I wake up so early i hear the sounds of farm roosters only after one hour I'm pedaling.
As I move towards Vila do Bispo the cold air hits me like a sucker punch, problem fixed once I wear a jacket and eat a calorie filled breakfast.
For some reason Portugueses like to nail tuna cans to eucalyptus trees in picnic areas, I wonder if it has to do with eucalyptus being a pest imported from abroad and locals try to kill them. Or, you know, drunk shenanigans when you hage nails and tuna cans nearby; who knows.
In Vila do Bispo I meet Mark, a cyclist sporting a Warrior cycling suit. As we pedal towards Sagres he explains to me it's a UK/US charity for war veterans that lost limbs or suffer from post traumatic stress disorder. We reach his house and his lovely lady, and I have my very first 101% British cuppa with milk.
They are so kind and we share views on life in Portugal as expats and the European crisis, they dispatch me with maps and a bag of British tea. MEGATHANKS!
I reach Lagos late at night and decide to stwy that a couple of days to recharge batteries, these days I have been training a lot and doing more than expected:
While cycling I meet a farmer that is picking caracois near Lagos, the small snails you can find in every portuguese bar in the summer.
He explains to me how they are cleaned and then stir fried in olive oil with garlic, salt and some onion. Add a little water and let it cook a bit and you're done. Great with some copos in hot summer afternoons he says!
Over and out,