Day 2
I didn’t sleep that well. My bed kept sliding along the kitchen floor in the night. In the end I had to move the cushions and jam them up against the fridge. Luxury living eh?
Henry has got some decent food in for breakfast and we feast well. I’m sitting enjoying my morning brew when I’m suddenly thumped on the head! The double bed behind me has unfolded out of the wall and whacked me one. “Yea” Henry says, “Catch is a bit faulty on that”. Really. I’m awake now! Once showered and packed, it’s down to the street. Last night it was quiet when I entered the apartment. When I open the street door it is like world war three has started! The noise and traffic is incredible! There is a hospital across the road with only one entrance and vehicles are fighting to enter and leave at the same time. Utter chaos. The road is completely blocked. Horns blaring people gestulating at one another. A policeman is parked by the kerb, completely ignoring the comic scene.
We have no choice to get on our way but to ride down the pavement, weaving between pedestrians. The cop does not even blink. He’s not interested. As soon as possible we turn off and head downhill to the river. I’ve seen a cycle path on Google Earth that runs on the other side of the river and also a video of a guy leaving Porto on a bike. I took note that he enters a tunnel to reach the other side. The streets down to the river are really steep and badly cobbled. That steep, that the rear of the bike is trying to overtake you and throw you off, even though I have a heavy Carradice saddlebag attached. I’ve not had a chance to set the bike up properly so elect to dismount and walk the bike down the worst bits. I get a thumbs up from a Portuguese couple panting their way upwards.
Once alongside the river we spot the tunnel and jostle with the traffic to the other side, where we immediately turn right and where we find the cycle path. Here is where we take a breather while Henry consults his Iphone.
Henry loves his phone. I’ve got the route showing on my Garmin but Henry insists his phone is better and will not hear of consulting, or following the Garmin. This is a bone of contention between us that haunts us all the way through the tour. The £60 Garmin likes to hang about a bit while it finds satellites where the new £300 or £400 phone does it pretty instantly, but does not show the route, but still Henry goes for that and dismisses the Garmin. I let him get on with it and admire the scenery.
It’s a beautiful morning and we follow a lovely cycle path alongside the beach with some great tempting spots to stop for a break. Knock a few easy flat miles out, then give in and stop for coffee. It costs less than €2 for two coffees sitting outside in the sun opposite a beach and the Atlantic Ocean. A bit different than the three quid you pay in some parts of the UK for so called coffee surrounded by litter and winos.
It’s addictive to ride by the side of the Atlantic but now we are finding that we are constantly leaving the road, riding down to the sea, ride along the path a bit then back to the main drag. Doing a lot of mileage for not much progress. We reluctantly have to join the main drag or we will fail to reach the nights intended destination. Wherever that is. Ovara is a maybe, but it should be Aviero. I’m following the Garmin. Henry is following his Iphone but we seem to be heading in the same direction, so. Whatever.
This is easy riding. We’ve lost sight of the Atlantic now and we are rolling through small villages every few miles on a flat road. The temperature is up though and I estimate it’s about 30c. It’s ok though as we are creating our own breeze. It’s when you stop that you feel the sun burning our fair English skin. Now hunger, well starvation is starting to kick in when we spot every cyclists dream on tour. Well it’s mine. A Lidl!
Don’t you just love that sign. It’s interior is laid out exactly like the one at home. Magic! Only problem they don’t do sandwiches. In France you can get great sandwiches. Shame. Anyway Bananas, apples, full of fat, pasties and a yoghurt should see me through. There are clean toilets and a tap where I can fill my water bottles. Henry is posher or more sensible/richer than me and buys bottled water. Well he’s a Southerner so what can you do? We dine in style over the road, after looking for shade and finding it in a church square, before mounting up again for more easy riding on the EU funded roads.
Time is now getting on. We roll through Ovar and the road is getting busy. It’s well-surfaced, single carriageway but there are a lot of big trucks. Now these guys don’t like having to move over and the overtakes are seriously dodgy. Buses are as bad and I have to bang on the side of one to make him move over. It’s starting to get worrying and that with the temperature moving ever higher, cycling is becoming more of a game of survival. I’ve just about had enough, when one old guy almost runs me down while he is texting and changing direction at the same time. He only sees me when I knock on his windscreen. I childishly shout and rant at him but he puts his hands up and apologises. Luckily we are near to Aviero and so turn into town to find a bed for the night and of course lose the road of death. .
It’s a nice town. All cobbles as usual. Venice of Portugal evidently.
We dive into a smart hotel €52 incl breakfast. Bikes are confined to the garage and we have a good room upstairs. Once settled I’m ready for a reviving brew. I’ve got this little electric element that you plug into the wall and leave in your cup to boil water. Works a treat. I plug it into the socket, drop it into the cup of water and…. Sheesshh! It’s noisy and crackling straightaway! Never known that before. Henry backs off to the other side of the room. Within a minute the water is bubbling and boiling away. I drag the socket out of the wall and also leg it to the other side of the room. Well the lights seem to be still working, so not so bad.
Time to go out for a meal before somebody comes knocking. We have a good meal in a Pizza place. Nice bottle of wine to go with it for €8. The meal of steak and egg is only €6 each. Not really steak as we know it but still very good and Henry does not get charged any extra for the long Portuguese hair on his plate.
Stroll back to the hotel along deserted streets. I decide not to make a bedtime brew. Tomorrow is another day.