Portugal | Chaos roaming the world

When we got up in the morning, it became clear: The trailer right behind us wasn’t abandoned. Oh no, we had camped right in someone’s “frontyard”. No wonder the voices seemed so close and also so amused last night. So far, nothing moved inside. We decided to pack up and have breakfast somewhere else, feeling very uncomfortable with staying in the spot we were in.

It took us until 8.15am to get ready to go…when we were halted by a closed gate, a closed reception and no one around. Flo suggested to leave 10€ as payment and then just go but the gate turned out to be locked. We couldn’t get the car out. A door for pedestrians was open however so we decided to wander around, looking for a café to have breakfast in. “Pastelaria da Ponte” was exactly the kind of thing we were looking for. It provided much needed coffee, treats and some space to get over the embarrassment that we invaded someone else’s sphere with camping last night.

We were back at 9am, sure that now we definitely could leave. The reception was still closed but miraculously, the gate was now open. Plus, a lady arrived at the same time as we did and she offered to take our payment. So we left. Having at least paid someone.

It was our last day in Portugal. Flo had picked a route through the mountains of the National park as our last bit of route and a pastelaria at the end as well. The drive was scenic and full of surprises. Suddenly everything seemed wetter, lots of green plants and waterfalls around. Number 3 slept through all of it so we just enjoyed the ride.

He woke up when we stopped at the pastelaria. I think, he’s got a motion sensor in his bum or something stupid like that. As soon as we stop, he wakes up. Flo had made sure that it was a decent bakery where we would buy our last pastel de nata but everything looked so good that we ended up buying a little extra as well as bread for our picnic lunch.

It felt like lunch time already so we had an eye out for a good spot. Flo then found a sign pointing to a picnic area. Following the road which turned into a dirt road and then into a rugged dirt road…we decided we must have taken a wrong turn somewhere. But the landscape was beautiful just maybe a bit of shade would be nice for our break. Finally, we arrived at the picnic area which was by a stream with patches of birch trees and…cows. Well, young steers. Luckily, they were a bit away from the benches. I am not sure how interested they’d gotten into our lunch otherwise. We thoroughly enjoyed lunch, ending with an orange as dessert. Number 3 had a language update and does now repeat words. Oranges in particular seem to be to his liking so he often asks for them. For some reason he has decided that they are called “ayah” and cannot be dissuaded despite Flo’s and my best efforts of telling Baby that this is an orange.

Soon after, we crossed the border back into Spain. The border was ridiculous. Just a tiny, single lane bridge with the letter “E” carved into it. We are officially on our way back. It feels weird and also appropriate at the same time. Seriously going to miss pastel de nata though.

The camp ground of choice was close to a National park, not too far from Santiago de Compostela which we want to visit tomorrow. We arrived there at 3pm and looked forward to some planning of what to do on our way back. The camp ground was closed down. Not closed just now, not for the season, no just permanently closed down. The forest was very pretty though and a little river ran next to the road. We shortly discussed what to do and looked up the city camp ground in Santiago de Compostela which was the only other reasonable option. So we drove on for another 50 meters and then Flo turned around. It was 3.30pm now, the optimal time for coffee and tea and we even still had the last pastel de nata with us. So we stopped and had the best coffee break in a prime location just for ourselves. An hour passed, then nearly two. We kept finding reasons why we needed to stay a bit longer: It was so nice here, Number 3 needed to run around and explore a bit longer, the city camp ground was probably ugly and loud so it is better to spend some time here…

Finally, I stated the obvious thing. If we ever wanted to wild camp on this trip, this was probably it. We wouldn’t find a more convenient place or time to do it. It was one of Flo’s not so secret wishes that he wanted to wild camp as we had done on Home to Home. Here was the chance. Probably the only one I would grant him, so he leaped on it.

While exploring the track with Number 3, he came upon the picture perfect camp spot, next to a little waterfall. Other people had used it as a camp spot in the past as there was a little fire pit made of stones and a tiny play hut made out of dry branches.

So we stayed there. For one night off the record.

our gate crashing site
one of the two briges from here
just a great day
green all around, with springs to boot
down there, we camped
a great road as well
one of many waterfalls on the way
we actually crossed the border three times today – portugal – spain – portugal – spain.
more granite formations
reminds me of menhirs
views on the hilltops around, back in portughal
great road through the high mountains
final village in portugal
off road commuter car? Go go Blue George!
Nina loves cows 😉
no time to waste
everybody enjoying our lunch spot
right, finished
Number 3 testing his new skills
Who? Why .. this is for kids?!
I love europe. This is how we leave Portugal
perfect spot for a break, right?
first, some hot beverages
where might this track lead to?
the perfect camp spot!!
With our own private waterfall for the night!
almost cover shot material? It was a great spot, anyway!

It was quite the hard decision to leave this place today. In the end, the lure of our “destination” and the distinct lack of connectivity made the call for us. We took our time. Enough to share breakfast drinks with Lu and Eike, whom we had a great wine filled chat with last night.

We took aim for the very first thing on the Portuguese side recommended in our guidebook: The seaside town of Tavira. The scale has to change now, almost by an order of magnitude. If we do travel by the 100 kilometers, we will rush past most there is to see. Portugal is, ultimately, a small country.

We knew in advance the Algarve coast will be touristy. After the huge pre-season crowds in Andalucia, we did not mind much. Tavira was touristy, but right now still retained this elusive air of authenticity. There are still locals mingling about, out on the streets and the whole affair, though freshly painted and dressed up for the guests, stayed well this side of the Rüdesheim point. We felt good sampling our first custard-hbased bit of pastry and Portuguese coffee. Just enough of a stop gap to bridge the one hour time difference and help us to hold out to lunch.

Another thing was inconveniencing us more as we strolled along the sides of the river: The Lonely Planet for Portugal is from early 2017 vs the 2019 edition Spain guide we carry. In hot spots like this, the “cool places” change at quite the pace, it seems. None of the three food recommendation we steered for were even still in business. After about half an hour of wandering and not wanting to risk it with one of the riverside touts, we headed back for the Pastelaria Tavirense. There we loaded up on savoury pastries and headed off to find a picnic spot on our way to the campground.

Right away, the short distances tripped us up. We skipped the first beach sign only to realise that the next stop will already be the designated campground. Then, Baby dutifully fell asleep in the car, unaware that his nap would have to be cut woefully short. We checked in and had lunch with a sleepy and cranky Linus on our towel sized emplacement.

The mood started to turn. Why did we leave the amazing camp yesterday instead of enjoying it for a while? What are we doing on this 250 emplacement supercamp hell filled with permanent campers? At least the emplacements around us were unoccupied – oh never mind. Noisy ones, with beer, music and impolite kids walking right through our camp to get to the bathrooms. A fence and a rail line separate us from the beach, almost 20 minutes to walk. This is not at all what we were looking for. Shade and the cheapest price of our trip was all that this camp had going for it.

To add to all of this, sleep deprived Number 3 went into a bit of a downward spiral as well. Mozzie bites, two molars breaking through and lack of sleep made him insufferable. He would not sleep, would not eat. We tried to make plans but could all but manage to hold on from resignation.

Dinner was a quick affair, chomping through the worst spaghetti carbonara I ever served. Something needs to change tomorrow.