We unpacked the bikes and set up camp still all grumpy and overheated. Aidan solved this by opening a really hot can of that had been boiling in his luggage since the supermarket this morning, while I swapped jeans and boots for hotpants and flipflops and used one of the panniers to do the laundry in.


Housewifing done and sufficiently calmed down, we wandered up the road with a bottle of wine, see if we could find the ice-cold s we had been craving. Stashed the wine and went into the first bar we saw. 90 cents a half pint? Bring it on! I'm suddenly up for a pub.... er, I mean bar crawl

Everyone seems to be scooting around on those awesome little bikes and a couple of guys came and went, riding up to their mates, having a and then riding on.


We decided to explore some more of the village. So fetched our wine bottle from its hiding place and walked down the road. Quite scary, as there are mostly no pavements and cars just zoom past without slowing down for anything. So you find yourself jumping into ditches or pressed against someone's garden wall a lot.


There wasn't much to see, so we popped into another bar. I did the usual british thing and walked up to the bar and bought a . The second time the bar tender thought he'd teach me the portuguese way and refused payment. Then the penny dropped. You just keep drinking as s are brought to your table and then you pay at the end before you leave. That would never happen in London! I liked this relaxed attitude

As I sat down, I knocked the flimsy plastic table and spilled lots of . So I had to get up again to fetch some napkins from inside. Aidan took the piss out of me endlessly. Then he got up and knocked the table so hard, my fell over! HAHA! Who is drunk now?!? We spent the rest of the evening discussing the bikes and our riding styles, and how I could improve my cornering. Aidan was lots better at it than me. Finally it was time to stumble back to the tent and pass out.

The next morning we slept in and only crawled out of the tent when the sun had turned it into an oven.


Didn't bother making coffee. Just drank what was left in our thermos. It's a really good one, so the coffee was still warm. Some squashed bread and peanut butter sandwiches later, we packed up and headed straight for the beach in Esposende. Being the Atlantic coast, it was quite cool. But we grabbed our swimming clothes and jumped into the water head and all anyways. It was too cold to stay there long, so we just lay on the beach, reading our books. Eventually that got cold too, as my wet bikini felt like ice, so I put my bike jacket over it, looking just a little bit silly

As the beach filled up with tourists, we grabbed our shampoo and had a shower under those wash-the-sea-salt-off-your-skin-when-you-leave-the-beach showers. Bit odd standing on the beach in full view of everyone, having a shower, but no-one seemed to mind too much. And yes, we left our bikini/swimming trunks on of course! Was sooooo good to be all clean again We munched some biscuits while our stuff was drying in the sunshine and then packed up and headed into Porto.

The idea was to whizz though the city and find a camping spot on the other side. Daniel had said Porto was well worth a visit, so we wanted to return the next day and have a look around. But we got hopelessly lost and ended up riding in circles. Daniel's friends told us later, that they would not attempt going to Porto without a sat-nav! Aidan got more and more pissed off and did a kamikaze left turn across three lanes into a petrol station, with me in hot pursuit. We checked the maps on Aidan's phone and set off, only to get lost three minutes later. All we wanted to do was to leave the city eastwards, but the roads kept taking unexpected turns south and then west! But Porto just wouldn't let us leave! We got more and more frustrated! Every time we thought we were heading east, a sign was telling us we were heading towards "Centro" again!

It was Jinxed! So Aidan just gave up and told me to lead us the hell out of there. So I turned down the one road that didn't say "Centro" leading north. Ignoring the first road east, we ended up on the second turn eastwards - which promptly turned into the A1 SOUTH towards Lisbon (See what I mean?!?). I thought what the hell, we need to go south eventually anyways, so I just gunned it. We continued to ignore the exits until we had well and truly left the city, then we left the motorway and rode down the N1. I pulled over and apologised to Aidan for going south, not east. Tuns out we weren't far off from where we had wanted to go. But most importantly: we escaped!!!

Finding camping was not easy that evening. Village seemed to melt into village and every little clearing and mountainside seems to be either occupied or farm land. It's really pretty but seems quite poor, with farmers working their small fields by hand. Freshly harvested onions were stacked in little piles dotted around the fields and there were people selling onions, potatoes and melons from sacks by the roadside everywhere. We scrutinised every little path leading into some trees, but did not find anywhere to discretely put a tent.

There were forest fires to avoid as well. We had seen smaller ones all over Portugal and no-one seemed to do anything about them. Strange given I had heard of stories where people died because they were unable to escape the advancing flames. But here the sandy ground just seemed to smoulder and plants slowly caught fire. But then we hadn't seen any of the big fires yet. My dad txt me that evening to be careful as there were huge forest fires about 75km south-east of Porto (guess where we were -ish?). We could see some black smoke clouds to the north and one hill that could have been the perfect camping spot was on fire.

So we rode on and eventually found an ok spot near a housing estate..... A sort of light forest that seems to have been declared a public dumping ground. Oh well, it was getting dark and we were exhausted, so it would do. A couple of teenagers walked past and completely ignored us. I felt almost invisible! At least we weren't told to move on, so we set up the tent and Aidan cheffed up some yummie chorizo and veggie rice

We discussed our options for the next day over a bottle of port whilst writing the diaries and decided not to return to Porto. It had been such a nightmare just trying to navigate through it! We would head to the smaller Aveiro instead.

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It was about 70km south of where we were camped and now that we were in Portugal and doing these low mileage days we were allowing ourselves the luxury of a sleep in most mornings. Even though it was half past eleven by the time we set off we were in town by about half past one. Stopped off at Lidl to fetch breakfast and some supplies.


The N109 connects the two towns, and most others on the coast but is fairly uninspiring otherwise, being bounded mainly by industrial estates, car dealerships and the like.


We had taken loads of nice twisty roads in Spain though so we wanted to give priority to city wanderings and beach laziness now that we were in Portugal.

Cruising through the outskirts of Aveiro, I was mentally preparing myself for the next attempt at navigating a city and after Porto, I was making a conscious effort not to get stressed. While there was a bit of mad Portuguese traffic to deal with, it was fairly easy by comparison as we meandered around looking for a spot to park. To be honest, I was a bit underwhelmed by the state of the place. All of a sudden though, the slightly dull, overly wide street split into a series of small avenues dotted with bars, a central canal filled with gondolas painted in lewd scenes, and a public square where it seemed we could get away with parking our bikes, provided we didn't get in anyone's way.


Deciding not to wait until I was told otherwise, I hopped up on to the kerb and we pulled up either side of a lamppost in between some benches.

The intolerable heat and discomfort of traipsing around Braga a few days before had caused us to get decidedly grumpy with each other so Maria stripped in the square to trade her bike gear for hotpants and converse. I stashed my bike boots too and threw on a sleeveless top to show off the dozens of mozzie bites I'd accumulated the night before, after passing out drunk with one of the bastards hiding in the tent. I also lightened my tank bag and fashioned a strap to throw over my shoulder, so all in all we were much happier wandering around town, checking out the avenues and pondering lunch.

We eventually settled on a place to eat, then changed our minds, then back again, then checked out six other places. We did end up getting lunch though - Maria steak and eggs, and me a rock of salt chiseled impressively into a very realistic fried cod shape. It was actually ok, but so salty it made my eyes water. Luckily it was served with unsalted chips, some of the best bread I'd eaten all trip, and a few ice cold s. While we were eating we dug out our Portuguese phrase books and looked up the translation for 'stamp' and 'post office', to finally put Maria's three day postcard fiasco to bed. The first postcard selling shop we walked into sold stamps, and directed us to a postbox. Done! While there I spotted a postcard proudly extolling Aveiro's history of harvesting salt from seawater. That explains the local cuisine then.


Our next mission was to try to find an internet cafe to sort out an issue back in London that had been plaguing Maria since before we left. Until now we had either been unable to find wifi, or hadn't had the time or the inclination to wander around looking. Crossing the road from the post box, we were stopped by a pretty tourist tout asking us if we wanted a ride on one of the pornographic gondolas.


We didn't, but she was able to point us down the road to a shopping centre where there was free wifi. Within five minutes we were in McDonalds sorting out our London-based issue and uploading photos to the website.

At about half past five we decided to head out of town and find camp. I had a look on my phone and saw a nice unpopulated looking spot that I wanted to head for. Somehow though I took a wrong turn and ended up on the motorway heading north! A few frantic detours later I ended up back in the part of Aveiro that we had arrived in that morning, so I figured I'd just retrace my steps and try again. I managed to **** that up too though and we found ourselves in a completely different part of the city. Oh well, at least we were exploring. At this point I resorted to the compass and some help from Maria and soon we were out of town and heading back south, and back on the N109. We rode south for about twenty minutes, and I pulled over at a supermarket to check the map, stock up on water and, what the hell, buy a second bottle of wine. The map showed that a west-bound road we had just passed led into a promising looking green area so, fully laden we headed back the way we'd come, turned off the main road and started the familiar routine of scouting dirt tracks.

Again, in comparison to the day before it was easy. We were by now building an intuition about what a road might yield by looking at the surrounding landscape and within ten minutes we had found a solid maybe. We looked on a bit further and ten minutes later we were parked on a quiet track-off-the-track, under a tree, on flat ground in a little forest, enjoying one of the best camping spots of the trip. We cracked open the wine and since we'd had a big lunch, tucked into a box of after-eights in lieu of firing up the stove.


Today was one of the good days....

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Last night when we crawled into our sleeping bags, we heard some dogs barking frantically in the distance. They hadn't shut up the whole time we were writing our diaries. We started to worry they may be barking because of forest fires closing in on them and they really weren't that far away.

So back out of the tent, traipsing around in the dark to investigate. We couldn't see anything through the trees or even down the road. Also couldn't smell any smoke. The crickets were still chirping away, the little forest creatures were still roaming around our tent and the bees by the hives in the clearing were still calmly buzzing about their business as usual. We figured they'd know when a fire was close by, so we crawled back into the tent.

Some dogs closer by had started joining the chorus, but they didn't seem as mad as the other ones. Then, suddenly, the barking in the distance turned into a bone chilling howl! And then silence. Only the dogs close by were still barking away. Aidan just passed out, but I couldn't sleep! What if the dogs in the distance had just burned up and the fire was getting closer?

I spent the whole night hardly sleeping, constantly listening out to the wind that picked up (apparently big fires sound like strong wind), sniffing for the tiniest whiff of smoke. The alarm clock went off at 8am and we crawled out of the tent into the sunshine and blue skies above the trees. Now I felt really silly about my night's worries and well bummed about the lack of sleep! I was sooooo tired!

Suddenly gunshots went off around us, coming closer. What is it with Southern Europeans hunting hapless travelers? I'm starting to think the bikes look like deer or something! So we made coffee and packed up in record time. Meanwhile the fire sirens went off in several nearby villages. As we left the forest down the little path and out onto the road, we passed the hunters' car.

Then we saw it! The sky was black with smoke a little further up the road.


The sun had turned into a tiny red dot and I had to swap my sunglasses for normal ones, it was so dark. Seems we had been really lucky. The wind had come from our direction towards the fire, and so we hadn't been able to smell it or see the smoke. But it was only a few minutes ride away!


We escaped the smoke and headed straight to the beach at Figuera da Foz. I tried to catch up with some sleep but the mornings excitement had woken me up. So we read our books, drank coffee, and munched sour peach rings from Lidl (like Haribo only yummier ). Aidan txt Daniel's mate Carlos to see if we could stay at his house tonight. He had kindly offered we could stay there for the wedding, but he didn't expect us until tomorrow.

After a few hours of lazing on the beach, the smoke finally caught up with us and the sun "clouded over". We found a restaurant and had lunch and an ice-cold Then we rode on towards Leiria. At a petrol station two of those pine logging lorries filled up next to us: 650 Euros each!!! Aidan spoke to Daniel and we agreed to meet him and his friends in Leiria outside the football stadium (easy to find).

Was so nice to finally arrive and see Daniel But he was still busy. Had to test drive the Ford Mustang he was renting for the wedding and then he had to go decorate the venue. We weren't so sure we would actually be of any help and anyways, he wanted the venue to be a surprise. So we just went into the old part of town, parked the bikes next to some others on the pavement as per usual in Portugal, and had a couple of s in the bar where Daniel used to work.


The s were served with some yummy salty beans (I later found out they are Lupini Beans). I love them, Aidan is not so keen.

We still had to ride the bikes back to Carlos' house that night, so drinking much wasn't an option. We resorted to people watching, playing cards over a coke, reading books, and finally walking around the gorgeous old town. (I'm still kicking myself that I didn't take a single picture of it, cos it is real nice!)

Daniel called just as we got bored and a little frustrated with waiting for the others (I was super tired due to my lack of sleep the night before and so got grumpy a little too easy). They were about 10 minutes away. Yay! We all sat in a cafe in the old town square and we finally got to meet Carlos and lots of Daniel's friends. They ordered steak sandwiches and these ones really had a steak in them! Yum! The first steak sandwich in the world, that I actually liked

Daniel told us about his test drive. The Mustang basically has no brakes (which they let him find out on the road!), only has three gears, and you have to let the clutch fully up before you hit the gas. Sounds like they will have some fun getting the bride from the church to the venue Then the DJ-friend of Daniel's turned up and they started discussing the music for the wedding.

Friends were coming and going and everyone was talking Portuguese. I didn't mind though, it was quite fun trying to guess what they were talking about. Ricardo entertained us in English with stories of his green Triumph Bonneville, traditional Portuguese parents vs road trips and how he has lived in France and Germany before. Eventually I couldn't stop yawning, so Daniel convinced Carlos and his girlfriend Micaela to finally take us home.

Carlos drove ahead in his car and Aidan and I followed on the bikes. I had told Carlos to take it easy but he was still going well fast and we didn't know the pitch black roads. (Well, as far as he's concerned, he drove at a snail's pace. But since the Portuguese drive minimum double the speed limit at all times...) That's when I realised my low beam wasn't working. And since I couldn't see anything with the parking light, I switched to full beam. Sorry to anyone I blinded that night! Luckily we had a spare day the next day at Carlos' house, so the plan was to fix the light and indicators then.

The bikes were parked up in the huge garage space underneath the house - Luxury! And we were offered our own room with balcony! Awesome! Micaela quickly made the bed up for us (in various shades of pink! Aidan must've loved it ) and we were offered a much-needed shower. But we were so tired, we just collapsed into bed and passed out!

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When we woke up Carlos and Micaela had already left the house. So I sent Carlos a txt could we use his washing machine? We'd left our panniers on the bikes in the garage for the night but now we needed them as our shower stuff and everything else was in them. So we grabbed the key, shut the front door and went down to the garage (you had to go outside and down some stairs for that, as it's a block of flats with a shared garage below).

Panniers lugged up the stairs, the door to the flat won't open! We tried turning the key every possible angle, half in, all the way in, up side down..... nothing. Carlos obviously has a trick we don't know. The lady upstairs became a little concerned at the two strangers wearing only underpants, T-shirts and bike boots, surrounded by dusty metal boxes, trying their best to break the door open.

We eventually managed to communicate our dilemma but she couldn't help either. Climbing the balcony it is then: Aidan had opened our bedroom door to the balcony as soon as we woke up... The neighbors having breakfast on the balcony across the road started laughing and cheering our wobbly attempt at climbing the piled up panniers. --Wait! wasn't there a ladder I'd seen in the back of the garage?


Problem solved! The door opened fine from the inside. There were just a few screws missing, so the handle doesn't turn the bit that holds it closed. A pile of screws and nails on the windowsill beside it suggested previous futile attempts at fixing it. Oh well! I put the ladder back in the garage and then made some coffee while Aidan had a shower. I also did some washing up - and used up all the hot water. Oops! Sorry Aidan

A txt came back: Of course we could use the washing machine, the house is our home now and we can use everything. That's real nice! I stuffed all our stinky clothes in the machine, threw in lots of our hand wash (there wasn't much washing powder left, and I didn't want to steal the last bit) and switched it on. It started washing as it should - Yay! Nice and easy Laundry this time

We drank the much needed coffee and had some breakfast, making plans for the day. The bikes needed a thorough going over.... oil check, tyre pressure, air filters, lose nuts and bolts..... And then there was the indicator and headlight issues too. After that we would go to the beach just around the corner, have some s....

And then the washing machine drops dead mid-turn for no reason whatsoever! After staring at it for a while, just in case it would tell us whats wrong, we went on a hunt for the fuse box. Next to the front door? Nothing. Cupboard in the kitchen? Nope! One of the rooms in a corner somewhere? Anywhere?? No idea! I'll just have a shower instead - the water was still cold

Meanwhile Aidan had pulled the washing machine forward and checked the water filter, but couldn't find the problem. Bummer! Decided to fetch some s and more detergent to settle into a long laundry session followed by some bike maintenance (trust me, you need a cold pint (or two, or three...) for that ... Found the fuse box!! It was in the hallway right in front of our noses. But no fuse blown. We obviously have no idea of how a house works anymore after having lived in a tent for so long. So back to the -laundry plan.

Carlos had pointed in a direction where there were supposed to be shops last night, but we had no idea what direction that was. So we set of down the wrong road and ended up in the dunes. Turned around and walked along a massive campsite to find a dead end. Turned around again and took the third option towards the beach. A nice lady reassured us that there definitely was a shop in the little touristy village by the beach down the hill.

The beach looked gorgeous! Hopefully the laundry won't take too long, so we get to enjoy it before the sun goes down!


We found a Minimercado in the middle of lots of little houses and restaurants. Bought a huge box of hand-wash laundry detergent, as many cans as we could carry, and a bottle of wine as a thank you for our hosts. The Spanish and Portuguese cans are smaller, as are the draughts they serve in bars and I love it "What's wrong with you???" I hear you cry. No really, it's perfect! That way your drink doesn't get warm and flat before you finish it. It's like keeping half your pint unopened in the fridge while you drink the first half. Spotted a wickid lil bike on the way too


The ready availability of hand wash laundry detergent in a random little corner shop makes me wonder. As does the tiny price of €1.45 for a huge box vs the princely sum of €5.00 for a very small bottle of machine wash laundry liquid.... Maybe in Portugal (or at least in this part) lots of people still do their laundry by hand? That should be some inspiration for my upcoming mission.

Back at the flat I tried the washing machine again, just in case. But it died again straight away. Beer and detergent at the ready I set about washing all our clothes, towels and even Kevlar jeans (they are a bitch to wring out!) in the big kitchen sink. Its a workout! Washing and washing and wringing and washing and then wringing some more... How medieval women managed to keep white linen white, I have no idea! Our dish cloth stayed grey with tomato sauce spots no matter what I tried! Mind you, now I finally had sparkly clean fingernails again

Meanwhile Aidan set about making use of all the sockets in the house to charge all our phones, cameras, laptop and batteries. Then he made a start working on the bikes. Hm....... woman in the kitchen, doing laundry; man in the garage playing mechanic....

The laundry finally done, I went down to the garage to look at Seven's indicator. Since both the indicators and the little dashboard light sometimes worked and sometimes not, I figured it must be either the switch or the relay. The relay looked nothing like it should according to the Haynes manual, so I wasn't sure I'd located the right part. Opened the switchgear instead. Big crack in the casing that contains the actual switch, which could cause a loose contact causing it to work sometimes and sometimes not. Nothing I could do there and then, so put it back together. (Found out from youtube later, that there are tiny springs and metal balls that fly all over the place when you open it up.... damn glad I didn't try opening it that day then!)

Ok, but I can at least fix the head light. Most likely the bulb is gone, so I'll just put the spare one in, that I brought along. Bulb exchanged, aaand..... nothing! Same issue, no low beam! What could it be? Wiring? Fuse? Wait... Always check the simplest things first.... Yup! I had brought an old, broken bulb as spare. Oops! So much for fixing Seven then Put everything back together and Aidan had finished all the maintenance things (oil, air filter...).


Aidan cheffed up a yummie lunch of chorizo-pepper-courgette-rice and glazed carrots with a cold pint That's better: man (chef) in the kitchen and woman working on the bikes (we'll just conveniently omit my epic failure to actually fix the bike here)

Then we finally headed down to the beach. Still a little too cold for swimming, so we just bumbled about, drank in the exiting calm of the sea and the good feeling of the beach and took lots of pictures.


We walked along the coast until walking in the sand became too exhausting. Then went back along the road to the little village where we had found the Minimercado before. It was closed, so no more booze for the night. Another wickid lil runaround spotted though There seem to be lots of them in Portugal

I was starving! So we did our usual routine of undecidedly dismissing several restaurants, before finally popping into one, because the menu said they serve woodpecker (pica pau). Turns out that's a literal translation for a tapas style finger food. The waiter seemed like a real salesman at first, but then it turned out he really did want to find out what dishes would suit our taste the best (another lesson in cultural differences with language barriers...). Following some cross questioning, he got it spot on The salad of fresh octopus sashimi, finely chopped onion and red pepper in olive oil was yum! As was the cockles cooked in a mildly spicy onion and paprika sauce with buttered bread! Perfect!


Carlos phoned to say we shouldn't wait up for them, they were busy in town till late, having a coffee with Daniel (pre-wedding nerves?). Back at the flat we climbed the balcony again - we still had no idea as to what the trick to opening the door with the key was.


And then there was another dilemma: the only alcohol we had was the thank-you bottle of wine for Carlos and Micaela... So we opened it with a plan to buy another some time between leaving the house the next morning, and arriving at the wedding.

Sitting on the pink bed, glass of wine in hand, we flicked through the pages of the Atlas, planning our (sadly somewhat faster) route back to England, Ricardo's tips from yesterday evening in mind. Then we wrote our diaries and Aidan soon passed out. So I finished the wine, switched off the light, and passed out too

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Man, the Portuguese really know how to party. Apparently Daniel and Raquel put on a particularly good show, but even a fraction of that kind of partying on a regular basis would necessitate some serious training for the liver.

We started at about nine in the morning with an outdoor buffet laid out by Daniel's mum. Beer, wine, suckling pig and fried nibbles were all I could work my way through over the few hours spent catching up with guys I knew from London, and meeting some of Daniel and Raquel's school friends, and no-one's plate or glass was left empty for more than a few seconds. I'd gone to the party expecting to have to stand in the corner and entertain myself a bit, but between the guys I'd met the night before and our mutual London friends, I was kept entertained all morning. I suppose it helped that the older generation Portuguese guys there had heard about the crazy Londoners biking their way to the wedding and were happy to mime their way through conversations.

Eventually everyone was stuffed and started making their way to the church. A huge Late Gothic monastery in Batalha, I've been reliably informed that it's impossible even for locals to host their wedding here so how the guys managed to wrangle it I'll never know. Raquel did say that since she grew up in the shadow of that place it was going to happen there or not at all, so maybe her stubborn enthusiasm was too much even for the Catholics. While everyone was heading towards the church we jumped in the car with Bruno and drove to pick up his girlfriend Paula - one of Raquel's bridesmaids. We arrived just as Raquel was coming out of the house, bustling around with last minute preparations and apologising for not meeting up with us the night before. After watching her climb into the cherry red mustang they'd hired for the day and head to the church we jumped back in the car and followed.



By the time we arrived Daniel was already at the alter. It's a strange experience seeing friends get married in what's essentially the Portuguese equivalent of St Paul's, as tourists mill around taking pictures while the ceremony goes on. The priest kept the sermon mercifully short, given that I'd been warned about three hour services. Obviously I didn't understand a word, since it was in Portuguese, but it seemed mainly to consist of stern lectures on the benefits of staying within the church, broken up occasionally by a pretty cool string quartet playing hymns. Luckily they omitted the dodgy lyrics that usually accompany these things. The vows exchanged and papers signed in a side room, Daniel and Raquel walked out of the church, as the quartet launched in to a rendition of the Star Wars theme!


Outside we milled around in the sun, smoked and chatted while photographs were taken, then back in the car with Bruno and Paula for a typical bit of Portuguese style lunatic driving to the reception. A nice grass patch bounded by a shaded brick pergola hanging with lupini beans gave us a chance to get out of the sun, and a hexagonal stone gazebo serving as a bar was quickly engulfed by guests. I had a few s to start with, planning to pace myself and wait until everyone else was drunk before tucking in proper. More meat platters were passed around as Daniel and Raquel arrived in the mustang to much fanfare.

A few more drinks in and we noticed that the garden had cleared out as everyone moved inside to find their seats. We stood by the blackboard trying to work out where we were sitting when we noticed some frantic waving coming from table two. I guess the London collective had been grouped together. I won't go into loads of detail, because it would take pages and pages to describe all of the food that was laid out, but we started with an amazing five course meal, each paired with a different wine. Afterwards, over a coffee and a bit of digestion time the couple wandered round, chatting and introducing people to each other, and bending to a Portuguese tradition of the wedded couple meeting for a kiss when guests start pounding the table. All very quaint, but it gave us a chance to get some good pictures with the disposable cameras that had been left in the centre of each table. Of course the photos got more epic as the night went on and the wine flowed...


Once we'd digested enough to move, we headed out to the back garden, sporting a pool, jazz band, bouncy castle and another well stocked bar. I immediately settled in next to the latter and started throwing back the caipirinhas, and plenty of people followed suit. I have to admit things got a bit fuzzy after that, but there's a painfully detailed photo gallery that shows me sharing cigars and pimms, posing for some cheesy wedding pictures and watching the guys cut the cake (actually a pyramid of cupcakes). A few hours later, we were called in for another three course meal, followed by a buffet!


Towards the end of the night the guests started to thin out. I'd spent the last few hours sitting in the corner nursing whiskeys and watching the troopers who were still on the dancefloor, but eventually it was time to head off. We got a lift with Daniel's godfather who'd offered us a spot to crash on his couch, after stopping off at Daniel's place to drop off some leftovers. Once we got there, we figured we might as well stay with the bikes and save everyone the hassle of getting us back there in the morning so we drunkenly laid out our sleeping bags on the lawn next to the bikes and passed out.

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9am and we were woken up with a coffee. Daniel's mum was preparing another buffet breakfast in the courtyard, and had been checking on us periodically for signs of movement. Just time for a quick shower before people started arriving from the neighboring houses and emerging bleary eyed and hungover from various rooms. The party was soon back in full swing, with to wash down yesterday's leftovers and a chicken and orzo soup that did a great job of curing the hangover. And of course out came the iPads with plenty of embarrassing pictures from the night. Once we'd caught up with everyone, it was time to pack up and head off. One last for the road and with a worryingly large audience, we jumped on the bikes, wobbled up the drive and pointed our noses towards home.

We only had six days to get back to London, so we'd be sticking to bigger roads and with a lingering hangover to deal with we figured we'd just do a few hours riding and make camp early. Just the one stop for water (no food, since we've eaten a week's worth in the last couple of days). Cruising through Coimbra we were reacquainted with the country's incendiary tendencies as the fires had reached the roadside and had started slowing down traffic but we eventually found a nice spot to camp between Coimbra and Viseu in a forest just off the main road. We'd soon settled in, opened a bottle of port and marked up our route for the next few days and we had started writing our diaries when we heard a fire warning siren in the distance.


I wasn't too worried since we hadn't seen any smoke since Coimbra but Maria was less comfortable about things, and I figured erring on the side of caution would be the intelligent option anyway so we grabbed the bottle and the camera and hiked up the hill to see what we could see. While we didn't see any sign of a fire the scenery was amazing, and after pissing about with the camera for a bit we headed back to the tent where Maria no doubt lay awake worrying about our safety and listening to me snore.

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Woke up to the fire sirens going off! But no smoke or fire in sight, so we had some yummie bread and salami for breakfast, washed down with some fresh coffee Aidan brewed up on the sandy road (so as to not set fire to the forest).

Last night we had parked the bikes in the field down a steep slope from the road. The field was a lot bumpier than the knee-high grass had made it look, so we had left the bikes wherever they'd got stuck. This morning we had to somehow get them out again. Turns out Pippa had got caught on the grass and was in gear! No wonder she wasn't going anywhere. Aidan heroically rode the bikes up the slope, wriggling all over the place and kicking them upright every time they threatened to fall

Our trusty crappy Halfords foot pump that we had stolen from our previous landlords finally gave up this morning. But since we only did a few miles the day before, the tire pressure should be ok. Tomorrow we'll just use the electric one, that runs off the bikes' socket, but today it's just packed too deep in the bottom of the panniers! We loaded up and headed off east. The rush home meant big boring roads and lots of concentration. And I kept looking at the awesome landscape around us, yearning for the little winding roads, contemplating calling work and telling them we'd not come back before November.

Eventually we finally got off the motorway and I REALLY needed a pee! So Aidan led us off onto those lucrative tiny roads in search of a suitable bush or hedge to wee behind. A shepherd with his goats stopped us in our tracks and I fumbled frantically for my camera in the middle off a cross roads lest they disappear before I get a snapshot.


We found ourselves on a cobbled road amongst yellow fields enclosed by low stone walls and scrawny bushes dotted around. The fields were yellow because the grass had simply dried up in the scorching heat. So the farmers could simply mow the hay and bale it straight away without leaving it to dry first! As we rode on we watched cows and horses graze on hay. The fields were sprinkled with massive boulders and tiny trees and vineyards and sunflowers made a reappearance. And all the yellow and gold was topped off with bright blue skies! Stunning!


Then the gold was replaced by scantily planted rows of trees lining the mountain sides (olives maybe). The road twisted and turned its way through the landscape and a sign announced that we were in a national park. We stopped for coffee and stale bread with cheese by a water fountain.


After that the road started to climb and we had an awesome view of the lake (or was it a river?) in the valley. Took a few obligatory pictures of course.


Soon after we stopped again at a cross roads. Aidan's phone insisted that the road clearly signposted "Espahna" ended in the lake. But the map told tales of a bridge. From up the mountain it had looked like there was some sort of structure there, so we believed the map and rode towards the lake. It turns out it was actually a river and the bridge was the old border. Now the posts were deserted and we rode straight across. Welcome back to Spain!

The rest of the ride was rather uneventful. We drank too little water and spent ages trying to find a shop that was open. Turns out today was another Fiesta. A poster announced that everything would be closed today (2nd), 4th, 6th, 7th and 8th September. The fences were up and the towns were prepared for the bull runs. Sadly we didn't actually see any in full swing. we just remained hungry and thirsty. I am starting to think I want to find a job in Spain... they never work but always hang out in bars In the end we managed to find water, ice cream and tomato sauce.

Luckily we found a camping spot really easily that night as we were super exhausted. It meant riding down sandy paths through some pine trees. Of course I dropped my bike. So I jumped off and stomped after Aidan and stroppily told him off for riding on and on along the sand in the first place. He turned around and patiently helped me pick Seven back up. We wobbled on for a few more metres and just put up the tent in full view of anyone walking past.

You couldn't see us from the road and the guy walking past a few minutes later didn't seem to mind us at all. So we just pitched the tent and cracked open the wine. Aidan cooked a yum lil dinner and we wrote the diaries (not in the mood for that today, but its gotta be done, there is no way I'll remember everything otherwise!). Time to relax Another big ride tomorrow....

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