At the end of our longest day so far with fully loaded bikes, we simply sought pasta, and somewhere quiet to sleep. Instead, where the campsite should have been we found a car park next to a fairground staging re-enactments of the siege of Sarajevo until 3 in the morning. The hotel (staffed by an insomniac Hermann Munster) in which we took refuge did have the luxury of walls and a roof but the courtyard´s acoustics were just perfect for the never-ending crescendo of fire-works from the fair. Bah humbug.
Elvas, another walled city, with an incredibly well restored ancient aquaduct, indicates that we are indeed following an old Roman route East. Again, our craving for pasta was thwarted, although the provision of bifa al portugesa (minute steak, fried eggs, bacon cooked in socks, and chips fried with the obligatory garlic) meant we did not have to make do with ****ing leaves.
Day 95.4km (total 282.7km) - Bum pain rating 3/5