Thursday 5th - Monday 9th November - Guimaraes to Porto – 80km
We woke to on and off rain. We packed and ate breakfast in the hostel and planned our departure from the town. Following Tuesday’s awful entry into the city we wanted to find less busy roads for our way out. We took the N105 in a south westerly direction, which we would follow due west to the coast and then down the coast into Porto, avoiding the main roads.
We now realise that the strip of land some 80km wide down the western side of Portugal is densely populated and industrial and as a consequence has a lot of traffic. They all seem intent on being the next F1 champion and have little regard for anything like a highway code, let alone bikes. Unlike the Spanish roads, most of the Portuguese roads don’t have a nice wide hard shoulder that can be requisitioned by cyclists.
The road was busy all the way until we got nearer to the coast, but even then on the back roads there was a lot of traffic. To make things worse the back roads down the coast (for 15km) were all cobbled making the riding very uncomfortable and slow. The beaches were impressive with massive Atlantic rollers breaking over the rocks and onto the sandy beaches, but the towns were rundown and unattractive.
The ride into Porto seemed to take forever. We rode through the last town before Porto, Matosinhos, which had an impressive new bridge, other than that not a lot going for it. Once over the bridge, with the help of a local bike shop, we picked up a bike track that took us all along the sea front to the mouth of the Rio Douro. We stopped to take pictures of the Atlantic waves breaking over the lighthouse jetty.
The track continued along the river. By now it was dark and raining (again). It was a struggle to read the map and navigate our way through the one way system and up steep cobbled streets. However, we did manage to find the Pension that was recommended in the RoughGuide which turned out to be clean, reasonably priced and with English speaking staff.
We checked in, exhausted, but quickly showered and went out for a meal in a traditional Portuguese eating house.
The following morning (Friday) it was pouring with rain. Our shoes that we had left on the balcony (because of the smell) were soaking wet. We snuggled under the duvet and didn’t want to get up. We decided that we needed to take a few days in Porto and decide what we were going to do over Christmas and therefore our travel plans for the next few days.
Our room was already booked by someone else for Friday night so we had to find an alternative. The tourist office told of some apartments let out by the Hotel America. They sounded expensive at 50-60 euros, but we went to see the owner and negotiated 40 euros for what turned out to be a very nice apartment.
It was nice to walk around the old market in the next street and buy fish, meat and proper vegetables for the next three days and think about cooking some of our own food again.
As there was no internet we spent the afternoon finding a suitable internet café to complete our blog.
Tuesday 3rd and Wednesday 4th November Ponte de Lima to Guimaraes – 63km
It was a fairly cold morning so we had cycling tights and fleece tops on. Shortly out of town we stopped to buy provisions and then continued on the long drag hill, along the main road which was busy with heavy lorries and cars. Although there was a motorway running parallel, it seemed that nobody wanted to pay the toll fees.
The road seemed to go on and on, so it was head down to cover the 33 kilometers to Braga, which was to be our lunch time stopover. Braga is a large city, which initially seemed like just a big urban and industrial sprawl. We asked some students how to get to the old town and were directed “up and up and up the hill”. It was a steep climb and as we came to the old town we stopped at the first bit of park we came to and got out the picnic. The usual strange looks accompanied it.
We had a look around Braga old town and shopping area, purchased a Portuguese SIM card, visited tourist information and set off out of town to visit Bom Jesus, which we had read about in the “RoughGuide”. It was a hard climb up several hair pin bends, but well worth the effort.
Bom Jesus is one of Portugal’s most famous images. It was commissioned by Archbishop Maura-Teles in 1723 and took 60 years to complete. It comprises a church at the top of a series of ornate granite stairways and fountains down the hill side and standing out from the forest around it. It is an extremely popular tourist attraction, but as it was November there was hardly anyone else there, except for this rather attractive, well bodied babe.
From there we carried on up the hill, stopped at the top for a coffee and on towards Citania de Briteiros.
This is Portugal’s most ancient and best preserved sites of celtic village remains.
We were really pleased that we took the time visit the site.
It is quite amazing to realize that these early villagers were very sophisticated in their organization and architecture.
The pictures show how well built the walls were, every stone being carefully fitted to its neighbour.
There was a complex network of water channels running throughout the village and a communal bath house with steam room and cold water bathing area, (the aluminium channel of course is not part of the original).
The reconstructed houses seen on the site really did not fully represent what it must have really been like.
The caretaker of the site was also a keen cyclist and was very interested in our bikes and our ride. He treated us to a coffee before we left the visitor center and also helped us out with route finding to our nights stop. However, we had left it too late and we knew that we would be completing our ride in the dark.
The road to Guimaraes was very busy and narrow in places with nose to tail traffic in both directions. We stopped to put on our fluorescent jackets and switch on our lights, but we still felt very nervous as Portuguese drivers are not as tolerant as their Spanish counterparts. The final part of the ride was a 1st gear climb up under the busy motorway into the town. It was awful and by the time we got to the square in the old town we were both very tired, fed up and short on temper. We gathered our wits, ate a banana and found the Pousada de Juventude (Youth Hostel).
The term “Youth Hostel” didn’t do it justice it was better than some hotels that we had stayed in. We booked in for one night, but followed that with a second night as we just needed a day off to dry our gear properly, do our washing and do some admin. Oh and of course to do some sight seeing and enjoy the local fare.
Guimaraes was the original Portuguese capital and has a lovely old centre and an impressive castle that has been largely rebuilt from its previous ruinous state. At one point in its history, the castle was only just saved from being torn down so that the stone could be used to pave the streets.
Monday 2nd November – Moncau to Ponte de Lima – 56km
The sky was cloudy and the temperature had dropped significantly, but at least the rain had stopped. Our gear and clothing was still quite damp as there was no heating in the room. We packed, paid and said goodbye to our friendly host and went to the café in the square for breakfast.
We set off out of town onto the main road towards Valenca, about 16km west down the Minho valley. We were not looking forward to another long ride on the busy main road. A few kilometers out of town we passed a sign “Eco Pista” with a bicycle symbol on it, pointing down into the river valley. We stopped, about turned and rode the wrong way down the hard shoulder back to the turning and followed the signs. It turned out to be a fantastically surfaced, old railway line, all the way to Valenca. It passed through the Costa Verde vineyards. The sun came out and for the first time for several weeks, we saw other cyclists.
In no time at all, we were in Valenca.
We climbed up the cobbled streets into the old citadel with the most impressive city walls and fortifications.
In the town were many old traditional Portuguese buildings with wrought iron balconies and blue and white exterior tiled facades. We had the obligatory visit to sample the coffee and cake, walked around the walls and then got back on our trusty steeds to cycle out of the town, stopping to buy lunch on the way.
We took the back roads out of Valenca to avoid the main roads, which were a lot less developed than those of Spain. It made us realize just how good Spain’s roads and signage are. After a short while signs disappeared or were to just local places that weren’t even on our map or to “autre directions” that seemed to encompass anywhere else. We managed to find our way through the maze of back roads onto the old main road, which wasn’t too busy as the new motorway took most of the traffic. The climb was pretty gradual through many different villages. On the way up we passed an old man with a hand cart full of big rocks. He must have been in his eighties at least and could hardly walk unaided, but he was determined to push this cart up the hill and one of the wheels was almost falling off. If we hadn’t been intent on getting to our destination before dark, we would have stopped to help, but we had no doubt that he would succeed as he clearly was used to hard work.
Finally we crossed over the motorway at the watershed. The ride down was, to start with through a lovely wooded hillside, but as we approached half way, we came to a massive granite quarry. All down the road for several kilometers were small independent businesses making objects from granite purchased direct from the quarry. These objects ranged from simple paving stones through to ornate religious statues and edifices. The quarry stretched for kilometers and it seemed like they were ripping the whole side of the mountain apart.
As we rode further down towards the Lima river, the traffic got busier and the final part of the journey to Ponte de Lima was unpleasant and the place itself didn’t seem very nice.
Until that is, we rode into the old town which straddled the wide Lima river.
Most of the town was on the south side and had an old historic center where the old castle keep was situated overlooking the river. From there the old multi-arched bridge stretched across the river to the north bank, where the Albergue de Perigrinos was situated. The Albergue was the best we had stayed in, being modern, clean and the staff were all really friendly.
The town has a long history going back to before Roman times.
Legend has it that the waters of the river were magical and anyone who crossed it would lose their memory of their home and family. When the advancing Roman army arrived at the river, the troops refused to cross because of this superstition.
The Roman general had to cross first and call out the names of all his generals to prove to his troops that it was safe to cross. This scene features in the town’s history, with re-enactments of the event and a permanent, but tacky model of the general and his army on either side of the river.
We asked the advice of the Albergue staff where to eat, but the place they recommended was shut. We searched around and it being Monday night, most places were closed. We finally found a little street bar / café overlooking the river. There was just one little old lady running it and no other customers. The choice was soup or soup to start and meat or fish for main. We chose soup and meat with house red wine. It was a delicious home-made meal of braised beef, fries and fried rice. Strange combination, but it was just what we needed.
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