clairedavieswriter

There was much to enjoy in Porto, particularly once the weekend crowds had dispersed.

We found relatable graffiti.

We loved the city’s iconic tall, thin, tile-fronted buildings with wrought iron balconies.

And its terracotta roof-scape.

But, tempting though it was, we felt two days might not be sufficient time to enjoy a Tantric Love Spa.

However, for research and medicinal purposes, we weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to sample its most famous export

For completeness, we started with the white…

… and moved on to the tawny and the ruby. All delicious, but if push came to shove, it’s the tawny for me

The restful effect of two days off was only slightly marred by being woken at dawn today by a triple whammy of pouring rain, a diesel generator (reason for which unclear), and the emptying of the district bottle bin, directly outside our window. Fortunately, the rain didn’t bother us much as we pedalled along the north bank of the Douro…

And it disappeared altogether when we turned north

At this point, we’d been congratulating Guillaume for once again choosing the EV1, which had carried us out of Porto on a motley but mostly traffic-free route. Little did I know that the material in the foreground was about to loom large

Portugal loves cobbles. And not just on little old back streets: even quite main roads have them, and they’re still laying them. Frankly, I can’t see an upside: they’re noisier under car tyres (and the friction must use more fuel), while for cyclists and bikes they make for slow, painful and potentially damaging progress. Even the usually stoic Bernard was complaining. So much so, that when Guillaume suggested this cobble-free track, we embraced it with enthusiasm, despite the obvious absence of tarmac

We shouldn’t have been surprised when it turned out to be another of Guillaume’s Great Ideas (sic)

Happily, he redeemed himself later with this lovely section of old railway line

Whose history could still be discerned from the old signs (‘Beware of the trains: stop, listen, look’)

Other highlights today include our beachside morning coffee venue, where we chatted with an American pilgrim to Santiago. When he said he was from West Virginia I managed not to break into song (Country Roads, take me home, to the place I belong…)

A bus stop came in handy again when dark clouds threatened at lunch time (back to sandes de queijo today, in case you’re wondering, but ‘homemade’, com tomate)

We appreciated the elegant stone buildings in the old town of Barcelos (but did I mention the cobbles?)

Bernard was quite impressed by Portugal’s iconic rooster

And after a spell on a busy road at afternoon rush hour, we loved the last mile or so of our day, on this quiet rural lane

Apart from the cobbles…

Which were so bad they even warranted a sign

On the plus side, we never got properly wet, and it was great to be back on the road, bone-shaking sections notwithstanding. Overall, as this Porto graffiti noted, today was ‘A Good Day (and that’s the truth)’