We had a
lovely morning at the camp site and before we left we even got to chat to the owners
one more time. Number 3 patted more dogs and then hung out on the swing for a
while.
To make
this trip east worthwhile, we decided to keep going for one more hour until
Pinhão. It’s the second city in the region called Alto Duoro, the first one
being super touristy. Now, we were in the wine region proper, even if we didn’t
spot Graham’s vineyards. We did however see Sandemann and Taylor’s name pop up
in the landscape.
Pinhão was “on
the wrong side of Rüdesheim” to speak in Flo’s terms. Very touristy still, quite
pricey and really just our point to say goodbye to the river Douro. It was
lunch time though so we sat down to have an underwhelming, expensive meal
somewhere at the riverfront (Flo: I know codfish is a national institution, but
dry, overly salty grilled “cod-loin” is nothing to recommend).
From here
on, we go north until, eventually, we leave Portugal and enter Spain again, in
a couple of days. After lunch, we drove towards a camp ground on the other side
of the Parque natural do Alvão. The park was super pretty again and we were
glad to have come that way.
When we
left again around 4pm, we found another cute café in Mondim de Basto to have
pastel de nata. Again. We have to have them a couple more times before we
leave. 🙂
Afterwards,
we looked for the camp ground. It took us a while to find the signs leading us
there as the navigation was no good in this case. The Quinta do Rio was
probably the closest we have come to a DOC camp site on this trip. And we had
it all to ourselves, no other guests had made their way here. Setting up our roof
tent with a lovely view onto the river, we were wondering why. Is it because
power is limited to solar energy and thus big camper vans are not allowed? Or
simply the fact that you have to actively look for it to find it? Or is it too
rustic for European tastes?
You’d think
that with not much packing required (staying put and not even chairs to be
used) we’d be quick as to get going. Well, no is the answer. Maybe it is the
missing drive of a travel day. We did a bunch of things in the morning, though.
Breakfast no.1, some more blogging preparation and the attempt of a shower. I
say attempt, since the solar heated water reservoir had been thoroughly emptied
by party goers last night.
That was
not the only thing going a bit off script. We had a late start to begin with,
since Number 3 had another bad night – at least he extended official rest time
till 8 am to compensate. Long story short, it was maybe 11 am by the time we
hit the bus. Good thing we were not going as far today.
We arrived
at Belém only 20 minutes later. The main draw here is a 15th century
monastery, build on the riches of Portugal’s Indian trade routes. It was
actually officially commissioned in honour of Vasco da Gama’s discovery of a
route to said India. Interesting parallels to our last trip come to mind, where
we saw multiple times the other end of that golden age in Timor Leste and Oman.
Before we
would do any of that, though, a spirit boost was in order. The lines in front
of the monastery made us anxious. We wandered a brief while considering our
options and decided on 2nd breakfast and a later lunch in town.
There was another line in Belém full of tourists – the one in front of the
famous pastry shop that claims to have invented the Pastel de Nata, here called
Pastel de Belém. But we skipped the line for the much better option of sitting
down inside the labyrinthine place and getting served our pastel and coffee
like proper people. They were good – but a place that churns out maybe 10,000
of them in a day can only do so much. It was worth it for the crazy atmosphere.
With enough
sugar and caffeine in our bellies, we were ready for the lines – and they were
gone. Somehow we managed to slip into the adjourning church as the very last
two people before it was closed to the public for a wedding. We saw Vasco da
Gama’s grave while the choir already warmed up.
Out again,
we bit our pride and got in line for tickets for the monastery proper. It was
rather late, but we managed to push lunch out. As we stood in line we got tapped
by two ladies telling us that people with little kids can skip the line and go
to the special service counter. We could not yet quite believe it when the
security guy saw us and pulled us out. It was true! In our cheerful mood, we
even thought of looking out for another set of parents in the now much longer
line and made one couple out in the bright noon sun very happy indeed.
The
monastery was impressive, but most is probably told in the pictures. Once we
felt we had taken in the place, it was time for lunch. Something that could
best be come by back in central Lisbon. There would be time on the tram to
figure out the details. After a bit of deliberation, and ruling out a bunch of
places too far out of where we wanted to go, we decided on Indian food. Hey!
First of all, big cities are food free for all, and secondly Portugal has a
colonial history in India. I even ended up going for the Goan speciality (lamb
in tamarind sauce) – it was great!
After that,
we had only one more item on our list: Ginjinha shots! I had seen it yesterday
but felt like this might be not the best idea before gaming, so today it was
on. The drink, apparently first served in the joint we picked (A Ginjinha) is a
super sweet cherry liqueur served with or without a soaked cherry. For some
reason, I managed to talk Nina into a round of 3 pm shots in 28° C heat. It was
decided afterwards that the best next step would be coffee and another bite to
eat. We managed to get offered weed three separate times on the same square in
the space of a minute. Do we look that much in need of a fix?
Coffee was
excellent, but it was time to head home. Days with the little one in the
carrier are tough. Plus, the bus ride is still almost an hour and we had some
blogging to catch up on. All of it worked out surprisingly well.
Still
raining … hm. Ah well. Four weeks are long, but not that long. We have to get
going. The seven stork families and their clattering are still very enjoyable
background sound to our packing up. Évora is next on our little itinerary.
Known for a very well persevered roman temple and a lovely medieval walled old
town. It is actually part of the Unesco heritage list.
We found a
parking spot near the university within the wall – a good spot to explore on
foot – strapped into our gear and faced the ongoing drizzle. It still turned
out a pretty good location. Yet, there was a constant battle going for our
moods between the grey wet drizzle from above and the picturesque sights right
in front of us. We held on, mood wise, and Évora started to evoke other
medieval old towns we have seen in the past. For me, it reminded me most of
Avignon. Recent Carcassonne came to mind as well, although this was bigger and
had a much more lived in feeling compared to the open air tourist attraction
vibe of back then.
Lunch was a
brilliant experience at an all vegetarian place trying to reinvent local
traditional tastes in a vegetarian way. It was buffet style pay-by-weight and
we both overstuffed our plate to make sure we can get a taste of everything.
On our way here, we passed a tantalising window display of an arrangement of pastries. All kinds of tarts, including the mandatory pastel de nata as well as a local treat. The time on our parking ticket ran out, and so we split up. I went to renew the ticket and Nina did some window shopping with Number 3. Once reunited, it was time to tackle the treats! We had one of everything as well and sat down in this barn of a café. It was clear that looks were not what they were going for, but the vibe (and the pastry) were great. We sat right next to grandpa in his break, sipping a coffee and getting a quick round of candy crush in.
It was
still raining when we got on our way to Lisbon. After half an hour, we decided
that arriving was more important than saving some money and we hopped on the
toll motorway. Some tolls we wanted to pay anyway, to get a chance to cross
into town over one of the two colossal bridges connecting the south shore with
Lisbon proper.
Earlier
today, we finally abandoned the idea to switch up accommodation from campground
to cheap room. So we arrived at the dreaded Lisboa Camping & Bungalows –
and the grey sky amplified everything that seems horrible about this place.
Overpriced, under maintained and horribly noisy due to two motorways surrounding
it. The things you can get away with for being the only camp in striking
distance of the city centre. A white whale could opt for one of the camper
parkings, but we cannot.
Town really
has to make up for this … at least tomorrow should be the last of this weather.
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