Rodney beat me at our first round of Uno last night. We’d had a drink at the nice bar above the swimming pool at the campsite and I was in fighting form for a quick game, but he slaughtered me, conclusively. There will be a comeback soon and then we’ll see who wins.
Weak from my defeat, I just couldn’t wake up on Sunday morning. I came to a halt. Rodney cycled in to Odeceixe to check out the undulation of the route; I’m very glad he did, I would have been pushing my bike most of the way. I faffed about a bit, sorted toes and cupboards, read a bit, looked at photos and then when the cyclist returned, we lazed by the pool for a couple of hours. I did manage to find some energy for a quick swim in the still chilly pool, but Rodney used the excuse that he had already had plenty of exercise.
Dinner was early so that we could wake me up with an evening walk in to the village. It was a long walk downhill, with a bit of uphill and the only bit of flat was as we walked across the wide bridge over the Rio de Seixe. We walked up the incredibly steep streets to the top of the hill and breathed in the gorgeous view from the old mill near the top.
I’ve decided that I must have some Iberian blood in me because everyone seems to be quite short and I’ve hardly spotted anyone with long legs, I feel rather at home amongst the locals. But I don’t know how they manage to live in such tiny houses. I guess it’s like permanently living in a campervan. We have some friends who wouldn’t be able to get through the front doors without doubling over. Rodney thinks he’s in Hobbit land sometimes and he definitely seems quite tall in Spain and Portugal.
We sat in the main square of the village for a drink, mine was a lovely big glass of fresh oranges juice; the barmaid squeezed eight oranges to fill the glass. While Rodney had the smallest bottle of beer I’ve ever seen, 200ml, it wouldn’t go down well in pubs in Australia or England!! Perhaps the short people around here can’t take too much booze. From there it was then a long uphill dawdle back to the campsite at San Miguel and a good night’s sleep.
On Monday morning we checked out of the really nice campsite and drove to a lay-by near Odeceixe for an al-fresco breakfast. The view down the river valley towards the tiny village of Praia de Odeceixe was beautiful. I could have happily sat there all day; in fact I did try and sketch the view but realised the camera would do a far better job at capturing the vision than my pencil.
We drove up to the cliff above the village, parked Eileen and sauntered down to the beach for another morning of what we do best. It is a lovely beach and the cliffs seem to protect it from the wind, which was a pleasant change after all the wind we’ve been buffeted with recently. The sea was still too cold to dunk more than feet in, but some of the rock pools at the far end of the beach, where the river joined the sea, were much warmer and still beautifully clear. There were quite a few other folk lazing on the beach and a couple of wet-suited surfers, but there seemed a real feeling of silence about the place. There were no shells on the shore line, no seagulls, no litter, or decaying fish. It was as if someone had given the whole place a good spring clean and switched off the sound of the wind. We both fell asleep on our towels.
On the way back uphill to Eileen, we stopped at a little café for small spicy chicken pies; just a palm sized, puff pastry encased, gourmet treat. We also had a plate of fried sweet potato chunks and we followed these up with a scrumptious pasteis de nata. I’ve always liked a Portuguese tart, but the ones here are better than any I’ve had before. We’re going to have to indulge in more of these before we leave Portugal.
Time to hit the road again. So we dumped everything back in Eileen, drove over the cliff tops a bit and then back past Odeceixe and off to the north. Rodney wants to increase the world’s koala population by introducing them to Portugal. On this section of the road, with gum trees lining both sides, and seeing numerous plantation eucalypts, we honestly felt like we could have been driving in Australia. Next time we’ll bring one of those signs that say “Koala for the next 10kms’ and put it up beside the N120; it might confuse the locals and the tourists……hee hee.
Our next planned stop was at Vila Nova de Milfontes, so we only had about 50kms to drive. We drove over the huge bridge above the Rio Mira, through the town and out to the headland at the entry to the estuary. Another “wow!” With the sun shining on the sea, the river, the beaches, the old fort, everything looked gorgeous. We’ll definitely check out this place tomorrow.
Yes, this really is a lovely part of Portugal. We walked around the town and out to the old Fort de San Clemente, which is now covered in ivy, and we were told it’s a hotel, though it didn’t look like anyone was staying there. I collected lots of pebbles as we dawdled slowly along the beach, and from time to time we found a smooth rock to sit on and gaze on the beauty of the surroundings.
When we’d strolled as far as possible, we turned around and wandered back to Restaurante Choupana which looks like an old wooden shack literally built into the sand dunes. The waiter was lovely and helpful, but it was the smart/casual chef who was the best dressed man in the restaurant today. He cooked our mackerel and prawns on the outdoor grill and the smell wafted over us while we waited and salivated. The spitting sounds from the grill mingled perfectly with the sound of the waves nearby. We think we’re giving this place the award for ‘restaurant with the most outstanding view’; and pretty darn good food too…..
We’ve also decided that there seems to be a very laid-back feel to restaurants and cafés in Portugal. If there are customers wandering in, they just keep cooking. In France lunch is between 12pm and 2pm and you can’t really turn up after 1pm, because you have to be out by 2pm. In Portugal we’ve wandered into restaurants as late as 3pm and 3:30pm and they’re still very happy to serve you. And there never seems to be any urgency to finish the meal. It’s a lovely way to float through an afternoon.
It would be nice to eat at the Choupana again, but it’s Rodney’s birthday tomorrow and we’re aiming to head inland towards Evora, plus there’s still so much more of Portugal and Spain to see before we get to France.
