Cavar um poico mais.


Somewhere NW of Coimbra, nice and high. 
Location: Porto, Portugal
Pictures: here
Video: here

I owe Portugal an apology. Won't be my first to a place, maybe my first to a country though. Six hours (literally) north of the town of Porgatorio, things have a bit of a different tinge to them. A beautiful, orange, warm tinge.

I think I'm pretty good at adapting, and I like mysterious things, I like the unknown. I like not knowing where I'm going or where I'm riding or sleeping, but I guess I can get pretty easily frustrated too. So, Portugal, I'm sorry.

1st haircut in 5 weeks...
I combined the drive yesterday from Lisbon to Porto with a ride in the middle. I rode from Coimbra and into the mountains through these ancient little towns.

You go through them in maybe less than a minute. And in that minute, there might be an old woman asleep on a chair under an umbrella outside of her door, but there will be groups of men sunning and drinking coffee and beer at the only cafe, and the youngin's will be kicking around a soccer ball and donkeys and cabbage patches and clothes drying on the lines.

And always, there is a woman sweeping or tending to a garden. No exceptions.

It was a gorgeous day with beautiful views, and I'm fucking sacked from the ride and my (driving/walking/sitting at cafe's/sampling ports) tour of Porto today. And I'm tackling some pretty big ones tomorrow, so I'll leave you with the video.

From it, you can probably tell I got the hop back in my step. Back to Spain tomorrow.


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