Fruit and veg stall at the market in Vila Nova de Milifontes
From Sagres we travelled to a town called Vila Nova de Milifontes where there’s a very old campsite and an old market just across the road. We were really lucky to be there on Saturday morning, market day.
I know potatoes…
Unfortunately, supermarkets making shopping easy… not a problem but also not exciting. I get a bit overwhelmed by markets… what to buy? What to cook? What is that fish? Will it kill me? How do you cook it so that it doesn’t kill me? How do I explain my anxiety to the stall owner when I don’t speak the language? And also… is it okay to take pictures if you’re not buying? So many questions.
Lovely breeze sitting in the shade waiting for coffee
Walking around the market in Vila Nova de Milifontes made me think again about this and got me interested in a food tour I saw that runs in the newly renovated indoor market in Porto… maybe we can find a way to do that tour! If we do I’ll be bringing you along with me and hopefully telling you what won’t kill you when you’re buying unfamiliar food at a market.
Look at the adorable spoon that came on the saucer with my coffee
We hope to go to Porto this weekend and as the weather is forecast to be not as hot and getting cooler it should be very pleasant wandering around the city.
A tiny bit of the castle walls and the Cathedral, Silves
This is a very quick note because it’s way too hot to think today, over 33 and still rising! But I nearly forgot to send you the storks!
Stork’s nest on top of a telephone pole opposite the motorhome parking
We stayed in Silves before Sagres. We’ve stayed there before and seen the storks and goats beside the motorhome parking.
Close up of stork from previous photo. Can you see the smaller birds? They have nests in underneath
I still know very little about Storks except they like to build their nests high up on the top of narrow poles or chimneys or electricity transmission towers. We’ve seen up to 7 stork nests sharing one of those transmission towers!
Storks at the supermarket
The same nests seem to be used each year, whether by the same storks or not I don’t know.
And close up of the supermarket storks
And the nests are huge. So big the smaller birds build their nests as part of the stork’s nest just underneath.
We travelled to the edge of the known world on Friday, Sagres. Well the known world before the Americas were discovered. And that might never have happened without Prince Henry the Navigator. Prince Henry grew up in the 1400’s. He was also the Duke of Viseu, remember where I left my bag in the cafe? Born in Porto but died here in Sagres.
Sagres looking out towards the lighthouse of Cabo de São Vicente
Henry was a Portuguese prince who poured loads of his father’s (the king) money into researching and exploring. He hired cartographers and designed (or had designed) a sail boat called the caravel. The prince sent his new sail boats to Africa in search of gold.
Path to the sea
By the time Prince Henry had died, the trade of humans from African had become a business. Not everything exciting and new is good.
The waves lapping
These days the sea around Sagres is very popular as a surfing destination . You can hire boards and wet suits and go on tours of the best surfing spots in the Algarve. The car parks are full of camper vans and motorhomes with surf boards on the roof.
The surfers surfing
We forgot to bring ours so we watched instead. Maybe next time.
There was a huge cork tree forest beside the campsite. We have never been this close to a cork tree
On Monday night we stayed out in the countryside at a small campsite near the town of Evoramonte. We stayed there again on Tuesday night as the heatwave had arrived and zapped our adventuring spirit. A rest was needed. Showers were also badly needed!
And we had never see the leaves of the Cork tree this clearly
The campsite is owned by a Dutch couple who were very laid back. When we arrived it was the day before Freedom Day a public holiday in Portugal and the husband told us they were very busy so he wasn’t sure if there was anything left and wherever we could find a spot would be grand.
There was a path from the campsite through the fields to a nearby road
This way of doing things can lead to uncomfortable results… sometimes people leave their pitch for the day and expect it will be there when they return because they have mentioned it to the owner. We have been there and have become very sensitive to the signs of a pitch already taken. But there were no signs at one very pretty pitch.
This strange looking bug was on the path. Can you see the red stripes? I realise it would have been helpful to add a coin or my hand for size but he was afraid of me and I of him
In the evening we watched a couple pack up their camp when the original camper arrived back irate and questioned whether they had checked with the owner. Well… we knew it wouldn’t have helped if they had.
Cork trees have to be 25 years old before the first harvest. And 9 years between each subsequent harvest
We might have been in their shoes if the spot had been a little bigger and the trees hadn’t been overhanging. It was a particularly nice spot with shade (from the overhanging trees) a pretty view of the castle in the distance and a cooling breeze coming across the valley.
I can’t believe this is the only picture I took of the view of the castle… this is from our pitch, did I mention we didn’t get the best view. Grand picture of a lamp post though…
If I was making up the story of an irate man and wanted to give him a happier life, I’d have him suddenly come to his senses. He might say… I don’t worry if I have a pretty space, I enjoy it and if it’s gone when I get back I enjoy where I find myself.
Can you see the number 2 on that tree? That lets the farmer know when this tree is ready for harvest
We had our own shade – not overhanging. It was from a row of Leylandii trees. Yes, the ones no one likes in their gardens anymore but when the sun passed it’s highest point they provided the deepest shade. The irate man might have said, trees are very generous with their shade.
The cool of the evening is best time for a walk
Unfortunately, it wasn’t until the next day that I realised that besides shade the Leylandii tree also provided mosquitos… The irate man would have said, ah mosquitoes, another reason to love Ireland.
There’s a park beside the river Tagus with a canal for the ducks
We found a beautiful place to stay on Sunday night last. It was a big surprise to realise we had been here before. If you’ve been reading for years you may remember the last time we stayed the police came to tell us the river was running high and there was a possibility it would break its banks and we should move from our river view.
The ducks
We did move but I have often thought about that time… in hindsight we didn’t move far enough away. Of course nothing bad happened it didn’t burst it’s banks and we didn’t get submerged. But it’s one of the biggest rivers in Portugal, the Tagus! It flows into Lisbon! I bet it would be a big flood!
I wish you could smell this field. And we had the quietest night’s sleep
One of the best things about this parking space on Sunday, was that it was in the overflow field. Not overflow for the river but overflow parking when the regular parking spaces are filled. And the best thing about the field… it had been a corn field and now it was cut… and the smell was absolutely magnificent. It reminded me of childhood summers in permanent sunshine.
There was a bus on the next street that served food!
Isn’t it funny how my mind was still playing with the thought of what might have happened years ago in this place? Nothing happened. But if I had realised we were coming back here I might have said, no I don’t want to go there, the river might flood. And I’d have missed the smell of that field and a return journey to childhood.
Love this quote and the freedom from worry it promises…
We stopped at the town of Mangualde to have lunch on Sunday. We didn’t know where to park so we parked at the Intermarche and unlike it’s sister supermarkets in France it was open all day!🥳 Opportunity for grocery shopping taken we went for a little walk around the town before lunch in the quiet car park.
This door was behind a locked gate and surrounded by a high stone wall. There’s a story here but I don’t know it…
The buildings are old and lovely and there was plenty of things to photograph even on our 30 minute walk. Including two cats and a door blistering in the heat. The temperatures have started to rise here but we are keeping cool with ice cream… And we’ve bought a weighing scales. Both things not related.
Blisteringly hot!
After Mangualde we drove to see the castle at Penela. At some point Denis noticed something strange in the rear camera. We had bought a new bicycle cover to keep the bike dry and it seemed to have come loose and was flapping wildly behind us. We would need to stop but there were very few places so we kept an eye on it and drove on.
Penela castle from the distance
The flapping was getting worse. Eventually we saw a fuel services and pulled in. Both of us got out to investigate… the cover was intact but there was a tiny leaf stuck to the camera. A tiny leaf flapping around looked enormous on the screen inside the van.
Can you see the tiny leaf stuck to the rear camera?
Sometimes little things seem huge and they’re just not.
On Saturday night we stayed in a car park in the town of Viseu. We arrived late and were tired so we decided to chill and go for a small walk to a little park. It was at that point that we remembered being here before. There’s an old town with narrow streets and a church but the town was at the top of the hill we were at the bottom… Don’t judge us – we didn’t revisit.
That’s the old town up there..
Next morning we were feeling a little more energetic and a walk uphill to a bakery/cafe one reviewer on Google Maps called – the best bakery in Portugal – seemed doable. It wasn’t a steep walk and we found the bakery – with coffee – easily.
Can you see the wild geese in the park?
Afterwards when we were almost back at the car park I realised I’d left my bag on the ground, under the table outside the bakery… My cash, cards and ID inside. We turned around and headed back uphill.
Completely forgot to take a picture of the cafe… it’s beyond the roundabout on the right🫢
If we had been anywhere other than Portugal I might have felt anxious that my bag would be gone. Previous trips had convinced me all was well. On our first trip we were in a supermarket and I noticed a handbag sitting all alone on top of a pallet of water. First thought, oh, someone has forgotten their bag. But no, it belonged to the woman who was nearby stacking the shelves, she had put her bag there in full view with no doubt it would be safe while she worked. Now, I had no doubt my bag would also be fine.
The best bakery in Portugal… probably
When we arrived back I couldn’t see my bag under the table but inside our waitress gave us the biggest smile and nodded a yes, she had my bag! I don’t know if anyone here realises that this is not normal everywhere. I’m very glad it’s normal here. The bakery is called Pastelaria D. João I (in English, Pastry John I) Oh and the coffee and natas were great too.
View of the Douro from the van travelling the narrow road…
On Saturday we continued our journey in the direction of Pinhão following the valley of the Douro river. This is a very steep valley with narrow roads. It was also very beautiful but very scary. Did I mention it was very steep? So steep you couldn’t see the river from up there.
The town on the valley is called Pinhão
And busy. Lots of cars behind us, looking like they were ready to pass if only there was room. There were no places wide enough for us to stop and let them pass so we all had to wait. We drove on until we reached the river at the base of the valley, the Douro.
Train tracks and boat wash
This valley is where all the grapes to produce port are grown. And traditionally wooden boats (now repurposed for tourist river trips) took the grapes (or maybe it was the pressed grapes?) to Porto to be proceessed. Much like Champagne, only port with grapes grown in this valley can be called port. Imagine that!
The wooden boats formerly used to carry the grapes to Porto
Anyway we kept going down, down, down to the valley floor. All the time I was hopeful there was a nice wide road back up for later… and it was a bit wider and less busy. If you look at the map of Portugal and find the Douro, you will see the road hugging the river. Every turn, every bend all the way to the town of Peso da Régua, where we took a break for lunch.
Can you see Ruby’s parking space to the right of the big cruise boat?
As we were passing the Museum of the Duoro we took a look at their restaurant but it was set up for dinner but I just wanted a sandwich. We kept going just stopping long enough to take a picture. The back gate of the museum led out on to a side street and a nice man smiled at us and I don’t know how it happened but next thing we are sitting in his restaurant ordering lunch. Not sandwich lunch, no – pork chops, salad and chips lunch!
And the sun shone…
It was divine. I hadn’t realised how hungry fear of heights makes me. We probably would have had enough in one portion between two but on the other hand we left a few chips and we didn’t eat all the bread or the olives or the bowl of rice. Yes, must remember next time a nice man invitees us to his restaurant – just order one portion. And the cost €25 total, including water.
The train passes in front of that cute house every day. I suppose they get used to it?
By Thursday evening last we had arrived over the border in Portugal at a town called Mogadouro and booked into a great municipal campsite. Great means the toilets are clean and the showers are warm and there’s all the camper services.
There’s a Costa here somewhere…
After the rush and bustle of France and Spain, Portugal is a lovely change. Everything slows down and yes that includes the service but what’s your hurry? I spent 15 lovely minutes with the receptionist who was having a difficult time with the computer as she tried and tried again to check us in. But she still found time to marvel that we had come all the way from Ireland. And to ask us if we were enjoying our stay. And all this in English!
The castle
We slept very well that night and decided to stay the next day to wander the very hilly town. We visited the castle and the cafe and the supermarket where we found more Portuguese hospitality.
The post boxes are red…
I was making dinner that night and needed crème fraiche but I couldn’t find it. Denis suggested I ask someone… but he didn’t volunteer. While I was giving him the look – you know the one that says I don’t need your advice – the lady who was stocking the shelves nearby said something in Portuguese to me. She couldn’t be offering to help could she? She was!
And so are the fire engines
I mentioned the crème fraiche with an expression of you probably don’t have it, sure it’s French, what was I thinking, no worries, I’ll use cream or maybe yoghurt. But guess what? She found it! I was so grateful and this is the thing that keeps happening in Portugal… it doesn’t matter that we don’t speak the language, we get each other! She smiled and put a hand to my arm, like, it’s ok I got your back!
Mogadouro
Well I’m not ashamed to admit, there was a tear in my eye. It was not just crème fraiche, Denis!
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