed time zones (not sure where and pretty sure that nobody in Spain knows either) and also got hit with daylight savings. 7am felt really really early. But we had a 9:25 train to catch so we needed to pack up.

But of course you can´t take bikes on the 9:25 train and nobody speaks English so there was some confusion and lots of pointing and gesturing. Eventually someone was able to explain to us that we would have to take two trains, connecting in Orense, leaving Santiago at 3pm and getting into Leon around 10.

Great. We were both pretty frustrated and ready to get back on the road. Public transportation was not part of our plan for this vacation. With 5+ hours on our hand we decided to hang out at the local park. After being hustled to buy branches (later realizing it was palm Sunday) we sat and watched the locals enjoy a Sunday afternoon. Hilarious.

Train ride was unbelievably gorgeous. Became a big fan of Northern spain, especially when it´s sunny. Opinions were soon to change.

Ending up biking about 10km after getting into Leon and pitched a tent on the side of a bike path along a river. Nobody bothered us and we were set up for the next morning.

Playground and a gym
watching kids and elderly.
Endlessly funny

Day 9 - Tempest Day

Things started off pretty rough. Big hill to wake our legs up and then the rain started. We decided to pull over at a gas station right before the Spanish monsoon hit. Ordered two cafe con leche and then decided to brave the storm.

At the time I didn´t think the conditions could get any worse. But it was hardly noon and the tempest had yet to arrive. We climbed mountains, descended mountains, got really wet. Stopped again at lunch for some cafe con leches. My haiku for the day was composed on the road:

Dear Spanish Mountains,
We could use a little break.
Warm regards, Mike´s Legs.

Standard signage



After lunch, I broke my fifth spoke of the trip and had to fix it on the side of the road while multiple storms passed over us. Dale huddled under the rain fly of our tent. We rode for another hour or so, stopped for our third round of cafe con leche, and decided to find a place to sleep. High of the day came during this third stop.

High: Watching a woman walk into an automatic door at the supermarcado. Also, I Kissed a Girl was playing while we bought dinner and cerveza. Wonderful.

And we met a nice dog who wanted to eat our food



We were biking through Guardo, Spain when the tempest hit. Someone might as well have been pouring buckets of cold water over us while blowing a fan in our faces. Pretty sure at one point I was pedaling DOWN a hill and moving only 7mph. We saw a dilapidated old building that we could sleep under for shelter. We had to cover the ground in hay to keep off the "mushy goop" and we slept in our wet clothes because we had nothing dry.

Dale´s Haiku for the day:
My toes are freezing
up this relentless mountain.
I dream of coffee

Our humble abode


Day 10 - Sun! and snow

Alarm went off at 7:15, but we kindly ignored that and decided to sleep until we could at least partly see the sun. When we stepped outside we saw mountains covered in snow. It was actually that cold. Beautiful, yes, but not what you want to see when you have to bike all day.

Early morning rest. So cold.



The sun broke through and we finally dried off. Also warmed up a little bit and got to shed a few layers. This was my favorite day of riding to date. Gorgeous mountains capped in snow, roads without cars, and sun. I was SO much happier. I think anything would have made me happy after tempest day.

The mountains that we left behind


The roads were empty so we decided to take breaks on the pavement


We camped at our first legal campsite, paying 13 euro for a plot of land and a luke warm shower. Shower felt so nice, even though I had to sit hunched on a stool (shower head was literally fixed at my stomach). Also, there were over 100 plots for tenting and we were the only people there. I guess March isn´t high season in Arija.

The lowest of lows
give us perspective we need
for the not-so-bad

See our tent in the background. See anyone else?


Day 11 - New best day ever

Dale and I are in the habit of sleeping in. I set my alarm for 7 and hung my watch from a loop on the ceiling of the tent, what I thought was a fool proof system for hearing your alarm. Plan fails when your watch gets blown off the loop by gale force winds and hits you in the face. I was too tired to realize what had happened and we never heard the alarm. More sleep for us.

First 10km were pretty pedestrian, both of us nursing sore knees and legs, but after a short snack break and our morning fix of ibuprofen things turned for the better. We saw a sign for a downhill of 8% - finally. Literally, the next 35 km were all downhill. And there was a tailwind. And it was sunny. According to Dale´s odometer we broke into the mid-40 mph range on one of the descents. wwwwwwooooowwwwww. This part of Spain is stunning and we got to coast our way into Bilabo.

Little photo op:


Good tunes playing while we road down the mountain. Some appropriate lyrics that stuck with me:

Assembly of Dust - Roads
I don´t know where I´m going but I get there. Sometimes I´m wondering where will it be.

And Phish´s cover of Loving Cup, by the Rolling Stones.
Oh, what a beautiful buzz. What a beautiful buzz.

Such a beautiful buzz. Couldn´t help smiling the whole way down. Dale blew our first flat of the trip after over 600 miles of riding. A quick fix and then another 20km or so brought us into Bilbao. Another hot shower (this time standing) and then went to a tapas bar for cerveza and pinchos. Followed that with a hamburger dressed in everything (apparently hot dogs are a topping, didn´t realize that when I ordered the "extra" option).

Some random highlights of our night in Bilbao:

Seeing a man wheeling a crate of 10,000 cigarettes through the Old Town. Seriously?


And witnessing one of the processions as part of the Spanish celebration of Easter. Little kids look like part of some strange religious cult. Dale and I were seriously confused before someone explained what was happening.



And I don´t know where
I´m going, but I get there.
Still wondering where.

Day 12 - Bilbao! No Biking!

Slept in (until 8), had some coffee, iced our aching legs with frozen peas, and walked over to the Guggenheim Bilbao. Such an impressive building by Franky G. Enjoyed our sampling of modern art. The first floor was nice - some Rothko, a Richard Serra installation that we could walk through, de Kooning, Warhol. Your standard mid-20th century stuff. Second floor was all Anish Kapoor. We watched as a 10kg wad of wax was shot out of a cannon at the corner of a room. Interesting. Some monochrome yellow square that receded into a wall. Interesting. Not really so down with Kapoor. Third floor had some winners. A big installation of Robert Rauschenberg Gluts, which consists of a lot recycled junk yard scraps put together in some pretty cool combinations. Some of it was impressive, others a bit too far fetched.

All in all, a great day. Nice to rest our legs, see a beautiful city, and enjoy the sunny weather. Tomorrow is another rest day and then we head off to meet Amy and Bianca in Biarritz for the second half of the trip!

No Haiku yet for today. And I realize that I have been slacking on the high and low. I kind of gave up on that.

The Serra piece titled "The Matter of Time"


View of Frank Gehry´s building


Alive and well and almost in France,
MBG

Santiago de Compostela

Since I have been slacking on the haikus (they arent usually accessible when i get to a computer):

Day 5 -

Mountain roads, Headlamps
Fatigue and anxiety
All ends well tonight

Day 6 - the ??? becomes a hostel in Santiago de Compostela

Dale and I cross into Spain (no security...?) bike over a mountain, take a train, and arrive in Santiago de Compostela. Pictures to follow.

Rocky Spanish train
How sick you make us both feel
I prefer a bike

MBG

Still in Portugal. But oh so close

Day 5 - Porto to Casa de Aldarete

A day when Dale and I get a late start because I have to get a new rack for my bike. We spent some time at the local bike shop and while one of the guys was working on mounting the rack we started talking to a nice Portuguese man who was in the store buying a bike. His English was impressive, turns out he had spent some time as a surgeon in Oxford, Edinburgh, and London. He ended up offering us some beds at his "casa" up towards Valenca, which was a bit further than we planned on going but we told him we would see how far we made it. Equipped with a hand drawn map to his house and a phone number, we headed North out of Porto.

It rained and it rained some more. For team Dale and Mike, knees were sore and spirits were a bit low. At least my bike was working. As usual, we got a bit lost while going through the different cities - pulling out the compass, heading north, and eventually finding our way out. We hit our first mountains of the trip, which brought long slow climbs and worn out break pads after the descents. And the rain continued.

We pulled off for some dinner when it started monsooning around 6:15, had some tasty chicken plus lots of bread and nutella. When the rain let up it was dark and we still had at least 25km to the apparent "casa" of our friend, Dr. Flavio. The people at the cafe laughed when we pointed up the road, they knew something we didn't. I think we climbed for the next hour or so, guided by headlamps and bike lights, and finally we crested the mountain and started to go down. Down meant windy mountain roads and lots of breaking. Morale was a bit low. At least the rain had stopped.

Finally we saw one of the signs on our map that Flavio had drawn. We followed a few of the turns and came to the "Casa de Aldarete". We called the number and Flavio answered, laughing and saying that he thought we were not going to make it. He let us in through the gate and ushered us into the most beautiful place I have ever seen. We entered a room with a fire going for us to dry out our gear. He showed me the guest house where I would be staying with my own kitchen, shower, and bedroom. Dale got the palatial treatment in the real Casa. After showering off and changing, Flavio's wife prepared us a traditional Portuguese meal and let us sample some of the house wine. Yes, they have a family vineyard at the Casa. It was probably the best thing that could have ever happened. They kept forcing food on us, making us drink more wine, and then they let us sleep. I have never slept so well.

Day 6 - Casa de Aldarete to ???

Mid Day 6 right now, at a Biblioteca in Valenca, Portugal. Broke another spoke about one mile into this morning's ride and had to fix that. It has been raining very hard and we are feeling pretty down about the 5-day forecast ahead of us. Rain, rain, and more rain. Looking at some train schedules to possibly avoid rain and cold in the mountains. It is miserable outside.

I want to go back to the Casa de Aldarete and eat more Portuguese food.

Lisboa to Oporto

Updating from the Porto Poet's Hostel, the sister hostel to one that we stayed in while in Lisbon. Great place, great dinner, great company.

Day 1 - Lisbon to Santa Cruz
The day it actually began. Started off cycling along a major road that was closed off for a road race, which ended up being super convenient for us getting out of the city safety. Quick stop at a nice tower on the ocean (see below - Tower of War)


A stop at the Pena National Palace in Sintra to see some 19th century Romanic architecture. The map didn't mention the 6-mile long hill to get to the entrance. I guess that should be assumed when the palace is on top of the "hill" in town. I would describe it as a mixture between Dr. Seuss and Disney World (though I've never been to Disney World)Things were smooth going out of Sintra as we headed west towards the Atlantic. High of day definitely came when we crested a nice hill and came to this vista:
Realized that I am actually biking myself back to Oxford. That's a long ways away, but it's exciting and pretty empowering to know that you can move yourself that far. Well, at least I hope I can.
The rest of the day followed the coastline, which proved to be a lot of up and down with pretty unfavorable winds. Nothing too bad, but a long first day. Rounded out around 80+. Not so sure since Dale's odometer stopped working on the hill to the Palace. We were going that slow. Pretty sure some walkers passed us at one point.
Spent our first night camping on the beach outside Santa Cruz, ignoring the no camping sign and finding a comfortable plot of sand. Great night.

Palace in the clouds
weathered pastels and tiles
Romanticism

Day 2 - Santa Cruz to Marinha Grande

Turns out that Dale and I like to spend our mornings getting lost. Made a team decision to bike for a few miles on a road that had a sign forbidding: bikes, people, cows, and wheelbarrows. We walked away just fine, minus the angry Portuese man who took it upon himself to stop his car on the freeway (100km/hr road), yell things and shake his finger. We got off at the next exit.

Stopped at the beautiful town of Obidos for lunch. I've started to notice that most bigger towns have their own castle/forts built on the highest point of land. Pretty cool. You can see lunch, and the castle on the hill.
Dale and I experiment with the self-timer at the old church that we had lunch at:
As the afternoon progresses, we become more proficient at self-timer photos. A scenic shot on the beach of Nazare.
Home for night two, another no camping sign in the park but it was getting dark and we were tired. Worked out just fine, and there was even a nice stream for rinsing off. Another 80+ miles and a great night of sleep. Sampled some of the local beer with dinner - mini Segres, which we kept cool with our frozen peas that we later used to ice sore legs/knees.

Talking with symbols
"Abrigato", or Thank You
A great phrase to know

Day 3 - Marinha Grande to Aveiros

A rather uneventful day, when we rode about 90 miles, enjoyed a cold coke with lunch, and slept in some industrial swamp lands. Here is a pretty bridge that we passed over.


Flat roads and tail winds
Might as well be all downhill
Thanks for the weather

Day 4 - Aveiros to Porto

A day when we wake up in the pouring rain, skip breakfast to avoid hanging out any longer than we have to in the miserable weather, I break three spokes in the first 5 miles and Dale carries more than 3/4 of our combined weight, we walk our bikes 1km over a road that is being torn apart, and we triumphantly march into Porto. Literally march, the hills are too big to ride up and they are layed with uneven stones. Felt great to take a shower and to have clean clothes for tomorrow.

Repair job on the wheel: fishing line and duct tape held for 42km

Bridge we rode across to enter Porto


Sampling of some of the tile work that we've seen in Portugal. It's all over the place, they love their tiles.

Another hostel
with dinner, beds, warm breakfast
and time to relax

Hopefully updating from Spain in a few days!

MBG