Day 6 of my Lisbon2Istanbul trip, german glampers and pure Algarve hospitality

While waiting for the camping office to open so I could checkout I strolled in the local market, the venha cá mi amor by one of the fruit ladies almost convinced me to buy groceries there, but our love ended when she told me bananas are 1.20 euro/kg.

Asked directions to a guy and turns out today he's going my same way with a group of customers, german glamping biketourers.

While I was biking by the cliffs in front of the ocean I was thinking how lucky I am, considering there is people paying hefty sums of cash just to be able to sniff under the tail of adventure.

Bought 4 carapaos, a blue fish that is like the big brother of sardine. I grilled them at a picnic place and had a biblical meal: bread, water and fish like it's old testament.

Cycled until I found Odiceixes, a beautiful spot where river Seixe meets Mr Ocean for a date.

Ran finding groceries before shops close, the owners were very unkind and gave me a bad vibe.

When I asked to the minimarket lady if she knew any spot where I could sleep she gave me a speech about camping sites and cops and fines and we are tired of freeloaders we pay taxes and no there is also no free water for you. Such a heartwarming experience that I gave up sleeping there and doing my first swim, fuck this place.

Raced the sun and reached Aljezur, one of those medieval towns on rivers that became passée with industrialization and modern transportation.

No place where to go and i have about a hour light shit shit shit

I pass Aljezur, banana powerup and race uphill, trying to find a publicly accessible woodland where to stealth camp.

I am now in Algarve I guess.

Sun disappears and a farmer comes out of the road, pushing a cartful of potatoes. I try my luck and ask him if he knows any place around here where I could camp without disturbing anyone and he offers me his patio.

Miguel is one of those old gentlemen carved in the wood of ship masts, hands as big as a farm tool.

In the local sotaque that he speaks, which sounds half Spanish and a quarter Italian, he tells me not to worry because in his house i am safe.

We chat about his life working in Dusseldorf, building Opel cars. He met a lot of unlucky people and likes to help who needs; he tells me that if one gives something, it's because he doesn't need it.

He prepares me a vegetable soup made with ingredients from his land and offers me a homemade chouriço for my trip.

Tired as a dead dog, very grateful for the kindness i find in this world

Go out more and ask things, people is nice.

Crashing right meow-

Over and out,



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