Day 20
Well with the best of intentions I arrived at my friends house in Galicia in late February. Then suddenly, like almost every other place on the plant, I was unable to travel due to the alleged pandemic. As news of borders re-opening and travel being permitted once again started to circulate, I got the bike ready to move. I fitted new Mitas E-07 tires, carried out an oil and filter change, the engine tappets and the wheel spokes were adjusted as required, a new touring seat purchased and fitted, the brake fluid was changed and both calipers cleaned and greased. I got a set of custom made side plates to stop my soft throwover panniers tucking in on the back wheel and because of the broken rear indicator stem that I picked up when an old man in a car side swiped me in Italy the previous year, I got indicator protectors built in to the plates and once these were fitted the bike was good to go.
After saying goodbye to all, I set off West in the direction of Vigo on the Atlantic coast and following the route of the river Minho, I rode along the N120 and within a few hours I was at the beach in Vigo.
It was good to be on the road again and getting re-accustomed to sitting on the bike all day and I spent 2 nights at a very nice hostel for 18 Euros per night. The place was actually better than a lot of much more expensive hotels that I have previously stayed at.
Day 21
After my two days of rest I was off down the West coast of Spain and over the Border and in to Portugal, a country I had not been in since 1990. Later that day I entered the city of Porto but as with most big cities the one way traffic system started to drive me nuts, so after going around in circles for a while I decided to leave and push on in to the hills of central Portugal and on my way I passed by an enormous dam.
I rode on South and the road in parts was sometimes almost single track and then sometimes a 2 lane road but all the time it climbed up the hills and went down in to the valleys, constantly winding and twisting. The roads here can match most of the alpine passes that I have crossed for the number of hairpin turns if not grandeur and scale of the Alps mountains. Early in the evening, I stopped for the night at a rural hostel to the West of Coimbra, once again a very nice place for 19 Euros a night. This place sat just off the N2 road, which runs from the Spanish border in the North all the way to the city of Faro on the South coast.
Day 22
The next day the sun was shining and it was warm, so it was South on the N2/ As the hills receded the flat plains took over and by late afternoon the temperature had risen to 42 degrees celsius and riding in that was like having someone put a hairdryer in your face. It was one of the hottest days I have ever ridden on and I took the opportunity to take the bike out on to a sandbank in a reservoir alongside the N2 near Montargil to try to cool both it and me down a little near the water.
Later that afternoon I was glad to stop at the town of Beja for the evening where I spent the night at another nice but basic hostel for the sum of 22 Euros.
Day 23
The next morning I was up and away early. My destination was the home of a friend who I had not seen for 25 years, and later that day it was with great pleasure that I met her again later that day at her home near the city of Portimao. The bike had now developed a leak in the rocker cover gasket and my friend very graciously allowed me to stay with her till I could repair it. So I spent the next few days attending to that.