We did not find out the particular reason why this beautiful campsite was quite so abandoned. The flow of people confuses us. The price was ok – 22 € with power, so in line with other rustiek sites. Maybe it is our lack of preparation, so that we don’t quite now “where to be” and what to skip. I think we like it better that way – good things are better when they are a surprise.

There are a few more city destinations in this very northwest corner of Portugal that we can tick off, with the first one probably the highest on our list. The plan is to go to up to three of them in order and turn off east to a national park bordering Spain when it gets time to find a place to sleep.

With that, we set our sights on Guimarães – the first capital of Portugal. The way this works is pretty straight forward – Reconquista went north to south, so every 50 years or so the Don de Jour would move his seat of power a bit further down. But this is it – this is where the independent Kingdom of Portugal was sort of born. We liked it right away. In perfect weather, the medieval old town and 15^th century ducal palace were a delight. From afar as in close quarters.

We started with an overview, quite literally this time: There is another one of these steep granite hills just south of the city, with a cable lift and a road to the very top. From here, armed with ice cream, we had a great view of the city and the hills around. We took aim, both for the ducal palace and for a lunch place once we got a handle on Guimarães.

The lunch place was a revelation, maybe the coolest and most child friendly location in Portugal so far. That says something. And it was a vegetarian place to boot! Cor de Tangerine was set in a big beautiful merchant house dominated by granite features and creaky wooden floors right next to the ducal palace. The terrace had a view out over the palace and a park. The food was great, but the whole atmosphere of the location and friendly staff nudged it over the top. Number 3 got a blanket and some books draped under one of the trees on the terrace, in good view. After lunch, he even got a private tour of the kitchen!

The after lunch stroll through the old town was just the thing to round it off. The subtle difference in architecture made for an interesting change, especially with the dominance of the ageless grey granite on many buildings. After a round back to the car park (again, why would I not use them: 1.20€ for a safe and shady spot right in town) we were good to head to our next destination.

Braga, Portugal’s third largest city, had a very different vibe going, modern and lively. We timed it right for once and fell into an inner city set up for the Braga Romana festival: all the girls and some of the ladies were wearing flower circlets on their heads. Many wandering around in more or mostly less authentic roman drab. We, given that it was our tea time stop, were headed for another ice cream shop. A Lonely Planet recommendation, the ice cream was good and Nina did not complain about her chocolate cupcake either. We enjoyed the hustle and bustle around us for a bit, with more (Portuguese) kids than we had seen anywhere else so far around us.

We were good after that, decided to skip city number 3 and head for the hills. A good day was had with the drive towards a campsite at the Cavado river (which is actually a lake, due to the dam built further downstream) not disappointing either.

Things only started to turn weird when I decided to improvise at the last second. Instead of following the GPS to the campground I had picked from google, we turned into the first one at our destination. It had lake views, so why not? Well, it should have ticked us off that no one was at the reception, but rather the team doing some modernisation indicating us to “set right up, register later”. Well, we did, double checking the indicated spot with them: The site was 100 % full with permanent campers, but had a bit of space in front of a rather abandoned looking one. Yes, here … OK. I mean, the spot was nice and all, just weirdly right in front of this old caravan. Then the team started up again, dragging old caravans off their lots to a half-done area. Call for registration never came. Oh well, we’ll pay and leave in the morning then.

About 10 minutes after we went to bed, we heard what I thought to be the trash collectors. Odd, after 8 pm. Well …

And as we were about to drift to sleep, we heard cheerful voices of young men. Closing in. They started to laugh, somewhat disbelieving. Not us. Why would they? Now, they were very close, I had the feeling they were right next to us. But sound is deceiving in a tent. They might be one up, I think I saw people there earlier. Right about then, their cackling and chatting woke up Number 3, who let go a primal scream of fright. Things quieted down after that, but Nina and I were left a bit disconcerted after that. The night had just started, though …

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