Category Archives: Baby Steps

Day 37 – A fine vintage

Sleep was good – I think. Given our itinerary for today, I shall be excused if I get some of the details wrong. I had the presence of mind to make a reservation for our port wine lodge of choice last night, and the confirmation arrived this morning: 4:15 pm at Graham’s Lodge, English guided tour and tasting. We will get to that …

We got off for a really late start – first some catching up on the blog. Then, we had to wait 20 minutes for the bus (going every 15 minute …). At least it was really quick getting into town. Our starting point was right behind the train station. We figured we could use this to explore further out and up, away from the river, compared to our downward stroll of yesterday.

But first, pastries! We passed a set of the cutest shops, one with great mini versions of some of our favourite pastries. Nina went with mini-pastel de nata and mini-éclair de chocolat. Oh, and given the late start we decided to go straight from here to lunch! The stroll was once again pretty captivating – coming from the Sé (cathedral) down through the narrow winding lanes of Ribeira. There is a lot of construction, mostly renovations, going on all around. But decay is still a dominate feature of this part of town. Empty, half torn down houses and dwellings that evoke Cuba and other former colonial subjects. Ten or twenty years ago, this kind of neighbourhood would probably have been considered a slum. The pressure of money is palpable, but so is the spirit of an active neighbourhood resisting. For now it seems that a balance is struck, resisting total Disney- and gentrification.

Which leads nicely into our lunch spot: A super hip vegan buffet restaurant where the plate & drink combo costs roughly as much as the weekly rent of one of the places two streets over. Sue us, it was still pretty good and super kid friendly to boot. We appreciate a good vegetarian / vegan meal. If there was something to nag on then it would be the slightly too preachy vibe that too often comes with vegan food (the word cleansing was mentioned in the menu).

After lunch, we headed for a triple combo of hipster-geek-history charm. Ticket number 2 on the Lonely Planet for Porto is this neo-gothic bookshop in a very hip part of town. Ever since its rise to next level fame by inspiring J. K. Rowling with its eye-catching twisting staircase and taking some inspiration for the Harry Potter books while working as an English teacher between ‘91 and ’93. Nowadays, it is mostly a tourist attraction, although the 5€ entrance fee are still a valid voucher for any purchase from the solid inventory. We almost did not go due to the line, but once again were singled out with a triple insurance of “baby first” and strict instructions to skip the line. We even met our power-bank helpers from the campground and were able to pass that secret handshake on to them (i.e. use baby to skip line).

Finding a coffee and pastry stop before the tour proved to be a bit more of an obstacle, afterwards. We did however find a hipster enough place to finally get me that haircut that was overdue since probably a month before we left. It was the real deal, complete with other twisted-mustachioed patrons and two guys collapsing in to clean up after walking the whole camino. We also, kind of last minute, find a place where Nina could replenish on much needed sugar and black tea.

It almost got stressful then when we took the bus to get over to the port lodge, with the bus sitting in traffic for a long time. We started early enough though, and made it with 3 minutes to spare. In that excitement, picking the selection for the tasting was done pretty much shooting from the hip. Since I already tried my way all the way up to 30 year old tawny from Graham’s, I felt a change of pace was in order and went with the super premium vintage collection – and Nina with the considerably cheaper premium vintage collection. 60 € for six “shots” – this better be good.

Graham’s was recommended by the Lonely Planet and we noticed why. The whole Lodge was done up recently and just had the perfect feel to it. It was interesting and somewhat strange in a nice kind of way. It looked almost staged, but this was the place where Graham’s branded port is stored to age. 7 million litres of it, actually. I could touch a 100 year old barrel with 30 year old port in it. We were led through the vault, with the oldest bottle in there being from 1864! The guide was great as well. Our worries for going with the brand we knew best were quickly forgotten – and it turned out that most port brands are owned by the same family anyway.

We even managed to not get shamed into feeling too impostery by the well-dressed American tourists occasionally sneering at our hobo-with-baby look. Well, my bills are as green as yours, it turned out and we left half of them behind in the tasting room for the plebs. See, the choice of tasting menu decides the venue. We bought ourselves into the vintage room, sporting as the website says a “feel of a fine private club”. Not even Number 3 had the potential to bring that down all the way. I don’t care – we had an absolute blast, with a detailed introduction of each of or tastings. With the rest of our group sitting with us, we had almost all the offerings on the table. Ultimately, we were really happy with our selection. We would never have bought a bottle of one of these, but being able to sample them was great. The vintage ports are much more like rubys in their character. They are not aged in oak barrels like tawnys and thus retain a lot of their freshness. Yet one could clearly make out the effect of aging in the bottle between the lot we had (I had vintages from 1983, 2000 and 2016, Nina had an LBV, crusted and a vintage 2005). Maybe someday we will go for the ultimate decadence of vintage tawnys (single year oak barrel aged).

We had to buy at least one bottle then – given the extra 10% discount we got from our Porto card to boot. I went with a straight table wine from one of the owners’ vineyards while Nina struck a bargain with a 1982 vintage bottled last year. See, Graham’s is official supplier for the Queen and whenever there is a merry occasion they get a request to bottle some certain vintage. So the 1982 was bottled in 2018 in celebration of Prince Harry’s marriage. What a bloody weird thing to come from simple Portuguese grapes on bad soil.

Is anything after this really still relevant? We had a blast … (ok, one more thing – took the wrong bus and we had to walk off some of our buzz for 2 km to get back to camp).

View onto Ponte De Dom Luis I
Front view of the cathgedral
Seagull on a high perch
Top of a memorial column
Small plaza we stumbled upon
More cool street art
Cool little alleys, lots of decay
Flo really liked this building
What an amazing stair case!
And many people taking pictures
Looking at books to purchase
Glass-stained ceiling in the bookstore
Flo and Number 3 on the staircase
Graham’s lodge
In the wine cellar
Giant casks
Stacked barrels
Close-up barrels
Ledger in the cellar
The oldest bottle is from 1864!
Port wine tasting
Number 3 was very interested in the glasses but…NOPE
Ruby port
The oldest bottle on sale…for 8600€ or 600€ a glass
View from Graham’s lodge
Close up of the Ponte de Dom Luis I
View onto the South side of the river Douro

Day 36 – Booze town

It was Number 3’s worst night yet. I don’t know, he just woke up and up and up again. In the end, the app said, he had 4.45 hours of sleep that night. If he had that little sleep than I had as little as well.

Groggy, we climbed out of the tent and down the ladder in the morning. But we had breakfast booked at the campsite so we just had to survive packing first. We weren’t as fast as we wanted to be but still took some time to talk to the NZ couple on a motorbike a bit more. Then, we headed out for breakfast.

I knew my expectations shouldn’t have been high and I somehow still managed to be disappointed. Probably by the utter lack of jam for breakfast. Given the choice between cold meats and cheese, I choose something sweet. Thus, Flo was nice enough to get our own jam out of the car so I can have breakfast.

Today’s mission was to get to Porto. Portugal’s second biggest city is our last big ticket item on the list. Probably since Mat and Liz introduced us to port wine and Port Night, going to Porto and tasting port wine became a thing in our minds. And now was the time to do it.

Being so tired we couldn’t be bothered to find a way around the toll road and add extra time to the journey. We just paid the toll and were in Porto in under 2 hours. Before lunch, with a good couple of hours before we needed to find a camp ground for the night. Thus, we started to explore the city.

Parking somewhere on the south bank of the river Douro, we were in walking distance to the inner city. The first thing that we came across was a cable car up a nearby hill. A short check in the guide book told us that it’s a thing to do to get views over the city and river so we hopped into it straight away. A good start already.

From the cable car, we took the amazing bridge over the Douro. On foot. The bridge actually has two levels: The upper one is for the metro and pedestrians taking in the views nowadays, the lower level is for cars, buses and more pedestrians.

On the other side of the river, we realized just how much it reminded us of Wellington. The inner city is walkable without problems, everything is close by actually. It is rather hilly and you go up and down and back up again. And it was just…charming. And compact. Of all the cities we visited lately, Porto is probably the one we liked most. More than Lisbon and Barcelona. It’s just…nice to spend time here.

From the Ponte de Luís I it is about 50 meters to the Sé, Porto’s cathedral. It was lunchtime though and we were hungry. So we went to a hipster restaurant to enjoy some proper food. The waitress shook her head when I told her I’m vegetarian and I had to go with starters and side dishes. We thoroughly enjoyed it anyway. 🙂

After lunch, we stuck to our guns and decided to walk around for the first day as it had worked well for us in Lisbon. The Lonely Planet suggested a walking tour and we stuck to it. A detour to the train station was necessary to change baby’s diaper. So we got to see the artfully hand painted tiles’ in there as well. On Rua da Flores we ended up in a café with more pastel to eat.

But Porto is all about port wine, really. Vila Nova de Gaia on the south bank is full of wine lodges, each sprouting a big name in port wine. Tours and tastings are advertised everywhere, in every shop, every café, every bar. In the chocolate place, I ended up buying a dark chocolate filled with port wine ganache. Made with Graham’s Six Grape port wine.

At 4pm, we headed out to find a camp for the night. Preferably one with a bus connection back into the city so that tomorrow, we could visit a lodge.

The first one was already completely full. Flo dreaded the next one as it had bad ratings on the usual websites. They had space though. It’s a municipal camp ground and they were suckers for bureaucracy. It was the first place that Number 3 needed papers to be allowed to stay. Everywhere else, Flo and my national ID card was enough; here Baby needed his passport.

We rolled our eyes but it did it, went to a patch that looked okay and started to pitch the tent. We had booked electricity for the two compulsory nights so a staff member came by to connect us. When he saw that we wanted to have electricity in a tent, he outright refused to connect us. We never had a problem with this in more than a month of travelling…here, no way. So we were stuck here for two nights and a full day without electricity to charge cell phones, laptops and the camera. Our mood hit rock bottom.

Just when we were debating on leaving again, we got company. One of the fellow campers wanted to have a look into our roof tent. When he learned why we were so upset, he lent us his powerbank to charge our phones at least. Later, he also charged our camera battery in his camper. So kind!

Leaving Coimbra over a bridge
First bridge in Porto
That’s what we plan to do!
And up we go
Me in the cable car
I guess you can feel like a pirate while tasting port wine?
View along the River Doura through Porto
The riverfront promenade
Ponte de Dom Luis I with iots two levels
Pictures on the bridge seem to be the thing to do…
…I rather kept my distance from the not high enough railing
Porto portrait
Graham’s lodge from afar
The side with all the port wine lodges
Lots of graffiti around
So close to the ocean, there are seagulls around
A giant mural
Small alleys
Going uphill
Our bread and olive starter looked like a still life painting
Flo could look into the kitchen and sneakily took some pictures of it
Great little detour to the train station
Statue on one of the fancy buildings around Avenida dos Aliados
Avenida dos Aliados
Still further uphill
Checking out the square next to a church
Cute houses close to the riverfront
The camp ground had a playground…
…Number 3 enjoyed it
Mh, yummy chocolate!

Day 35 – Blurring

Maybe it also has to do with the Dresden Files audio books we are listening to, maybe there is some bleeding effect going on. Or sleep deprivation. Or just travel flow. Whatever it is – things start to, well, blur into each other. Only a day later, it is getting harder to remember the details. Where did we camp again?

Right, the moderately rustiek camp site. It was ok, but with all of them having been exceptionally good, we have gotten a bit spoiled, I guess. Route wise, the choice was between Viseu and Coimbra. There would just not have been a good way to loop in all of it, at least for us. We chose Coimbra, with another stop in between.

Both hands in. Luckily, it was high enough up so that he couldn’t fall in. It’s not for lack of trying.

Well, Piódāo looked like it was along the way. What the bird’s eye view could not show was that we would add about 3 high altitude passes and 1.5 hours to our 180 km journey. It was worth it regardless. Super cute Piódāo sits almost at the end of a very tight, surprisingly wet and fertile valley. The whole valley is dotted with these shale buildings sticking to the steep valley slopes like swift nests. But here, they assemble into this crescendo of quaint out of time-ness. Access to here was limited to donkey trails until the 1970s. Yet, somehow, it caught someone’s eye at the right time and has been restored to be quite the sight. Little rivulets flow next to the steep shale cobblestone streets, fed from many natural wells dotted around. Everything is neatly and tastefully restored.

We could have run into a bit of an issue coming here on a weekend, since it turned out to be quite the weekend trip destination for a lot of Portuguese as well. But once again, our “be first” policy regarding lunch paid off. Number 3 was absolutely delighted to be placed next to a couple of guys on a 6 seater table in the equally quaint and tiny restaurant we picked. He had a bit of everything, scrounging food from everyone at the table and ate like never before. I had excellent goat stew and veges and even Nina got a real lovely lunch after the shock about her vegetarianism wore off, and the lady of the house took over from the little old waiter.

Our resolute “no souvenirs” stance has also started to get kinks in the armour when the village charmed us into a bottle of chestnut liqueur. We are technically on our way back now.

All of this happened and still only half the day was gone. The drive to Piódāo and out towards Coimbra was an attraction in its own right, once again. Nina was less pleased with the great views offered by the no-crash-barrier mountain roads and decided to give sleep a try as well.

We reached Coimbra by teatime and therefore aimed for a café recommendation first. Everybody fell out of the car a bit knackered and we were really looking forward to the coffee. Unfortunately for us, the age of our lonely planet hit us again: The café of the Science Museum has been closed by the authorities almost two years ago. A bit of frustration and steam venting and most importantly map checking later, we decided to try our luck on foot from here.

It turned out to have been a rather good decision. The University is located on a flat hill, based in the former royal palace and then spread out from here. I loved the entire ensemble, including the 20^th century stuff. I guess this is one thing I got from growing up in Frankfurt. Modernism, Bauhaus and the like catch my eye as much as a 17^th century palace, maybe even more so. Some students’ (still in formal robes at this very old university) behaviours puzzled us, but we were too tired to endeavour more. We did find a café in the end, although the pastel were at best tourist quality.

In the end, we even got enough energy back to hop into the old cathedral as the last guests admitted and stroll back to the car while taking in a bit more of the town. Maybe it would deserve more of our focus, be we had not much more to give tonight.

At the campground in town (nothing special really) we got lured by the offer of served breakfast for the next morning coming in at 6 € a head. Our minds wandered off, imagining the time we would be saving and the luxury of being catered for breakfast and ordered it for the two of us.

Later on, we also met only the second pair of overland motorcyclists we had seen so far. I just had to talk to them, given the huge Kiwi sticker next to their Australian licence plate. Turned out they were expat Kiwis and seasonal travellers. We had a good conversation after dinner – unfortunately marred by poor Nina having to tend to Number 3, who had maybe his worst time falling asleep of the entire trip.

Big chunks of vegetation on the hills have burnt down not that long ago
Piodao…
…sits up on a hillside…
Lush valley
Doggy in the village
Number 3 and the flowing water
Both hands in. Luckily, it was high enough up so that he couldn’t fall in. It’s not for lack of trying.
Number 3 was fed by everyone.
Exploring Piodao
Up and up
Even further?
And down again
View onto the village from above
Church Piodao
Looking back
Hard to see but it’s Piodao in the background
Road ahead
Nina really disliked these bends with a drop and no barrier
Coimbra, part of the university
Don Joao
View over Coimbra
Roof of the cathedral
Finally coffee!
Inside the church Coimbra
The adjecent monastery
Number 3 on the loose
By a Flemish master
Coimbra city camp

Day 34 – I see ice on the mountain tops

With our excursion to the east already a success, we now put our eyes on the Parque Natural da Serra da Estrela. It’s a good 2 hour drive to get there so we planned to spend a night in the mountains to fully immerse ourselves.

The drive through the small villages with orange and lemon trees full of fruits was delightful. Quite a lot of houses are for sale so we mused for a while about getting a quinta with an olive grove…you never know.

Before we entered the National Park, we stocked up on groceries and fuel, just to be safe. Coming from the plains, going higher and higher up the mountains was pretty cool already. We stopped at the first view point for exactly those views but it was too close to the road for a lunch stop. So we continued further into the park. Finding the perfect spot proved to be a difficult thing. The next official picnic area was pretty full with a busload of people. Thus, we backtracked a little bit and took a gravel road for a couple of hundred meters until we were just out of sight. Blue George had quite the adventure getting us there. We were happy with the place though it was really cold, when we got out of the car. Really cold. You-can-see-your-own-breath cold. There is no bad weather, just bad gear…we wrapped up in warm clothes and had lunch. Flo decided that since it was so cold, we needed a warm lunch, got out the cooker and fried eggs and sausages.

It made for an epic lunch. Number 3 had a lot of fun running around and examining the pine cones on the ground. One thing was clear after the stop though: We wouldn’t spend the night on the mountain. The altitude of 1600 meters meant that it was 4 degrees at high noon. This time, we really just didn’t have the gear (or the heart/nerves) to camp in minus degrees with Number 3. His nights have been bad enough lately without us adding “being cold” to the list of reasons why he wakes us up.

After lunch, we really enjoyed our drive through the National Park up until the town of Manteigas. The town is on a lower altitude already but was still too cold for us. We went in search of a café but couldn’t find one. Instead we bought baked goods for the road and continued.

The “rustic” camp ground in Gouveia, still an hour away, was our goal for the night. The way out was about as windy as the way in. Filled with great views and great roads for Blue George (and Flo).

At the camp ground, we took it slow. The interrupted nights took a toll on Flo and my energy levels.

Into new adventures…
…in the National park
Looking onto the plains
Hopping back down
Field of granite boulders
Enjoying the ride
Yes, that is definitely a patch of ice
Exploded Blue George
Running and running and runnig
Sausage rolls for lunch
Blue George on his own adventure
Car fun!
This is my view of things
Into the valley
Roadside waterfall
Different valley, now towards Gouveia
It is still pretty here
I wasn’t too keen on the roads with absolutely no guards against falling for a couple of hundred meters
Lookout into the valley
Epic Flo shot
Nina on the rocks
Still having fun
Camp at Gouveia
Silly buggers

Day 33 – Cherry on top

Today was one of those days that we are craving for on our trips. It started a bit low – even though our camp was very nice. But Number 3’s newest software upgrade is a bit labour intense. Him running away without thought or fear made for a rather slapstick packing time. He felt perfectly comfortable walking alone all the way to reception some 100m and 20 stairs up and then be escorted back by the owners when he fell. Somehow, we still managed to cram in a shower for both of us.

The route for today was another matter: There is a recommendation far east which would add at least a day before going to Porto. We are already on our final 10 days in Portugal, based on our rough outline. Will it be worth it? Weather was supposed to get a bit worse again. At the very last minute, I made the call to go east.

Our day improved steadily from there. After crossing over the reservoir lake near Tomar, we drove for about two hours along mostly windy backcountry roads. Good choice to avoid toll roads once more. The weather got better and the landscape wider and dryer the higher we got. We re-upped at a supermarket along the way. That allowed us to have a picnic lunch somewhere off the highway down a lovely track through a pasture.

The sight we’re aiming for was a fortress and village named Monsanto. In my mind, the last 50 km drive through Beira Beixa were a sight of their own already. Gently rolling hills strewn with granite boulders and fieldstones of all sizes. Very rural, with lots of open spaces dotted with eucalyptus, olive, orange and cork trees. There was a campground in the area, but if something would come up – this would probably be the best area for wild camping on our trip so far.

the touching bolders from above, and another granite hill in the back

As the steep hill with Monsanto flowing over its side came into view, we got really excited. We could drive almost all the way up, got a good parking spot and were ready to explore soon. Our goal was to find a nice café and chill with a coffee and pastries and take in the village atmosphere.

It did not work out like that in the best way possible. We started exploring along the excellent signposts and felt like up first would be a good plan. Signs with “touching boulders” and “castle” started to show up. We climbed through the village build organically into the hill and the huge granite boulders strewn about when we sort of popped out on top. From here, it became a little hike through a magnificent granite boulder field. We continued on all the way to the very top. Ruins of previous settlement and the “creative restauration” of a Templar castle waited for us there. The view from the highest point were splendid. This granite hill stands out in an otherwise rather flat landscape. One can see other peaks like this in the distance – used back in the day to build up a defensive chain of fortifications against first Moorish, then Spanish intrusion.

It was getting right time for coffee by the time we were back in the village. We popped into the first place we found inviting and were lead out to one of the coolest terraces we have ever been on. The restaurant was built into a boulder, and the terrace was on the side of another one. Only about 10 seats here, but we got the best spot (in our opinion) overlooking the village and down into the surrounding lands. But the positive surprises did not end here: We ordered our usual, but got interrupted after “pastel” … when they arrived, it turned out that the local speciality is a pastry similar to pastel de nata, but filled with a cherry flavoured custard instead! There were ripe growing cherries right next to our seats as well. It was magnificent!

With spirits soaring, we got back to our car and made our way to the campground nearby. It was a municipal camp, but almost deserted at the moment. We enjoyed the stiff spiel from the civil servant at the reception and were positively surprised one final time when the price came in at 8.90€ – the cheapest stay yet. That made not wild camping go down a bit better for me. We even managed to get a load of washing done before bed time (and before running out of critical … bits).

5 minutes off the road
weird things happen
great way to bring the mood up
there it was – castle and village
all embedded in rolling farmland
out of the car, excercise!
Boulders were integrated into the village all over
already great views, half way up
the high mountains in the bach are our goal for tomorrow
those two came down from 100m above
big and small, strewn all around
the touching bolders from above, and another granite hill in the back
only a little bit up to the castle
chapel for the dead, at one point
no handrail, not for Nina
All the way up, showing Number 3 the world
from the upper yard, views peek over the wall
towards … pastries!
pastries found!
yea, this is cool. Now feed me more pastries!
We do everything but sleeping outside – so there is alway a bit of a gipsy vibe going in our camp

Day 32 – „Baby first!“

Flo didn’t catch on to my cliffhanger there. The spare part arrived safe and sound in the morning of our rest day so that we were relaxed and free to make more plans from thereon out.

Unfortunately, the night brought rather disrupted sleep for us. More crying because of teeth and more applying pain relief gel in the middle of the night.

templar church based on jerusalem temples

Thus, we were rather tired in the morning…and unmotivated to pack. Since we had two options today, we chose the lazy one: Just pack the tent so we have a car to explore Tomar and then come back to the lovely camp ground for one more night. If you like it somewhere, just stay longer. 🙂

We were in Tomar at about 11 o’clock. The sight to see here is the Convento de Cristo, the headquarters of the knights Templar. On the way in, it didn’t seem too busy but there still was a queue for tickets. In sunshine, making it rather hot. Flo decided that we wouldn’t try the “cut the line because of baby” card here as it would be maybe half an hour until we got tickets anyway. I grumbled a bit but ok.

Just when I thought that we might get into trouble with our timing “we will be too late for lunch”, “did we put enough money into our parking ticket, this might take a while”, a member of staff put his head out of the window and yelled “Baby first!” when he saw Flo, followed by a wave of the hand that we should come to the front desk and get tickets. It was quite funny actually. And while my thoughts were still in the queue, we were actually already in the headquarters.

I thoroughly enjoyed our visit there. However, my knowledge about the knights Templar is limited and it felt a bit like visiting a pirate ship. The knights are so prominent in media (movies, games) that I had trouble not imagining it as a set. XD

A bit more than an hour later, we moved on into the city to find a place for lunch. Tomar is a pretty small town and Number 3 enjoyed walking along the cobblestone lanes, charming everyone we passed. He had a “courage upgrade” some time ago and would now roam further away from us and around corners and out of line of sight. Despite being great, it is exhausting as it means, we now have to follow our baby rather than the other way around.

Lunch was lovely. We had a great waiter who entertained Number 3 quite a bit as well as fellow patrons who waved and smiled and played hide and seek with him.

A short stroll through the park later, we went back to the camp ground. A little bit more rest for us before we had another evening of games via skype with our German friends.

maybe I’ll catch this one?
Better chance with twooooo …
cool arrow slits
the incline below the wall is a muslim import
templar church based on jerusalem temples
all about the detail
no sign unread
blue tiles, a 17th century addition
temple in front of monastery
some parts lay in ruin
keen observer
cool decorum
orignal painting in the temple church
upgrades over time pushed this to quite impressive
another austentatiatory
16th century part of the monastery
money buys cool things
movie set decoration
hall of the dormatory
famous window to the churches extension
more love for details
more of the newer part
Nomnom … love chocolate!
light strolls
such a lovely little town
even I like it!
thanks, it was quite pleasant

Day 31 – Like pulling teeth

It is upon us! The rest day is here! So what event to write about a day with the sole purpose of relaxing and refuelling? Well, I will try to keep it brief. It was a lovely day. Of course, with a kid, there might never be such a thing as a perfect day.

The hair in today’s soup was a familiar one: Molar number four (for Number 3)! Sleep was a bit rough and he is just that bit less relaxed and more complain-y. After seeing how wolfishly jagged the other three turned out to be, it is hard to blame him for it. Still … the bipolar alternating between crying and joy takes a bit of the chill out of relaxation.

Don’t get me wrong, there was plenty of that for all of us. Number 3 walked up and down maybe 100 stairs or more, while Nina and I did some light research, blogging and a lot of generally not very much. Oh, yes, and a lot of chook chasing for Number 3. The three resident hens turned out to be of great entertainment value.

Lunch was silky smooth scrambled eggs with caramelized onions. One way I found to prepare eggs even to my liking. We felt we had a good reason to use up all our eggs in storage, since we could restock for 10ct a piece straight from the coop 20m from here.

Oh, we gave the pool another shot with Number 3 – still too cool for him. He was still quite the trooper though, taking shock to the nether regions with only very little screaming. After that, we called it a night with some ice cream and a drink at the bar. Another Portuguese Liqueur called Beirāo. Again, sweet enough that Nina liked it a bit.

Wait, what is going …
CHICKEN!!!!
Wheeee!!!
… gonna get you!! …
… *gack* noooo *gack* …
Ready for the fun!
… “this is … AHHHHHH …”
… “mommy .. toooo cooold” …
gonna fetch you

Day 30 – Waiting for Tomar

So tired. Yesterday was worse for me, Flo feels the full brunt today. :S At least, we know exactly where we’re going to be tonight and that it is probably a nice camp ground. Flo had chosen another Dutch-run camp ground in Tomar for a rest day and campwerk had mailed our spare parts to that camp ground last week. Now, there were only two things: We needed to get there and the spare parts needed to be there.

We got up and away okay. Number 3 had one of his better nights, breakfast and packing went smoothly so we even had a good chat with our British neighbour who was interested in the rooftent.

Our morning stop was Fórnea, a natural amphitheatre. To get to it, we drove through the plains, up into the hills. The road itself was nice already. Fórnea was supposed to be a hike…in our minds…but it turned out to be 300 meters from the road. Those 300 meters were uphill however. It’s still sunny here with temperatures over my comfort zone. The views were pretty spectacular though.

Back at the car, we realized it was already lunch time. Since we liked the road and had enough food for a roadside lunch with us, we continued through the hills, looking for a good picnic spot. A view point over the plains provided just that: Shade and a view. 🙂

The last couple of full-on days had gotten to us. We decided to cut this one short and head towards the camp ground in Tomar. Another stop at a big supermarket to stock up for the next days later, we were on the last stretch. The Pelinos camp ground is lovely. We had quite a bit of luck to get an amazing spot to park our car and pitch the tent. Lots of trees provide much needed shade, we even have enough space for a private sitting area behind our usual set up. There are chickens roaming free, the owners are nice and Number 3 immediately started to explore the whole thing. Only…only the spare parts haven’t arrived.

One can just make out the Atlantic some 40km out
poppy in bloom, always an eyecatcher
The knob on the right is where we are going
the valley behind us was also worth a view – like the fieldstone walls
all that to the smell of wild rosemary and thyme
amphitheater make for good updraft, it seems
Here it – all thats missing is the soprano down below
hard to convey the scale, but it was mighty cool
more views west
He was quite irretated by the 10 butterflies flirting around his head
jo man, nice shades
great picnic spot with a view
checking out the huge ants
hello, hello – anybody there?
one pebble, two pebbles …
we got a new bib – great addition to our gear

Day 29 – last reserve

I don’t even … I mean … soooo tired! Or better just drained. Normally, we would take it slow, but we had decided already to go to another of the lovely rustic campgrounds near Tomar. So this is a travel day. We decided super last minute what we would do and got going later than expected.

By the time we reached Peniche, it was already pretty warm. And reasonably late. Well, at least late enough that we could go for the earliest possible lunch. Once again, we sat down as the first patrons at the Restaurante a Sardinha. An old fishermen’s tavern turned restaurant still known for good grilled seafood. But since it has gone through a good bit of touristification, it also catered a vegetarian dish for Nina. This lunch was a bit of a consolation prise for the reportedly excellent seafood we missed at Ericeira last night. It was good and the rugged old waiter (who looked like he would have never dreamed of catering well off tourists in this place) melting to Number 3’s charms was a sight to behold.

I strong armed exhausted Nina into a bit of a detour around the peninsular. The jagged limestone cliffs and views out to the islands off to the west were worth it. Even so, still a little more fuel out of the tank.

The town is primarily known for its surfer beaches. We decided to give Number 3 one more round in the sand before heading inland for a good while. It was nice but brutal out in the midday sun. Next time, we will have to see to get some kind of shelter packed so that the little one can enjoy the sand for a little while longer.

Knackered we gave it a final push for the day and strolled a bit through the inland town of Óbidos. We managed to sneak in to the medieval old town just before the biggest wave of tourists arrived. That made our little stroll a lot more bearable. Well, actually, we did kind of like it. It was definitively touristy, very much like Carcassonne. The three same things in all shops: Booze (the local version of Ginjiha made from sour cherries), books and chocolate. That’s the things mentioned in the guidebook, that is what you get 😉

In the end, we chose a camp close to the sea – we thought we might get one more shot at this west coast sunset. Turned out it was not close enough, but we were glad nonetheless. Warm showers, cheap and a shady spot for us. Time to rest once more.

Someone is really happy!
And someone really likes potatoes!
A cheeky seagull on a high perch
View onto the fort
A little tunnel connects to the sea
Number 3 further honing his balancing skills
Blue George and the blue ocean (with cliffs)
Rather not have Number 3 climb around on the limestone cliffs
Number 3 greets everyone who passes
Blue George also seems to like the ocean
First picture of Number 3 with his new sunglasses
Finding a good spot to eat is serious buziness
On a Monday, there was just a lone umbrella here
But a whole lot of surfers
Still enjoying the waves
Hey you!
Picturesque Óbidos
Tired Number 3
View from the church
Shots in the sun
Lovely limestone cliffs around the lighthouse
And a good view on Berenga island
Sand walker
Beach flower in bloom

Day 28 – A string of bad decisions

Well, bad is the wrong word as nothing bad happened. Just a couple of annoying situations. But we’ll get to it in time.

Today is Mother’s Day, in Germany at least. In Portugal, it was last weekend but I’m still going with the German date. It is the day we leave Lisbon, a city we really enjoyed and hope to be back in, and a camp ground which was so noisy Flo wore noise-cancelling headphones. It is the day, we pack up and leave to have a second breakfast at Ikea. XD

To be honest, I’ve had the idea when we first arrived and saw the giant “IKEA” sign on the other side of the motorway. So today, after packing up, we went on a bit of a shopping spree. First to Decathlon (brand of big box sporting goods store) to look for shoes and a kid camping chair. Flo’s shoes are thoroughly worn and Number 3 occupies my chair at the moment. It was so hard to get him to eat properly without a chair that we swapped. He’s in my chair, I’m on the chilly bin. A kid-sized camping chair would be better though. We bought none of these things but left with kiddie sunglasses and a new shirt for Flo.

Ikea was the next stop. We’ve been on the road for about a month now and it was great, plain and simple, to walk into an Ikea where just everything is familiar: The layout, the furniture, the restaurant. Breakfast still has a national twist as you can get a pastel de nata, a croissant and a coffee for 1€ here.

Back on the road, we went into exploring mode. Instead of taking an inland route, we cruised along the coastline and saw what Portuguese people do on the weekend…they all flock to the beaches close by. We didn’t stop but I tried to get a couple of pictures of the thousands of umbrellas in the sand.

The road led us to the western most corner of mainland Europe: Cabo da Roca. As could have been expected, the place was full of locals and tourists alike – plus motor bikers to boot. Sweating in their gear, they took pictures in front of the memorial plate, reminding us a LOT of ourselves when we were on the road for a year.

The western-most point of Europe looks a lot like New Zealand actually, just rocks dotting into the sea and then a whole lot of ocean. No seals though. 🙂

After a couple of pictures, we drove off, further inland. Sintra was supposed to be a good stop even if the Lonely Planet warned of masses of tourists. A couple of kilometres on our way, we came past a weekend farmer’s market. There, we bought fresh bread, veges and fruits as well as cheese and jam. Blue George filled to the brim, we stocked up on butter and alcohol-free beer in a small shop and where all set for a roadside lunch.

Which didn’t happen. We just couldn’t find a nice place to stop and it was getting later and later for lunch. And then, we were in Sintra. Sintra is a labyrinth of small roads with most of them being blocked off for everyone except residents. That’s pretty awesome…just not when you are driving through it and the satnav doesn’t know you can’t go where it wants you to go. Plus, everybody and their dog was out and about, blocking roads, stressing from behind when we didn’t know where to go….it was stressful driving.

Also, there wasn’t any recommended café or eatery here, most being expensive or touristy. The next recommended restaurant was another 30 minutes away and we just didn’t have the time to get there. So we made the decision to park and find food here. Not so happy with the choice to begin with, we sat down in the least sucky place and ordered.

It took forever for them to prepare our food. I was just about to dig in when I realized that my spinach quiche, listed under “vegetarian options” on the menu, actually had chicken in it. Bleh! They were apologetic and I got my spinach quiche straight away but the meal was kinda ruined.

By now, we were completely over Sintra. Not to make it even worse I, at least, queued to buy the local sweet treats. Once we acquired them, we hurried back to the car and left.

Only the camp ground was still on our list for today. Ericeira is a surfer’s place so there is a big camp ground there. We actually managed to get in for a decent price and found a lovely place under trees to give us shade.

Putting our washing in proved to be a bit too late. First, you had to walk all the way back to reception to buy a token to wash and it felt like 1 kilometer in 30 degrees and no shade. Then, the washing mashine was occupied. So we hung our washing in the evening, knowing it wouldn’t dry before bedtime. Too bad as we had put most of Number 3’s sleeping stuff into it.

The sun set amazingly over the ocean shining right into our tent. Flo took great shoots of the natural beauty while I fought Baby who was entirely against sleeping in a hot, bright tent. Baby won. He went to bed at 9pm, leaving me exhausted and frustrated.