March 30, 2024
To Evora
I went to bed yesterday afternoon and stayed under the duvet for 14 hrs, waking up only when nature called. Each time, I quickly dozed off while sensing the energy drain through my legs as I fell back into a deep slumber. I woke around 6:30 to a gray, drizzly sky. Breakfast was not until 9 am, and for a nanosecond I considered exploring Monsaraz in the early morning hours. I was feeling better, but not that good. So I pulled up the duvet and worked on the journal.
The sleep had been restorative, and though the weather was gloomy my spirits were high. A good night’s sleep was not the only reason for my bright outlook – I would be taking a rest day in Evora, and the following day would meet up with Suzanne and Janos for nine days of cycling together. I just had to stay well.
I shared a nice breakfast with Steve, a cyclist from Vancouver who was on a loop tour through the Alentejo. A check of the weather suggested high probability of rain, with temperatures in the low 50s °F. Determined to stay warm and dry, I layered up with almost everything in my tool kit – two merino shirts, leggings, booties, vest, and windbreaker. Rainpants were at the top of my panniers and the raincoat on my back. I was ready for bear.
It was over 40 miles to Evora, with no significant dry window in which I might avoid getting wet. Without a need to hurry, I was determined to enjoy the ride, no matter what the weather gods threw at me. The biggest challenge I faced was getting safely down the steep cobbled streets of Monsaraz. Fortunately, it was not raining when I left at the relatively late hour of 10:15, and I was soon wending my way on quiet roads through Sao Pedro Do Corval to Reguengos de Monsaraz.
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1 month ago
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The sun was shining when I arrived in Reguengos de Monsaraz, a small town with a bustling center. I spied a pastry shop and pulled over, ordering an expresso and two pastries – one for then and one for the road. I sipped my coffee and observed the Saturday morning rituals of a small town - the gatherings of families and friends, the joy of children as they romped about the square. I could have lingered in the warmth of this town, but I had places to be.
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The sunshine did not last long. The skies darkened and the rain began, a steady rain, a pelting rain. I sought relief in a bus shelter in the tiny hamlet of Falcoeiras, slipping on my rain pants and rain hood before heading back into the wet. The rain had lessened a bit and my mind was in that blank space where random thoughts enter and leave of their own volition. Within a half-mile of leaving Falcoeiras, some small subconscious inventory process surfaced, wondering if I had my camera. After confirming it was neither in my handlebar bag or my raincoat pocket, I turned back, almost certain I would find it on the bus stop bench. And there it was, to my relief.
Also to my relief was that the rain stopped and the sun emerged from the clouds. The next fifteen miles were glorious, a wonderful route along the empty roads of the Alentejo, the best of the tour so far. I was warm, dry and sailing along through a rolling world of technicolor green – it was astounding.
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I still hadn’t completely shed my cold and my energy started to flag a bit as a neared Evora. The map indicated a small town a few miles ahead that I targeted for a rest stop, hoping that it might be a real town and not just a label on a map. Happily it was the former, and I pulled into a small bar at the main crossroad in Nossa Sra. de Machede. I ordered a Fanta to accompany my sandwich and morning pastry and savored a brief rest in the sunshine.
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Leery of weekend traffic going into Evora, I had plotted a backdoor route that included a bit of unpaved road. However, traffic was not bad on the N254 highway into town, and I debated whether to continue on the direct route, or to take my alternate route. The wind had picked up considerably, so I chose the quiet road. It seemed a good choice, the dirt was fairly hard-packed and the sound of sheep bells was much more enjoyable than the roar of the wind. The route zigged and zagged and at one point directed me through a closed gate. I kept on, as there appeared to be connecting road ahead. Doubt crept in as the surface deteriorated to a double-track with large puddles, often covering the entire roadway. But it wasn’t long before I reached pavement, albeit a very bumpy road that had been patched and re-patched many times over.
I was still feeling pretty good about my choice until I found myself directed up what appeared to be an exit ramp. I dismounted, cautiously walking up to N18, a large artery into Evora. The road was not too busy and had a wide shoulder, so I hopped on and was soon on the small cobbled alleyways searching for my apartment. After a bit of wandering, I located the red door and managed to retrieve the key from the lock box just as it started to rain.
I showered, went out for Indian food and crawled into bed, capping off what had been the longest but the best day of the tour thus far.
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Today's ride: 42 miles (68 km)
Total: 276 miles (444 km)
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1 month ago