A sunny Porto Covo

Monday 9 April 2018 - Day 36

We’re still in Porto Covo.  It was a rough night - very strong winds and torrential rain.  When I popped out first thing to buy some bread, the sandy football pitch we were parked on had several large puddles.  I popped into the local cafe to try and buy some rolls but he directed me to the little shop around the corner.  So instead I bought some cakes (for later on) and a quick espresso, stood at the bar; I think that qualified me to purchase some rolls as some freshly baked ones appeared and were offered!  I watched an older guy come in and have his breakfast - a small sweet bun and a bottle of Sagres lager!  

It was fairly cool when we stepped out for a walk around the village, but by the time we’d explored the streets and the small fishing harbour, the sky was clearing and the rest of the day’s been unbroken sunshine. The fishing harbour looked a little sad. It looks unused now but it wasn’t hard to imagine the hustle, bustle and banter of the fishermen as they landed their catch or mended their nets. I have no idea how they entered or left however, as the tidal swell and large breaking waves were literally just outside the small breakwater; I really couldn’t see how a small boat could survive that.

Our walk took us south along a well-signposted coastal path, past several small coves and inlets, many frothing with the bacterial foam that’s constantly being washed ashore, looking like the top of a very frothy coffee. We stopped off at a couple of the beaches to cool our feet and just chill out, before reaching the much larger beach of Ilha do Pessegueiro (Peach Tree Island). The name applies to the mainland beach, another beautiful duned stretch of sand sitting below a small sixteenth-century fort and a restaurant. There’s an island a few hundred metres offshore, with the matching ruins of another fort.  We stopped off at the restaurant for lunch, the only customers on a quiet Monday afternoon. The old lady who served us spoke no English and our Portuguese isn’t much better, but luckily they had an English menu.  We shared two mains of codfish croquettes and fried calamari (large strips of squid rather than the rings normally served), both came with salad, but one with chips and one with rice.  It was delicious but Cathy took the mickey out of me for eating the half and half (chips and rice) combo that I’m always disparaging!   We followed a different marked footpath back to Porto Cove, slightly inland and passing grass verges and fields bursting with a diverse variety of plant-life.  This makes Portugal so much different to Spain, where chemicals seem to have killed off much of the local flora.

Back at the van, we sat in the sunshine with a brew, until the cooling wind drove us inside, although the sun is still shining brightly.  We’re moving on tomorrow, inland for a few days. The weather forecast’s a bit changeable but hopefully we’ll find some interesting and quiet places to explore and stay over.

Nice little houses, but they've never quite finished off

The huge waves breaking just outside the harbour

Frothy bacterial foam

A windy Porto Covo

Sunday 8 April 2018 - Day 35

Nido’s parked up at a new aire in the coastal village of Porto Covo.  It’s been blowing a hooley and raining most of the afternoon, so it’s been read, snooze, cook dinner, eat dinner, wash up, brew.  It’s filling chilly as the wind’s finding it’s way through every nook and cranny in the van.  It looks like we’re stuck with this type of weather for a few days.

We enjoyed our takeaway pizza last night - Cathy had saved a slice which she enjoyed for lunch - I scoffed all of mine in a oner!  We woke quite early and after a quick breakfast of muesli and tea we were on the road.  We had a long chat last night as we weren’t really feeling comfortable with the trip.  Part of this was the culmination of being stuck in the van together for five weeks (the weather’s not been great so we’ve mainly been sitting, cooking and eating inside) but we also agreed we’d been trying to follow guide and aire books too closely.  Towns and cities really aren’t our thing - beaches, countryside, lakes, rivers and hills are.  So we’ve decided to instead aim in a general direction, with a rough area in which to stop for the night, but then follow our noses and see where it takes us.  We’re both feeling a lot happier about this.

As it happens, we’ve ended up staying where we planned to aim for this morning.  On the way we pulled off a couple of times to follow signposts. The first was Praia de Odeceixe - this took us down a bomb-crater road (ie a normal Portuguese B road) to a parking area above the cliffs and small beach.  It wasn’t as dramatic as yesterday’s stop, so we didn’t linger. Onwards up the N120, which is a lovely road, through pine, eucalyptus and cork forests and small hamlets and green fields.  The next stop was Vila Nova de Milfontes, a small coastal village which we guess is full of Lisboetas in the summer - lots of posh shops and big villas - again not for us.  

I’d plugged in a couple of aires in Porto Covo, from my 2015 Camperstops book.  But on arrival we found both closed, replaced by a new aire that was on the village football ground; the goalposts, dugouts and changing rooms are still in place!  I only hope an alternative ground has been provided for the locals.  It’s clearly very new as you can only check in between 0900-1200 and 1500-1800; outside of those hours the entrance is locked.  We paid for two nights (€3 per night) which included servicing but no electric.  We parked up near one of the old football pitch corners, with a view (admittedly between the buildings) of the sea.  Brewed up and lunched, we took advantage of the sunshine to take a walk along the northern coastal path, onto a couple of headlands (waves crashing) and down to a small beach (called Big Beach!) with an expensive restaurant at the bottom of the cliff path.  Back on the top the first of the heavy, windy squalls came in from the sea and we sheltered behind a tall sign.  We hadn’t yet explored the village but with a couple of nights here, there’s time to look around tomorrow (weather permitting!).  Porto Covo clearly had grand plans. This former fishing village has some lovely villas and holiday lets, all radiating off a small central square with a few shops, bars and restaurants, but the financial crash must have hit them hard, as these relatively new builds are small islands in a sea of rough ground, tall grasses and wild flowers.  Some building work is ongoing but I wonder if they’ll ever achieve their vision for the place - such a shame.

We managed about an hour sat outside the van before the cool wind and more rain drove us inside, which is where we’ve been since.  It’s allowed us some contemplation time - in Cathy’s case this was on the bed asleep!  Our first love has always been France.  It’s where we took our first dip in the motorhoming world outside of the UK and we fell for the coast, countryside, variety of landscape, food and wine.  France is such an easy place to travel in a campervan - nearly every town and village has an aire.  It’s normally in the middle of the action, mostly well-maintained and quite often free.  Margaret from lovemotorhoming.com wrote a timely and very eloquent post on a similar subject only today, which reflects much of how we feel about France.  In comparison, southern Spanish aires seem to be built on landfill on the edges of an industrial estate.  Portugal’s a little better, but again they’re mostly a bit tatty  and a long walk from anywhere.  So we’re looking forward to getting back to France but really want to give Spain and Portugal a fair chance; we’re particularly looking forward to the north of both countries as I’ve read so many good things about the areas.  I think we’ll like them.  Please bear in mind I’m not ‘dissing’ Spain and Portugal - it’s horses for courses.  But we know what we like and want from this trip and these are my observation based on our likes and dislikes.

Anyway, the van’s being battered side-on by the strong, gusty onshore winds, so back to being rocked to sleep tonight.  No photos today - you’re probably bored of seeing cliffs and wild seas!

The beauty and power of the west coast

Saturday 7 April 2018 - Day 34

We woke to rain but a break in the weather allowed us to get out and quickly explore the area.  There were cliffs all around us with the surf pounding against the rocks from the Atlantic swell, despite there being no wind at all.  Cathy went on a little further while I returned to the van to make us egg and bacon butties for breakfast; she returned just as the heavens opened again.  After some food shopping we drove a few miles out to the dramatic cliff-fringed Cabo de Sao Vicente - Cape St Vincent - which is the most south-western point of mainland Europe.  The Romans called this Promontorium Sacrum and thought the sun plunged nightly into the sea here.  The sunsets here must be amazing.  There’s no health and safety here, with the cliffs plunging about 300 feet down into the Atlantic swell and surf.  There were a few fishermen perched on the cliff edge and they were catching fish!

We followed the west coast heading north.  The countryside here is beautiful - green, rolling hills with a bio-diversity of trees, shrubs and flowers, plus lots of well looked after fields.  We passed through cork forests, small hamlets and rocky coves, where a multitude of campervans of all shapes, sizes and ages rested - this is more our kind of place.  As we drove along we saw the surf in the distance and turned off to Praia da Borderia, a spectacular beach backed by giant dunes, a tiny river (which we waded across) and crashing surf.  It’s a surfers’ paradise; we parked up with the other camper vans and had lunch before crossing the river and walking across the dunes to reach the sea.  The waves were awesome, particularly just to the south and, after walking along the beach, we followed the wooden boardwalk up and over to the headland.  From here we were awestruck by the large Atlantic swell crashing into the rocks, throwing white water hundreds of feet into the air.  Combined with the huge rollers, the energy of the sea was incredible.  It was hard to pull ourselves away, but we walked back to the van and carried on along the coast. Again we detoured off to Praia de Arrifina. Unlike the last place, this was more of a millionaire’s surfing resort - high-end bistros and restaurants - and campervans definitely not welcome.

So onwards a few miles to our final destination today - the town of Aljezur.  It’s set back from the coast and we crossed the bridge (past the main street) and parked by the river.  The more interesting historic centre spreads uphill via a network of steep, narrow cobbled streets.  We walked up these, past the whitewashed cottages to the remains of an 11th Century Moorish castle.  Back to the bottom, it was raining again, so we hid in the van until later when I popped out to a lovely little pizzeria for some takeaway.

We’ve definitely warmed to Portugal.  It’s much greener, softer and friendlier than southern Spain.  The countryside is lush and beautiful and well-cared for and the west coast is simply stunning.  The people also seem friendly and at ease.  

Nido - front row, second from the right

Cape St Vincent

He's inches from a 300ft drop to the sea - and catching bream!

Dunes of Praia de Borderia

The isolated 'Oasis Beach Bar'

It's difficult to tell the size of those waves

Aljezur

Green valleys from the castle

Nido with other vans in the foreground

Rainy Sagres

Friday 6 April 2018 - Day 33

We’re parked up in Sagres, overlooking Henry the Navigator’s Fortaleza.  It’s been raining most of the afternoon, so we’re just chilling out, deciding whether or not we want to go for a walk.  Sagres is a well known surfing town and legs of surfing world championships are held nearby.  The parking area is basically a large car park, which out of season has a few motorhomes parked here.  It’s about 500m from the town.  The weather forecast for the next few days is a bit grim - not just for here but most of Portugal, Spain and southern France.  It’s because of a series of Atlantic lows passing through, slowly heading north.

We had a lazy morning at Mikki’s Place, cleaning the van and prepping to move.  Last night I noticed a motorhome with the streamline - A blonde, a dog and a motorhome - on the back.  A quick Google and I discovered it’s the title of a book written by a lady called Sandie Dunn, travelling with her dog - Rosie.  I downloaded the book from Amazon. It’s not long but it’s a great read and had me laughing out loud in places.  It covers Sandie’s journey to full-timing in her motorhome after taking early retirement and has lots of useful hints and tips for achieving this and buying, equipping and travelling in a motorhome.  This morning I introduced myself and she and Rosie came over for a chat and a coffee (not Rosie, she had water!).  It was a pleasure to meet her and it was clear we had lots in common.  Sandie’s following a similar route back to us, so we may bump into her again.  If you want to read her book - you can download it here.  She also has a Facebook page which includes a short daily blog.

On the way to Sagres we stopped off at one of the many pottery shops along the road.  Cathy wanted some tiles to re-design our fireplace at home; we also bought a couple of long rugs for the van as they’ll be easier to wash and dry than the rubber-backed ones.  We had every intention of eating out for lunch today.  We stopped off at an ‘aire’ in Alvor with the intention of staying the night and walking into town.  However, the ‘aire’ was a large open area of dried mud and sand, with what they may describe as pot-holes but I would describe as bomb-craters!  It didn’t have a nice feel and we’ve always gone on gut instinct when finding somewhere to stay - if it doesn’t feel right we move on. So that’s how we ended up in Sagres.  It was raining hard on arrival so Cathy made lunch and we’ve sat catching up on admin and reading.  I think we’ll head out for a walk shortly - might even ‘hang ten’ with the surfing dudes - what ever that means!  Otherwise, I'd heard of Sagres before as it's a make of beer here in Portugal - when in Sagres.....

Beach Time

Thursday 5 April 2018 - Day 32

We seem to be in an internet black-hole at Mikki’s Place.  Not only doesn’t their wifi work (met with a shrug of their dry-humoured Dutch shoulders) but our phones are struggling to achieve one bar of 2/3G.  No bother, I’ll flash up the Mifi, but even that doesn’t want to play.  I think the Portuguese equivalent of GCHQ are jamming this place (and I don’t mean Bob Marley jamming).  So until we escape the clutches of this EMP take-down, daily blog updates are on hold.  Talking of Bob (and I don’t mean Marley), Cathy has taken to calling me this, coupled with a little snigger.  I’ve finally found out, only by refusing to cook her tea until she told me, that it stands for ‘Baldy Old Bugger’.  The cheek - I’m not old.

Anyway back to today.  I bimbled over to the cafe/bar this morning to buy C some croissants for her breakfast.  There weren’t enough for both of us so I had to put up with dry, dusty muesli and skimmed milk.  I hate skimmed milk; it’s not even milk, it’s wet white stuff pretending to be milk.  It’s my own fault - on our first shopping expedition in Portugal we needed milk and I hadn’t yet worked out what semi-skinned is, so I picked up a carton that looked semi-skimmed (must have been the colour of the carton).  I’ll soldier on until it’s gone (unless it mysteriously gets washed away in the night).  Talking of milk, UHT has come a long way since the days of that disgusting stuff the milkman used to deliver, in a glass bottle with a ‘coke’ lid.  It’s actually OK if chilled-down.

Anyway, back to today.  We broke camp, leaving a table, a clothes airer, a cloth and the levellers on our pitch - OUR PITCH SO KEEP OFF!  I had the co-ords for a car park by a beach at Praia de Marinha, a mere 20 minutes along roads that make the dusty, pit-holed, IED-laden tracks of Helmand Province seem like the top of a billiard table. We arrived to see various signs telling us motorhomes/campervans were not welcome and would be towed away - well FU!.  Off to the next beach at Praia de Benagil, only to find the car parks all had 2m high barriers.  I was starting to suspect they didn’t want our custom.  On the way out we spotted a few motorhomes wild camping just off the road, so turned in and found a lovely spot to park up, surrounded by others. There was some windscreen glass lying around, so clearly the Portuguese Pikies had ‘visited’ other vans in the past to lighten their payload.  Hence the Strikeback Growler alarm was set to stun, the blue LED lights brightly blinking their message of ‘come on then if you think you’re hard enough’.

There was a well marked path that took us from the village of Benagil, heading east along the coastal path.  We passed several fenced-off blowholes and some spectacular cliffs which had been severely eroded over the years.  For the first time in days (or perhaps a whole month), the incessantly strong winds had disappeared and there was very little in the the way of breeze; I’d almost say it was a little too hot for walking!  About 25 minutes in we reached Praia de Marinha, where we initially failed to park.  It was quite busy with tourists who had the audacity to take a week off during the Easter break and crowd out the beach - how very dare they!  We made our way down and spent most of the day enjoying the sunshine and watching various children, parents and bronzed adonis’ being thrown about in the crashing goffers (Navy speak for waves) like clothes in a washing machine.  Oh, how we tittered.  Then we decided we’d give it a try. It started well with a sandy strand-line, but just at the point the waves broke, it was hard and slippery rocks underneath.  Combined with the shallow water, it made for a painful entry into the sea (and even more painful exit, mainly a**e over t*t), but we stuck with it, as the coarse sand stuck to us (only later in the shower would I find how well it had stuck).  Not content with being almost drowned and our skin flayed the first time, we went in later and did it all again. Still, we enjoyed watching the cute little children being knocked over by the huge waves and receding wash, parents (who were seconds before pouting for selfies) frantically grabbing the flailing arms or legs of their little darlings.  Did I tell you about the time we want to watch ‘Chitty Chitty Bang Bang the Musical’.  Out of the whole theatre, only us two cheered when the Child Catcher appeared!  It helped that he was played by Alvin Stardust (RIP), but even then we drew some disapproving looks and tut-tuts.  

The walk back to the van in the hot afternoon sun took longer than I would have liked and we enjoyed the cool breeze driving back to Mikki’s Place, via a quick stop at Aldi (I’m sorry if you’re sat reading this at home in temperatures below 10’C….actually I’m not really sorry!).  Showered and Cathy having dhobyed some clothes, we hung them around the outside of the van and the surrounding lemon trees to dry.  I cooked us chicken fried rice for dinner and we sat outside as the sun set, listening to the cicadas.  The bar was buzzing again with the oldies spending their pensions on hooch, and why not.

We’re moving on tomorrow, probably to a wild camping spot near the sea, before perhaps heading inland for a couple of days for some peace and quiet and walking.

Lemon and bikini tree!

Mikki's Place

Wednesday 4 April 2018 - Day 31

Nido’s parked up at Mikki’s Place near Pêra, a quirky campsite running by a Dutch couple.  It has room for about 150 vans, but it’s so well landscaped with terraced levels, that you wouldn’t know (although it’s nowhere near full).  The pitches are separated by the planting of lemon trees and shrubs, including Rosemary.  Each pitch has a gravelled area for the van and green astro-turf to sit out on.  It’s an eco-site, with reed beds to filter the grey water, which in turn feed a fresh water swimming pool.  They also run a pottery and ceramics school from here, plus a small plant nursery and it looks like further work is ongoing to extend this.  There’s a bar and dining area, which is funkily decorated and well used.  They have a few foodie theme nights each week.  We popped into the bar this evening and it had a good buzz, with mostly Dutch customers, plus some Germans too.  I’m not sure but I think we were the only Brits.

It’s a much friendlier place than our last stop at Manta Rota.  Someone commented on yesterday’s blog that Manta Rota was a bit like being stuck in a nose-to-tail traffic jam on the motorway - I know what they mean.  So we were quite happy to leave this morning.  Although I’d bought a pre-paid motorway toll card, I thought I’d try to get to Mikki’s Place off-piste.  I need to tell you that it’s not a good idea in Portugal to try this!  The roads are dreadful and, in some spots, not much more than a potted dirt track (the equivalent of a B road at home).  It certainly isn’t kind to a campervan, but hopefully we survived with not too much hidden damage.

We arrived here at about 1100 and have spent the day just sitting outside in the hot sunshine reading, although Cathy did wash and scrub all the van carpets, cleaned and washed the van floor.  We managed to cook and eat outside for only the second time this trip.  I think the bar has just closed and the last of the oldie Dutch customers are singing their way back to their vans!  We’re booked in here for a couple of nights and tomorrow we plan to find some of the coves and sandy beaches that this part of the Algarve is famous for, hopefully allowing us to have our first Atlantic swim.  We need to find some quiet unspoilt coastline before we head inland to explore some of the wilder parts of Portugal.

Nice individual pitches

Outside the Cafe/bar

Inside the Cafe/Bar!

Manta Rota

Tuesday 3 April 2018 - Day 30

We’ve moved 20 minutes up the coast to a large aire at Manta Rota.  It takes 100 vans and is pretty much full. Manta Rota is a nice little spot - a mix of old and new single storey houses with the typically narrow streets, with plenty of bars, restaurants and little supermarkets.  A number of vans have clearly been here for a number of weeks, if not months, looking at their pitches. Some have put up permanent windbreaks and have full-size dining tables and even potted plants outside!  OK, it’s fine for a few days’ stopover, but not somewhere I’d want to spend several weeks.  Given it has 100 vans, it’s disappointing to find only one service point and one tap for emptying the loo and filling up with fresh water.  There is electricity but, at €5 per day, we’ll stick to gas and solar thanks.  One of the comments on the Campercontact app made me laugh (and has a grain of truth): "This wonderful place has degenerated into a wretched gypsy camp. More than half of the sites are occupied by permanent campers, who, although electricity is possible, daily ruthlessly run generators and have set up home with front yards. They also determine who stops where. The very unfriendly staff does not care what happens on the court. Very bad!"

The aire is close to the very long white sandy beach; we took a walk along it today, although the incessant Force 5-6 wind made it quite tiring - it’s been non-stop windy for the past three weeks.  However the Atlantic was surprisingly warm and, but for the wind and waves, we’d happily have gone for a swim.

Although there are lots of vans here parked in lines, we still have some space and privacy to put out our chairs and a table; it’s been one of the few times this trip we’ve been able to sit outside during the day.  Cathy did a load of dhobying, which dried nicely on a line strung between the trees (thank you wind!). We walked into town to have a look around and buy some groceries.  The rest of the day was spent either walking on the beach or sitting outside reading.  

Empty and windy beach, but warm Atlantic