Cycling to Lisbon

The plan is to cycle the Atlantic cost of Portugal from Albufeira to Lisbon. A bike was rented from Bikesur in Albufeira to be returned to a partner shop in Lisbon 7 days later. I'll add to the photos as the trip progresses.

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Today I pick up the bike from Bikesul in Albufeira. I had a breakfast of yogurt and banana in the room. No coffee this morning. I caught a bus (paid cash on the bus) just a couple of blocks from the hotel and after a nice tour of Albufeira and a couple of other towns in the area was deposited at the Algarve Shopping mall and a very short walk to the bike shop. Amazingly, the two lane road I had to cross was jam packed and it must have taken me 5 minutes to obtain a safe opening. (I'm not sure this is the best place for a bike shop! It's very difficult to ride to or from the shop.) The bike shop folks were very friendly. They provided the bike with an extra innertube, tire irons, small tool, lock, water bottle and helmet. I loaded up and went about 200 meters before stopping. The gear storage arrangement needed modifications. I believe I stopped to make adjustments about four times before I finding a suitable setup.

I was following a route created using Gaiagps. I quickly started to improvise as Gaia took me down dirt roads and roads with locked gates or impassable situations. Riding on the main roads was scary because the cars drive fast and sometimes you just have to take the lane because of curbing or guardrails. I crossed a couple of bridges and cars behind just had to wait. Many parts of Portugal are extremely pedestrian friendly, but then there are times pedestrians and bicyclists seem to be excluded alltogether. Drivers were almost always patient and courteous inclined to give me plenty of space when it was available.

I managed to take routes a couple of times that required I backtrack. Fortunately one doesn't go far before figuring it out, but there was once that it involved a bit of hillclimbing. There are so many little roads and roundabouts with multiple exits that I found myself stopping every block or two at times to check the map. The process really slowed me down and breaks any cycling rythm one can find with 20kg on your back.

I just happened to ride past a heron rookery 7 km east of Lagos! Folks were stopping to watch them and some were taking photos. I spent a little time watching them myself.

The route took me on major highways but also down cobblestone alleys. There were a couple of stretches of dirt road. And many of the roads a single track meaning just one lane with no shoulder. Cooperation between car and cyclists happened many times. I'm hoping that once I'm off this southern Algarve tourist mecca the navigating simplifies and the roads are less crowded.

I covered 35 miles today as day 1 of 7 days. This would be a piece of cake at home, but with the 20kg load on my back I'm not confident my body will hold out for the entire trip to Lisbon. Time and pedalling will tell.

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Last night as I was drifting off to sleep decided that I needed to take a taxi from Lagos to Sagres to continue bicycling. This avoided about 18 miles of crowded high riding and would give me flexibility of my body couldn't take a second day of pedaling.

While eating breakfast in the guest house kitchen, I met a young couple from Australia. They'd walk the Fisherman Trail that follows a portion of the Portugal Atlantic cost. After two days of a total of four, they found that they could send their packs ahead in a vehicle to their next hotel for a nominal fee. The hotels arrange for this service. I would enjoy sending my pack ahead, but I don't believe they deliver to campgrounds!

Uber turned out to be cheaper than Bolt so I ordered one. It showed in just a few minutes being driven by a woman dressed to the nines. She had a lace skirt and breasts nearly popping out of a leather jacket. It's 8:30 in the morning!?! I guess sex sells all day long. The two of us were able to load the bike; it helped I'd requested a larger vehicle. She didn't want to drive me to the south end of Sagres near the coast. I guess the extra half mile wouldn't kill me.

I met an English couple on their bikes at the Vicente Lighthouse. They were most helpful providing me a website, eurovelo.com, that has tracks of segments for Route 1 from Lisbon to Sagres. I was able to download the tracks to the Gaiagps app on my phone (I like that app!). This has already made route finding much easier (along with much improved signage). The also happened to host people in southwest England. I may be contacting them in the near future. They've cycled all over the world. They were just finishing up the ride from Lisbon south. They'd planned to do it with American friends, but 2 hours into their ride on of the Americans crashed and broke a shoulder blade - ouch! Something about 47 mph got mentioned - double ouch - too fast for me these days!

I left them at the Vicente Lighthouse and headed north on what turned out to be miles of a bumpy and necessarily slow ride. Here I observed that the prevailing winds may blow south which would be a good reason to ride north to south rather than south to north as I am.

A brief side note on biking this part of Portugal. My future preference would be an upright bike with panniers, full suspension, and perhaps electric. You'd have to pay 3.5 EUR to charge it if camping, but it could give you more time to linger at stops. (I generally felt like I needed to keep moving.) I also decided that carrying extra weight requires cycling slower to manage energy. The goal became to slow down whenever it felt like an anaerobic condition was developing. After all, I would rather go slower and make to Lisbon, than sprint and burn myself out.

I enjoyed a stretch of pavement before Route 1 turned west onto a dirt road. This section was graded and relatively smooth. Except! Every so often for drainage stretches of 15-25 feet were brand new limestone blocks 2-4 inches in size. No way was I attempting to ride across!! Even an experienced rider on a mountain bike would be challenged. I lost count of how many times I walked across one of these sections. The road went up and then down down down to the sea and then up up to provide spectacular view of Atlantic waves crashing into the limestone cliffs.

The route turned north on the pave road again for a short spell. When it again turned west onto dirt I elected to stay on the paved road. I wanted to arrive at a reasonable time. I'm so glad I did as it took me 18 miles before reconnecting. And the dirt route is longer.

Arriving into the town of Aljezur where I'd be staying, a art fair was taking place. I slipped into the grocery store and ended up buy dinner and breakfast items. A few miles further brought me to the Campground Serrao. I pitched the tent and took advantage of the luke warm showers.

Today's ride went well. The equipment configuration works and the iphone even rides on the handle bar bag making route confirmation and picture taking easier. I rode 41.5 miles today and I generally feel ok.

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Today is day three. Last night there were some rowdy loud campers. Both my noise cancelling AirPods and regular earplugs worked wonders. The cool temperatures through the night compelled me wear more clothing. I wished I put the rainfly on to help hold in the warmth. I rose at 7AM but didn't make on the road cycling until about 9:30. Breakfast, morning rituals, and packing just takes time not unlike being on the river.

The sun shone and warmed things up to a comfortable level with just a steady wind to contend with. Again a north to south direction would have been preferable. I chose not to follow the Route map on Gaiagps I'd downloaded yesterday. I wanted to shorten the distance some and those pesky dirt roads are tough on a road bike. Today's route passed mostly agricultural farms. I realized that cork trees are abundant. There are some long needle evergreen trees planted in rows that I have no clue what they get from them. Many long white arched tent structures where often seen and contained all manner of greenhouse plants in pots. I came across a field with an ostrich, some bull cows, and buffalo!?! When I found myself next to trees blocking the wind my speed measurable picked up.

On the major highways motorcycles of passed going in both directions. Being a Sunday, they were out in packs. One rider passed me at a speed that reminded me of the Isle of Man race (If you haven't seen videos of that race, if you do it'll dang near turn your hair gray because of the speeds.). I did experience a few times of catching my breath when cars passed close and fast, but generally the drivers are thoughtful.

The ride down and out near the Zambujeira do Mar beach was tough. The Portuguese keep laying down new road surfaces to deal with. This place had something like cinder blocks laid sideways probably its a stable surface on loose sand. But my it was rough on my posterior! The blocks were laid where it is steep challenging the ability to break. And forget trying to climb on it especially since the grade climbs about like an F-14 fighter jet. Walking up those hills made me realize that walking and riding use different muscle groups; that's a good thing!

I enjoyed lunch overlooking the Atlantic at a restaurant in Zambujeira do Mar. The dish in English was called 'Tomato rice with fried fish'. The fish were fried and some of them were head to tail. One was called 'Hiya' according to the waiter. I don't know the translation, but it was a most unusual white fish. And I've seen plenty diving.

I took a couple mile stretch of Route 1 and it turned out to be partially sand. Ugh! Barely avoiding laying the bike down I uttered a few curse words. I switched back to the major highway risking the speeding drivers for the last leg to Vila Nova de Milfontes.

I picked up more food at the local grocer and settled in at one of the local campgrounds. The warm showers after the rides are nice. The rainfly is on tonight! I can hear young ewes calling in a field adjacent to the campground.

I rode 39.5 miles today. The distance covered over the last three days is approximately half way to Lisbon at about 110miles. Muscles are whining a bit more, but seem to be holding up.

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Snoozed till 7:30 this morning. The sun struck the tent by the time I got out. There must be a farm next to the campground as I awoke to goats with bells, roosters (at 4:15! Early risers the birds), and a donkey calling out. The rainfly felt wet from my exhaling while helping to keep me warm. I enjoyed a breakfast of a banana and yogurt mixed with granola; it's becoming my staple as its quick and easy. I buy the yogurt and banana at a store the night before.

I managed to be on the bike pedaling shortly after 9. Just as I reached the edge of town my mood turned sour. The route was on a single lane dirt road. I could see it would intersect with a paved road in a few miles so I bucked up and went for it. The paved roads still quicken my adrenaline as cars do fly by and there is often zero shoulder and a guardrail immediately on my right. I skipped the next Route 1 turn as it looked to be headed back onto a dirt road. Instead I traveled further on the paved road. This was the first time I'd had lorries passing me. I decided to take a two mile detour to the town of Porto Covo on the coast.

The town is cute and the boardwalk overlooking the ocean was worth the effort. I could see the city of Sines and it's large ports off in the distance. There were many very large vessels anchored offshore. There were also several power plants in the area and windmills as well.

I approached a young guy with a sleeping bag to ask him about the route from Porto Covo toward Sines. He hiked, but thought the route looked to be in good condition. I believe he is German, but spoke English. He is hiking the Fisherman Trail south to Aljezur. He'd hiked 13km in the dark to get out of Sines. We wished each other well and headed off in opposite directions.

I looked for the tourist information office and while doing noticed the Route 1 went down a nicely paved road toward Sines so I cycled off. The wind picked up but the traffic wasn't bad. I reached the main national highway and pulled over to drink water and consult the map - one can never over consult the map!! The spot I picked was a place that vehicles had turned to dirt and rocks being conveniently located just passed a roundabout. While well off the road a lorry pulled off and forward then proceeded to back up until it would have just hit me had I not climbed up the bank a little. I'll never know, but I sense the driver was exercising a little territorial nature toward me.

The road into Sines has a nice wide shoulder - very unusual. Sines has an ancient castle that would have been interesting to learn more about, but it mean a big climb and wasn't on the route. The empty beaches were inviting. I did observe one person in a wetsuit swimming in a protected harbor area. The route passed a gigantic oil transfer terminal. I noticed the workers used bikes to get around the facility. I observed a very large refinery northeast of Sines during the ride.

On the northwest coastal side of Sines the ocean is spectacularly blue with rugged cliffs and crashing waves. I stopped eating the plumb I'd thought I'd lost!

It was at this point that my thoughts about the Route 1 were being elevated. The ride from Milfontes had gone reasonably well. The route map I and and the signage matched up nicely and the road surfaces were suitable for a bike for a change. I had maybe 12 miles left to reach my goal for the day with the expectation that I should be there in about 2 hours or around 3PM. Just as trust grew, Eurovelo and Route 1 turned sinister.

The route directed me to a dirt 'lane' with two tracks that disappeared down a heavily laden sand ravine. I turned around and head back for the paved road thinking I would take the busy and longer road route. Stopping to consult, it became apparent that the road route required entering a motorway - these are forbidden for cycling. I could see not other roads. It seems that the Portuguese planners expect all future travelers will be in vehicles and not walking or bicycling. As a cyclists, there are no roads north from Sines that allow bikes. That sent me back to deal with the sand - argh!

The sand turned out to be only 200 meters before I was just back to the normal bumping, rocking, pothole infested farm road. It did eventually connect up with a paved road, ahh, good. I was starting to follow road signs marking the route. One sent me up and over the motorway but this put me riding east and my destination was only 10 miles north. So I stopped to consult the map again. The Eurovelo track and the road signs didn't match! What to do? I could see the last road sign was newly installed as it had sawdust about it. So I elected to abandon the map and just follow the road signs despite past experiences when the road signs were no more.

No things really got sinister. The road signs were good, but they led me down several miles of farm road, or more precisely, cork forest tree farm roads laden with sand. Now, I'd wanted to see a cork forest up close, but my interest was satiated very quickly! I cursed and sweated in the heat as the route signs kept leading me deeper into the forest and almost always easterly further away from my destination. When it finally emerged, it took me through a tunnel under a motorway and back up on a paved road. I'd spent over two hours wandering on sanding roads through a cork forest. I'd had to walk quite bit of it. One doesn't 'roll' a bike through sand. It feels more like a dragging action. I empathized with the individual that had gone the opposite direction based on the tracks.

The signs continued to point me away from where I wanted to go, so using road maps I had I turned back to the west. My trust in Eurovelo and the people laying out these routes reached a new low. The road I took was delightfully paved...for a few miles. Then it turned to dust and stone and posterior pounding bouncing for many miles.

I was so glad to finally set tire on the city roads of Vila Nova de Santo Andre - a working class town with multistory housing developments. I stopped at the grocery with some of the cheapest prices I've paid yet. A few more miles on paved roads with no shoulders and I reached Parque de Campismo de Santo Andre on the shores of Logon de Santo Andre - a pretty setting.

The hot shower gave plenty of water and a full spray. I selfishly soaked for a long time after the 49 mile grueling ride/walk the day had brought.

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The sun continues to shine on me through this ride. Other than a light steady headwind, the weather has been very pleasant.

Today my goal was Setubal. Another sandy road stretch presented itself almost immediately. I'm learning how ride in to some degree. Fortunately it wasn't long ending at Melides Beach and what appeared to be a motorcycle convention. The cycle from here to Carvalhal was what one would expect - a paved road with about a foot of shoulder. Traffic was light. I passed many cyclists of all styles: a group with a sag wagon, men pumping out the miles, and Americans. There were storks nesting on the top of power poles. I passed miles of evergreen trees clearly planted but unsure their purpose. Some could be used for timber as they were tall and straight. The soil looks to be sand and I wonder how the plants manage.

I chose to take the Eurovelo Route 1 at Carvalhal. You'd think I'd have learned by now. It was interesting to see a canal offsetting agricultural land with numbered gates to flood the field. There were small gardens that men were working as spring moves into summer here. But, the track was built on top of the canal bank and suitable only for a tractor with great tires for sand. Again, yes, again. I struggled most of the way actually managing to pedal most of it, but after about 1-1/2 miles I saw an out and took it. I 'only' had to carry the bike about 100 meters up a hill of very soft dune sand to get to the paved road.

I almost slipped past Comporta and at the last minute turned back to tour the small town. It was lunch time and I didn't perceive and major hurdles to reaching Setubal so I slipped into what turned out to be an upscale restaurant. I ordered a coffee and the waitress had to ask me twice if I was sure. Of course she did, normally coffee is served at the end of a meal. I insisted and she brought it along with a most delicious seafood omelette loaded with mussels and shrimp. Bread, butter, and olives were also provided. My, the meal was the best I've had since setting foot on the Continent! (But I haven't been trying.)

The ferry ride across the estuary to Setubal took about 15 minutes. I ended up walking along the very packed beach walk. It was a party atmosphere.

Back on the bike, the short ride climbed steeply and dropped fast around sharp turns. Motorcycles were racing and there were many cars. I makes me respectful about tomorrows ride which will be all day of this for over 3000ft of elevation gain - more than all the previous days riding. I arrived at Ecoparque de Outao to camp for the night.

The campsite overlooks the estuary with views of Setubal and Troia across the water. I met an older couple from France. We wrestled with English and French a bit. She was riding with a new titanium knee. They are headed south. It took them all day to make the ride I'm doing tomorrow - yikes! He said the Portuguese don't build their roads with switchbacks to reduce the grade - just straight up. I had to agree.

The ride today surprised me at 41 miles (some of it sittingon the ferry). It seems the distances and times are always longer than expected.

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The theme of today is Gomer Pyle, "Surprise Surprise Suprise". But you'll have to what another day to find out why! Enjoy the pictures. They are posted.

The campgrounds in Portugal offer the American visitor a different experience. Most give the appearance of small trailers permanently parked. Some of the boxy accommodations sitting feet from the adjacent place might have sprinklers to water plants, garden lighting, fancy stone grills, shrubbery, aging trees, the list of permanence goes on. Some show no evidence of every rolling on wheels across the open countryside. One could see them used as holiday cottages. Other campgrounds do offer spots to park an RV. The cost to plug in for power varies; one place quoted 3.50 EUR. The only free electricity resides in the bathroom to plug in a razor or hairdryer though I saw no one doing so. The campgrounds have showers, toilets, foot washing stations (beach), sinks for hand laundry, and basic sinks for the usual. The quality of the facilities varies. Some toilets styles and the places for your shoes to stand on and the hole to aim for. Others had toilets without the sets - same standing exercise. Some campgrounds provided toilet paper. Other hosts expressed shock at the idea of providing it - come prepared!! The bathroom buildings all had open air structures meaning there were internal walls that terminated about 8 feet up and then were open under a roof; something to be found in the tropics. Tent camping locations at the campgrounds land on the bottom rung of the hierarchy.

The tent campers came from certain niches in society. They were motorcyclists, bicyclists like myself, young happy couples with tiny infants probably thinking they were creating special memories for their first child, and multiple families out to travel and celebrate together.

The previous day as the it grew to a close two groups arrived. They seemed to be male buddies enthralled to catch up. Again, thank heaven for earplugs! One group talked to midnight and the other chatted until sometime between 2:30 and 4:00AM! They were twenty feet distance from my tent.

I awoke with the French. We said bonjour and au revoir in one breath. Concerns alive and well in me got put to the test. The distance was short, but the 3000ft with gear focused my attention. Route 1 stayed near the coast traversing a section Google maps reported as closed - though I questioned that. Instead I decided to head up a small valley away from the coast. The grade was most manageable. Immediately I passed a very large industrial section hidden in the valley appearing to be cement manufacturing. Above that the cool temperatures, trees overhanging the road, and minor traffic created a very nice climb on the bike. I passed homes or rather estates with the essence of being lost in a secret place. Toward the top it became very steep as the Portuguese can do. As I reached the top in the lowest gear and pushing hard a cyclists coming down gave me a thumbs up.

Cresting the top the distant city of Lisbon (Lisboa) came into view. A tear formed in the corners of my eyes in joy that my goal was within sight!

Celebrating I stopped for a coffee, quiche, and pain au chocolat. The patisserie sat in a slightly more affluent neighborhood that celebrated the grapes grown in the area. Thinking I had less than an hour of riding left, I lingered and attended email and accounting items.

My toilet paper supply was gone and I needed some breakfast so the bike was aimed for the nearest grocery store. Unsurprisingly Google maps tried to send me down a one way street. A minor correction solved that. Toilet paper doesn't sell in quantize of just one roll. That's all I wanted. Just one. I left the store with four and pondering what to do with all those rolls. This required a new equipment packing which turned out to work quite well using a Whole Foods shopping bag I'd brought. (This bag turns out to be useful for food, gear, and clothing - who'd have guessed!)

I entered the campground (campismo) I'd researched and off I went. The suspicion level rises when the directions turn me toward a dirt/sand road. The alternative had vehicles traveling at high rates so I gambled and took to the dirt. The route said, 'Moderately flat'. Hardly! An extremely steep downhill andI was faced with a left or a right. Intuition said right and I quickly violated my rule to check the GPS at every corner presented. As the route grew more and more rugged I came to realize I'd made a left that should have been a right. Rather than going back I climbed a rutted tree lined farm something back to the main highway about 300 meters from where I'd left it much more tired and sweating.

The surprises were beginning!

I stuck to the busy paved highway reaching the town of Santana and then turning north and coasting a couple miles downhill to the campismo. Foraging for my passport - identification required - a lady stuck her head out the entrance window saying in Portuguese no tents allowed! Ah, the next surprise. She recommended another campismo owned by the same company. I sat there on a patch of artificial grass at the entrance consulting Google. Where to next?

Adding miles to the next days ride to Lisbon didn't appeal to me, but I selected a coastal campismo in the town of Sesimbra. Spectacular! The closest thing to Italy I've seen. But downhill about 700 feet! I came across the castle Sesimbra. Again, I thought, I'm only a few minutes from coasting downhill to the campismo so I stopped. A short walk uphill brought me to the ruins of a beautiful castle with overlooks of Sesimbra and the Atlantic blue ocean that breathed stupendous. The blue tile work in the cathedral of the last supper was unique. Boarding the bike I continued downhill. Surprise! That road that looked to be downhill decided to climb back up a couple hundred feet. Oh well, that's Portugal. The next section dropped like a bucket on the end of a well rope ending at the coast in Sesimbra. Yeah!

A short tide around the cove and - surprise! The sign to the campismo turned up a hill steeper than what I'd just descended. Tired and hot and with no lower gears walking was the only recourse. Fortunately it was only a couple hundred meters. Nearing the entrance to the campground a lady saw and called out a man's name. (Well I didn't know that until he greeted me.) Surprise! Repairs in progress meant the place remained closed. Hmmmmmmm, (Actually I said a few internal swear words.) this meant I'd have to climb back up 700 feet from the sea's edge to look for the next campismo. The nice man spoke good English and clearly empathized. He gave me phone numbers for the other nearby campground. Sitting down and calling, I found one open and that accepted tent camping. I just needed to arrive before 7PM. It was 3PM, I can do this in four hours. About 100 feet into the climb out of Sesimbra (which I'd love to visit again and spend time relaxing - it's serene.) the energy level in me was dangerously low. I stopped and ate some food in the hot sun. Three and 1/2 hours, I can make it. I just need to get out of this coastal village hole called Sesimbra. I rode until the road turned to dirt and then I walked. I received a friendly wave from the one car that passed me as I trudged pushing the bike a half mile and 600 feet.

Thankfully that was the last surprise of the day. I benefitted from a second view toward the greater urban area of Lisbon. Had I known, I would have planned a layover day at this campismo - Campimeco. The tent sites where shaded overlooking the Atlantic ocean from Lisbon to the south. Shockingly, there were only a few other campers. And they provided toilet paper! (Why'd I buy those four rolls?) The only issue was the shower that drooled like the old man I'm becoming. But the water was hot and endless.

The day's ride turned out to be the shortest at 30 miles, but with 2600 feet of elevation gain. I slept through the night with no neighbors and no need for earplugs.

I noticed posters announcing 25 abril. It's a Portuguese National celebration day from the 25th April 1974 when left-leaning officers conducted a military coup overthrowing the authoritarian Estado Novo regime. It is known as the Carnation Revolution. My guide to Sintra made a reference to Portuguese being peace loving folks that instead of guns put carnations in the end of rifles. That holiday explains all the people visiting the beaches in Setubal the previous day!

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The last day of the ride. The last 20 miles to traverse. Arriving to the bicycle shop Biclas Chiado to return bike before their closing time was the key goal.

There were none of the previous day's surprises. The entire route was paved. The route to the ferry in Lisbon to cross the river (? really a river? - it feels like a bay.) was just what one would expect for a bike ride in the States. Tired with a pack that had lost some adjustments the biggest challenge was whether it was ok to ride in the designated bus lane through Sexial. The area south of the river from Lisbon felt poorer. There is more trash on the road side. At one point a lady was crossing in a crosswalk when an ambulance approached with siren's loud. The lady made no effort to move a little faster and the ambulance waited. It spoke to me of a pursuit for entitlement and a disregard for the suffering of someone likely injured associated with the emergency. This area had that feeling.

At the river ferry crossing I sat and took in the sights. The navigation light tower, the buses and trams, the massive suspension bridge, the tourists and locals arriving or running to catch the ferry, the buildings of Lisbon across the water. When I left, I wasn't sure how this journey on the bike would play out. The trip that felt like an expedition at times focused my thoughts on the tasks at hand distracting my mind from emotional pain.

The ferry queue had a cyclist from Campismeco! He supported my English to say he is from Belgium completing the ride from Faro (further than I road by about 50 miles). His bike design fit what I would desire in the future with full suspension, wide tires, and other nice design elements. He clearly has done this sort of thing before.

I walked/wondered the city after returning the bike back to the guest house in Lisbon. The three miles was longer than I'd done if I'd noticed before I started walking. Many many tourists down near the river and the oldest section of town. I got barked at once for trying to take a shortcut through an exclusive closed block. The receptionists at Chalet D'Avila Guest House spoke wonderful English and made me feel very welcome as they had on my first night in Lisbon. It was a four story climb to my room this time - whew! I got the scoop on a nearby Laundromat and a place for dinner.

Two ladies helped me understand how to operate the washer and dryer - nothing like it in the US.

Then a delicious Whiting fish dinner at a small diner that reminded me of the kind of place the Betty and Murph liked to go to with career waiters and the regular customers and greetings between the two. I like that nicer places provide a large supply of delicious olives and bread (a small fee of course, so if you don't want to pay you need to say no).

Todays ride was 21 miles followed by a 3 mile walk completing the trip back to Lisbon.

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I realize I'm not cycling, but it's just simpler for me to post today here. I'll start a new post tomorrow.

Why am I so tired and sore this morning? Perhaps seven days on a bike marks my limit.

I decided I wanted a few more Euros despite everywhere excepting a credit card. I read that some places away from the urban centers don't like foreign credit cards. The credit card TAP feature functions much better than the chip or magnetic card (actually have used it). Using the chip usually requires a signature and takes longer to complete the transaction or fails. TAPping works fast and easy. I'll have to educate myself on how it works. TAPping works to buy Metro tickets, train tickets, the mercado (grocery store), and at restaurants.

I bought a day (24hr) Metro pass since I can use it tomorrow in traveling to the Lisbon Oriente train station. Turns out I used it several times today so it was well worth the 7.10 EUR cost. The first Metro ticket machine I used kept failing. Growing suspicious my card was being rejected I tried cash. The machine took my 10 Euro bill and gave me 10 Euros in coins as change. An adjacent machine worked fine with the credit card.

Making my way to the Cais Do Sodre station I chatted with two ticket offices before finding the third and correct one. You see, the Eurail Pass in Portugal requires one go to a ticket office to make a reservation which costs 5-10 Euro. In this day and age when the phone seems to access everything, in Portugal you must find a human to conduct the transaction - old school.

A young woman approached me in the station because I'm sure I look like an obvious tourist with my phone, water bottle, and funky hat. She spoke very good English with an accent. Showing me her phone with Google directions she asked me if the one particular leg of her journey was a bus or a train. She added that the train she was going to ride was canceled due to the rail strike in Portugal. I told her it looked like a bus number and pointed her toward bus stands. (Fortunately, later I saw I was correct.) The strike comment made me a bit nervous, but the trains I needed appear unaffected.

Now with no plans I remembered seeing a charming yellow tram yesterday and thought that would be a fun thing to do. I found the boarding spot for Tram 28 a USNews top sightseeing recommendation. I stood in a queue for 1-1/2hrs - dumb I know. I finally boarded by accepting to stand even though it was awkward to see out. The day Metro ticket worked by tapping the reader on the tram. Tram 28 isn't a tourist ride, it's part of the Lisbon public transportation system. You wouldn't know it though because 95% of the riders were tourists. The locals started squeezing on at the very next stop, the stop after that, and the stop after that. I wasn't seeing anything. I was just becoming increasingly intimate with other tourists and locals. I got off.

Here's where it pays to just walk. I stumbled across the Funicular Lavra. A short ride up a narrow steep path. The day Metro card worked. The operator was board beyond belief studying his phone with intensity. The short tide took all of 3 minutes and then the car sat there for the next scheduled movement. The ride was cute and it brought a block away from Jardim do Torel. A small park overlooking a beautiful section of Lisbon. One can see the river to the south and the building packed hills to the north. I was shocked looking down to see a beautiful pool with sunbathers free to anyone wanting to refresh themselves.

Heading toward my accommodations, another unusual spot emerged - Jose Tomas de Sousa Martins statue. Piled around its base were small headstones in marble of people that had passed. I've never see anything else like it.