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November 30 Wednesday Bicycle touring Portugal
from El Gordo Portugal to a farmer's shed in Spain An old fella from the Netherlands who is in the campground with a camping van comes over to talk to us. He brings over two big pots of tea and some biscuits. Talk about hospitality for bicycle touring tourists. After walking along the sparkling Mediterranean we cycle out of El Gordo at 3 PM. We catch a ferry across the Rio Guadiana River into Spain. When I boarded the ferry with my fully loaded touring bicycle, I said Obrigado (thank-you) to the ticket taker. He said, "You're in Espanola now -- it's 'gracious'." (Actually, I don't think I'm in Spain until the halfway point across the river ... but I try not to make it a habit of arguing with burly sailors. Everything is shut down for the midday break when we cycle into Spain. This break begins anywhere around noon and lasts until 5 PM. Luckily, we don't have to shop for supper as we are still lugging last night's mega-shopping expedition's treats. We are looking for a free bicycle camping spot. A green patch on our map -- supposedly indicating forest -- fails to materialize. Spain is more populated that Portugal. It is beginning to get dark. We cycle for a ways before spotting a couple of trees in an orchard alongside the road. Some people are across the road, so, on Sharon and Susan's insistence, I go and ask them for permission to camp. "No camping here," they kindly tell me. "Camping hotel," they say, pointing back in the direction we had just cycled in from. I told them that I'm going the other direction. I thanked them for their generosity, got back on my fully loaded touring bicycle and pedaled off in the opposite direction from the camping hotel. We cycle down the road a ways before coming to a road by a patch of trees. It is marked private. We bike down the road for a ways and come to a chain across the road. We turn back to the main road. A hotel-bar is on one side of the road. A farmer's house is nearby. We have a group discussion on our overnight camping choices. Should we just take our chances and set up in the scrub trees beside the road? Or should I ask at the hotel and see if we can set up on their property? or should we take a chance and ask the farmer if we can set up on his property? Decisions, decisions. We decide to ask at the farmhouse first. Isn't bicycle touring fun? A motherly woman answers the door. In the growing dark, she eyes us suspiciously. I explain we are from Canada, we're cycle touring in Spain, and ask if we can camp here? Without a word, she continues looking us up and down. Having Sharon and Susan sniffling in the background just behind me is sure to help. At least it can't hurt. The woman says she will go and ask the men. In a moment she returns, says, "No problem, follow me," and leads us to a field -- which in the darkness looks like it has recently been plowed. Sharon goes off to scout it out for a chunk of grass and reasonable flatness. A man appears and requests for us to follow
him. He shows us a shed. After much questioning on whether he
wants us to stow our bikes in there for the night or if he wants
us inside there too, he shows us a bed in one of the three rooms
and that there is electricity. Then he shows us a washroom we
can use which is in another building, separate from the main
house. The man patiently explains everything to us three times
until we all nod and say "Si." |
