Hills, Chickens, Cycling and Birds

Chave Grande is a wonderful campsite, set in the hills of mid Portugal. The route the main(ish) road is a little narrow and twisty but that is quite usual here. It is set in a valley and so one has views along the valley and up into hills.

As we drew into the site we were immediately met by a lady who requested that we left the vehicle and joined her in the bar for a welcome drink. Now that is new and we have never experienced that before. We both chose wine, local from the Douro region as it was explained to us what was on offer. This included walks, bread, chickens, and excursions in to Douro valley. The bar was certainly well laid out, open all day and with free wifi.

So having sorted out the basics we then headed off to find a place to pitch up and set up our chairs and tables. This took a while as, since we are in a valley, the land is sloped. However, we found a spot, got everything connected and were soon enjoying the peaceful surroundings. Except that is for the twittering of numerous birds and the rich warbling of an unseen bird high in the trees somewhere close.

This bird proved elusive. Not the many Jays who rushed about looking for anything their beaks could seize. Bright and colourful, they were not the cause of the songs we heard. And we continued to look with little success.

Cycling is not proving that easy. Here one is faced with hills either up or down and very little flat. Mercifully, the roads have little traffic but it is, nevertheless a challenge as it is nice to have some respite form the continual undulations. Yesterday I attempted to cycle to Sateo, a modest trip of about 7 miles. Hard at the start, as I got into some form of rhythm the return trip was a little easier but, having started with a long downhill one finishes with the opposite. Success of some sort and at least I managed a ride, the first in about 10 days.

Today was different. With my ride yesterday taking only about 70 minutes I decided to go further and see how it went. It went well! That is until I made the return trip. It ought to be simple. When one turns left at a junction and then cycles on for 10 kms the return trip requires the opposite sort of actions; turn right at the same junction. Well, yes, if one recognises it, that is. Now, I knew that I needed a sign to the village of Lamas but one did not appear. So I kept going, increasingly bewildered by bits of the road I did not remember. However, I know that when cycling it is very easy for me to miss lots of things like signposts and other indicators because my focus is more on cycling than on the scenery. Consequently, I was not sure whether I had been this way before or not. Then a downhill with the ominous sign that is was a 7% climb but it looked right; the turn must be down here on the right so I kept going. Wrong decision!!

My painful and increasingly concerned climb back up this hill eventually bore fruit with a sign for the campsite: 12 km to go. This was all very well but I still needed the turn off. Fortunately, it soon came up and the problem became clear: Lamas does not exist! (See photographs for clarification). Never mind I knew all was well and I just had to negotiate the remaining four climbs. After the first I stopped briefly, drank and ate a little and set off. As I entered Lamas (yes it does exist) the dreaded 'bonk' began to reveal itself. For those who do not know it means, the effect is that one loses any real strength in the legs, peddling becomes much harder and the brain slowly ceases to work effectively. It is the feeling of having very little energy. I had set off without the extra food I needed for the longer ride. It was a real battle to get home but I made it but was left feeling somewhat drained. The walk, probably a trudge, across the campsite was hard and very slow.

A long afternoon and plenty of food later I have almost recovered I am already looking forward to the next ride. However, I have begun to notice a noise on the bike when having to work hard on the pedals, a clunk or grind so I have to hope it does not get worse so I can keep on riding. Flat roads would be a bonus!

As I sat in my chair, wearily looking over the grasses and under the trees a few tree creepers flitted about searching for their mate. The Jays flashed around and then, a flash of yellow on a low flying, fast moving bird as it scurried into the trees to skulk and hide. The song of the Golden Oriel had given way to the actual bird, so tough so see but luck and patience paid dividends.

Supper was to be a roast chicken from the 'chicken man' who was due at 4 pm. Having taken out order we had to return at 6 pm when it would be ready. And it was, hot off the spit, cooked flat and with a piri piri dusting it certainly was good. No cooking, just sit and tuck in. Joy!

We expect to saty fro a few more days to enjoy the surroundings!