Day 14 - The Big Iberian Trip - Sagres

After 13 days heading south, today's ride reached a milestone. This afternoon we reached the Portuguese equivalent of Land's End and, instead of south, for the next 250kms or so until Seville we will be traveling east. We have turned an important corner. We're now in Sagres which, despite giving it's name to Portugal's most popular beer, is a bleak and very windy place.

Day 13 The Big Iberian Trip - Odeciexe

After an overlong first day, a second day spoilt by navigational cock-ups, Christine's third day on the Big Iberian Trip went to plan. Helped by the distance, it was only 55km long, flat roads and very strong tail wind, we arrived at our destination without any significant moans or groans. If only every day could be like this.

Day 12 - The Big Iberian Trip - Vila Nova de Milfontes

Today didn't go that well, a combination of confusing road signs, poor navigation, and well intentioned but misleading advice meant that not only have we been led up the garden path but along a motorway as well.

Day 11 The Big Iberian Trip - Near the back of beyond

What would have been an excellent first day for Christine on the Atlantic Eurovelo was sadly spoilt by a complete breakdown in discipline towards it's end. If this was a football game Christine would now be facing a three day ban.

It was a hard start to the day. Staying down on the coast meant we had to climb 170m up through the town to rejoin the route. That went well, and was followed by a really lovely stretch of gravel cycling through high pasture dotted with beautiful Corsican pine looking like giant sprigs of broccoli.

Day 10 - The Big Iberian Trip - Sesimbra

It's great when a plan works. Christine flew out this morning from London, I met her at the airport, we cycled across Lisbon, caught a ferry and then cycled cross country to Sesimbra. We've cut a corner in terms of the Eurovelo route but we're now perfectly positioned to rejoin it tomorrow and continue our journey south.

I was worried about today and when I started cycling out the station in Lisbon it seemed that my concern was justified. The combination of hills, cobbled streets and ancient trams was lethal. Then I clicked into the cycle ways, devised a route to the airport along a cycle route and it was all fine.

Bigger report back when we get back on the route.

Day 9 The Big Iberian Tour - Cascais

Tomorrow is the most complicated day of the whole trip and to give myself plenty of time to get nice and stressed, I arrived at Cascais early. I'm​ now just outside Lisbon in a beautiful resort just to the west of the capital. Tomorrow Christine arrives and I've got to get across the city to meet her at the Airport. If her bike has survived the trip, we have then got to navigate across the city, get a ferry over the river, and find our way through Lisbon's southern suburbs to a resort on the coast. There's a lot to go wrong and perhaps we should have stayed in Lisbon tomorrow night. Unfortunately we don't have any spare days before we get to Seville (Christine has to go back to the UK) so the schedule is sacrosanct.

I've had an interesting day. It started with a definite fashion bloomer. The big question is whether or not to go to breakfast in your cycling gear. Now I'm full, no compromise Lycra person, total MAMIL, although in my case it should be OAPIL, and I don't hedge my bets by wearing baggy mountain bike shorts. Full Lycra is definitely OK if there is no one else there or if you are in a group and have gained critical mass with other Lycras. Today neither circumstance applied and when I walked into the packed breakfast room in full battle dress, wandering around trying to find an empty table, the room went quiet.

Day 8 The Big Iberian Tour - Praia das Maçás

I'm eating very well in Portugal. I get breakfast in the hotel, take pot luck on the coffee which varies from OK to terrible; get a coffee later in the cafe (incredibly cheap and generally good); a snacky thing like a sandwich for lunch and then a single course in the evening, usually fish. Last night I had polpo, (octopus) which is standard fare further up the coast in Galicia where it is served chopped up with beans. Here the approach was different and I was presented with a whole boiled octupus with artily positioned crushed potatoes and loads of garlic. It was the house specialty and they seemed to think that I come to the Santa Cruz just to eat it. Getting through it was a challenge particularly as my progress was closely observed. I think it will be my last octopus for a while.