It’s reassuring to know that the English are not the only race who insists on speaking slower and louder in their own language when they suspect someone doesn’t understand them; The French who parked behind us yesterday left early this morning – I think in disgust at the lack of understanding amongst the Portuguese.
The sea wasn’t as wild as it had been when we arrived last night, and the sun was threatening to make an appearance so we got moving mid morning after dippy eggs (that weren’t so dippy) and bread. The roads are much worse than in Spain and the map we have is almost worthless… all the numbers are different and the roads that appear as one continuous route on paper are actually a collection of different roads joined by mazes of one-way streets. Thank heavens for the TomTom.
We stopped for lunch at Mira beach and continued along the coast towards Figueira da Roz. We are currently camped in the pine woods opposite the town on the estuary. And when I say in the woods, I mean between trees only 8 feet apart which almost touch the van on all sides! Our cable is only 10 metres long which limits our parking options, especially at campsites with such huge gaps between electricity outlets.
Our Portuguese isn’t great and since we are both a country behind most of the time, many people are still getting the worst of our Spanish – we have yet to negotiate the Portuguese shopping experience. Thankfully fuel payment (although hideously expensive) is dealt with by a pump attendant.
“Adventure is a path. Real adventure – self-determined, self-motivated, often risky – forces you to have firsthand encounters with the world. The world the way it is, not the way you imagine it. Your body will collide with the earth and you will bear witness. In this way you will be compelled to grapple with the limitless kindness and bottomless cruelty of humankind – and perhaps realize that you yourself are capable of both. This will change you. Nothing will ever again be black-and-white.” –Mark Jenkins