We were about to set off on the final leg of our marathon ride across a great European country. Today would be a hilly day, but first we had time to relax on the terrace outside the hotel before collecting our bikes.
These colourful buildings have been such a feature of our Portuguese odyssey. They bring a vibrancy to almost every village and town. Tavira was no exception.
We were climbing most of the morning, but after ten days on the road we were ready for it. Even better, the pesky headwind that soured much of yesterday’s ride had gone. The headwind gods had taken pity on us after the massive sacrifice we gave on the road to Mértola.
The riding was interesting too, with rivers, hills and at times open fields. I had one final Garmin moment entering the village of São Bartolomeu de Via Glória, following what I thought was the Garmin’s instruction to turn left in the village. A moment of doubt was confirmed when the others, following me, went the other way!
Our final brew stop
After 15 miles, we had our final brew stop of the tour. Gilda had done us proud as usual, with snacks and drinks at a church in the village of São Miguel do Pinheiro.
This was probably my favourite day of the tour. I felt on top form throughout, and I’m sure the lasagne last night helped fuel me through the day. It was a day full of interest, too.
It was a pleasure cycling through Vila Viçosa, with its splendid architecture and historical sights.
We maintained a brisk pace out of town, and were intrigued by the marble quarries that line the road to Bencatel. Like the factory at Elvas yesterday, this was a rare example of industry on the Peak Tours Portugal tour. (One reason we dipped into Spain over the past couple of days was to avoid an industrial centre in Portugal.)
At one point the road was diverted and became an uneven mix of gravel and larger stones. Penny and Steve powered ahead on their gravel bikes, but I joined the others in wheeling my own gravel bike to avoid any risk of punctures or mechanical issues. We were soon back on tarmac.
After just seven miles, we stopped for photos at Alandroal castle. Unfortunately I forgot to restart my Garmin after the photo opportunity, so today’s stats are a little under the true total.
This was the view that greeted me as I drew back the curtains in Marvão this morning. A glorious, misty vista over the borderlands between Portugal and Spain.
Leaving Marvão was effortless, once we were clear of the cobbles. It was a pleasure passing through the town walls, before the easy descent. What a contrast to the climb yesterday afternoon!
Today was the longest day of the tour, and one of the hottest. On paper, it looked one of our easier days, despite the distance, yet I was strangely listless this morning. Initially, I rode with a number of other riders including Dave, Keith and Jane, but in time felt the pace too high and settled back into my own rhythm. After the brew stop at 16 miles, Dave was the only rider anywhere near me.
Dave on the road
One of my favourite moments was seeing a man and woman tending their bucolic land beside the road. I almost took a photo, but decided to respect their privacy. By this stage I realised I’d be cycling on my own a lot, so put on my Shokz headphones to listen to the playlist I created at Alcántara.
The breakfast gods were not smiling on us today, even though we were in a former convent. The most important meal of the day was a meagre affair, and the hotel staff did not replenish supplies when they ran out. This may explain why I ran out of steam in the long session to lunch.
We had a long stretch of open road for much of the morning, with a headwind until we turned right after some 14 miles. I loved this next section. I was cruising along the flat, and built speed to get myself over the regular small rises.
Julia crosses the old bridge after brew stop
Once again, Peak Tours chose a wonderful spot for the morning brew stop, by the side of an old bridge that had been bypassed by a new one. We watched the ever-present bird life as we took a breather.
It was great to see Alec back on the bike after his freak accident (see day 4’s episode) – he was obviously in fine form as he effortlessly passed us on the climb after the brew stop!
I kept with our small group for a few miles, but realised that I’d used up a lot of energy over the first 20 miles. So I settled back into my own pace, stopping every now and again to take a breather. In truth, this was one of my least enjoyable stages of the tour so far, and I was glad to reach lunch at a cafe attached to a petrol station. This may not sound like a recipe for a wonderful lunch, but we all loved it. Good, tasty food, including quirky combinations, such as risotto and fried egg!
It’s a lot easier to leave Monsanto that to arrive, at least by bike. After negotiating the cobbles we were soon freewheeling down the hill past last night’s restaurant, following a rubbish cart.
After five tough first days, today was a delight from start to finish. Once we had finished the descent from Monsanto we had a fast section of road, with views of the mountains that we had skirted yesterday. There were plenty of wild flowers by the roadside, which make cycling in Portugal a visual delight.
This post recounts the fourth day of my Portugal End to End cycle tour with Peak Tours in May 2023. Read day 3: the Douro to Freixinho
Breakfast in a convent!
Our overnight old convent provided a suitably grand venue for a pre-ride breakfast. I wasn’t very organised today, and as everyone else was riding off realised that I hadn’t loaded the route on my Garmin. So I was cycling on my own for most of the first 19 miles to Trancoso.
This was a curiously unsatisfying session.The route followed a dull, main road and I was slowed by a headwind. It got better after I turned off the main road onto a lane through woods and with boulders strewn across the landscape – a feature of northern Portugal. I caught up a few of the others at this stage.
We had a steep climb into Trancoso, which proved an enchanting place, with castle and square inside the town walls. What a lovely place for brew stop! We were surprised to see a male cyclist with a bare chest – but quickly established it wasn’t one of ours!
What was I saying about the Quinta being a tranquil spot? I was rudely awoken at 6am by a train noisily announcing its progress past my chalet!
It wasn’t the only rude awakening. After we set off we were faced with a succession of sharp climbs that set the pattern for a day of climbing. The compensation was the ever-present Douro, as seen above. This was the easiest part of the day’s ride, between the early climbs and the big one from 25 miles onwards.
The river wasn’t the only point of interest. The railway that woke me this morning was our constant companion – this would be a lovely way to travel along the Douro, with small diesel engines hauling rakes of coaches. They probably take bikes too!
Interlude at Peso da Régua
It was a shock to come to a larger town, Peso da Régua, where we crossed the Douro on a busy road bridge, before looping back to the river bank. We fancied a coffee, and found a nice restaurant with a terrace overlooking the river, but unfortunately it was closed. Instead, we whiled away a pleasant interlude chatting and watching people walking over the old bridge.
After negotiating the hotel’s cobbled drive, It was a pleasure to freewheel back down the hill to Mondim de Basto to rejoin the Tâmega railway path – even if we all got a bit confused finding the turn up to the old station. (This morning showed me that having the route on a Garmin didn’t always guarantee seamless navigation.)
We were soon heading over the impressive old railway viaduct (above) over the Tâmega that we’d passed under last night. Once again, the old line climbed steadily, with wonderful views over the river and hills. The sight of last night’s hotel showed how steeply we climbed to our destination yesterday.
View from the trail
We cycled past a succession of perfectly preserved old stations, with the added pleasure today of seeing people at work keeping Vila Bouca station tidy, seen below. We even had the fun of cycling through a tunnel!
This post recounts the first day of my Portugal End to End cycle tour with Peak Tours in May 2023.
Porto’s famous Dom Luís I bridge, seen from Vila Nova de Gaia
For once, a major cycling adventure began with a coach ride. After a lovely day in Porto (recorded in this blogpost), I was on my latest Peak Tours cycling holiday, the Portugal End to End.
The ride began from a dam high in the hills near the Spanish border. We had a drink and snacks, and prepared the bikes for a hilly first day’s ride.
Smiles before the miles…
I was concerned that my lack of training would make today a tough one, but was relieved that I was able to pace myself on the initial 10 miles or so. I became familiar with my Garmin pinging to let me know I was in my bottom gear – don’t go looking for a lower one! I’ll never be a great climber, but as always I took pleasure and surprise in seeing how far we’d climbed. (The photo below shows our starting point far below.)
It was a delight to spend a day in Porto before cycling the length of Portugal with Peak Tours. But it was a bittersweet pleasure. Almost a year ago, I spent an anxious 12 hours overnight in the city on my mission to rescue my late father from a hospital in Vigo, Spain.
I took a tram to Campanhã station to retrace my steps that fateful morning in June 2022. Here’s how I recorded the experience at the time:
I was relieved to see the train on the departure board at Porto’s Campanhã station. I joined a huddle of others – mainly Canadian – and waited on platform 13. New departure times kept being shown. Then, alarmingly, the train disappeared from the board. I realised to my horror that it had been cancelled. The only other train was that night! Another realisation – I’d seen just one train. Just as in Britain, the Portuguese rail workers were on strike. That would explain the TV cameras I’d seen. But unlike at home not a single poster or announcement warned travellers.
Plan B was called for. I walked back to my hotel and was told there was a coach leaving Porto for Vigo at 10.25am. I set off again for the coach station, dragging my uncomplaining wheelie bag behind me. Suddenly, a light drizzle became a downpour that even South Wales would be proud of. Seeing everyone else wielding umbrellas, I popped into a pharmacy asking if they sold them. Nope. I’d just have to get wet.
But there’s wet and there’s drowned in a Portuguese city. As I was sheltering under a modest porch, my phone rang. A Spanish number: I must answer this. It was Dad’s hospital. I spoke to him briefly after a word with Susana, a kindly administrator at his hospital. He didn’t hear a word. But he often doesn’t if I’m sitting opposite him nursing a beer. I said I was on my way to Vigo, sounding more confident than I was feeling.
I arrived at a bus station that made Cardiff’s grotty, long-demolished 1970s terminus look classy. No ticket office – thank goodness for the internet. Seeing the shiny Flixbuses, I looked up their website and in seconds was booked on the 10am. Phew! I went for this departure not the 10.25am mentioned by the hotel on the assumption that if the 10am didn’t turn up I had a second option. But wait! Google told me to set off now as the departure point was a 15 minute drive! I’d chosen the wrong departure point. I was relieved to find changing the booking to the 10.25 was a click away.
I was soon departing Porto, admiring the spectacular bridges over the Douro, including a disused railway bridge designed by Gustav Eiffel. I was relieved when we passed the airport as that confirmed I was going in the right direction. Crossing the Spanish border was another reassuring moment during a morning that had been short of reassurance.
I walked up the hill to the metro station opposite last year’s hotel, heading into the city centre by tram rather than on foot.
Destination 2022: the coach station from which I finally departed for Vigo, and cafe
On this lovely sunny day, I felt a few shivers as I found the coach station, and the cafe where I grabbed a much needed coffee as I waited for the Flixbus coach to Vigo. I felt I had laid a ghost to rest and was now able to enjoy being a tourist in this lovely city.
Ertblog 