I've now finished the European leg: this is posted from a cafe in Porto where I'll get a couple of days R&R before flying from Lisbon on Tuesday.
In the Kettle Drum of Doom, you can see all the trapped souls of Greg's enemies, sacrificed for the sake of fair weather and non-grumpy officialdom on his travels.
It didn't work. Every single sodding day since leaving the white cliffs, I've had rain. There was one day (Thursday I think) where it didn't actually happen while I was cycling, plus a couple that let me off relatively lightly with showers, but apart from that it's all been either all day drizzle or violent thunderstorms. The camera is currently clinging to life in ITU, the rain jacket had shown it's full inadequacy and the budget is looking rather queasy after the number of nights I've slacked off camping. Bring on the desert!
Portugal's rather good though
it's not like northern Spain where you can ride across a featureless expanse for 30 miles, it's a compact country with lots and lots of twisty hilly lanes - like Britain except twice as warm and with tropical trees and plants crowding each other for space by the roadside. I guess they get first bite at the Gulf Stream and we get the pale leftovers. Also, they have cheaper coffee and better food: they're addicted to sweet treats of just the sort that make a cycling cafe stop worthwhile.
My one regret is that I'm not going to cycle more in Portugal - I'd originally intended to ride down to Lisbon but stopped here to see the Primavera festival last night and given I didn't set off at six this morning, there's not time so I'll get the train. It really is ideal cycling country though; you should all come. If I ever end up as a cycling tour guide, I'm bringing groups here.