Bike tour- days 5 and 6

Day 5- Vila Nova De Milfontes to Aljezar (70 km)

Weather: Partly cloudy and high 60s
Roads: mostly light traffic
Bike: Running sweetly

A relatively mellow day as far as scenery went, mostly through rolling farmland with a few attractive villages along the way.  Early on, I was once again led astray by my paper map, which fails to distinguish between the most minor paved roads (bike touring gold) and gravel or dirt road (bike touring, um, lead). So though I did have a scenic adventure in the morning and was really lost per se, I did do a considerable amount of huff in, puffing, and then pushing as my route deteriorated from bad pavement to gravel to dirt and then steep sand. 

But soon enough I popped out onto the main road, which was pretty lightly trafficked, and made excellent time south.  My plan over this day and the next was to get to the southwest extremity of Portugal, so even though I had a little daylight left and some gas still in the tank, I stopped for the night in Aljezar, setting myself up for another 65 to 70 km day.  Also, Aljezar is an wonderfully attractive little village on a hill topped with a 10th century Moorish castle.  Some city planners have been nice enough to place bilingual interpretive signs all over the historic quarter of town and the castle, facilitating a very satisfying post-ride walk ending with a sunset observation from the castle.  This combined with finding a very cheap room at a great hostel filled as usual with lots of interesting, active and outgoing people, and hey, thumbs up Aljezar. 

I am noting with some satisfaction my range increasing and the next-day consequences lessening as my body grows used to this routine.  Taking a break yesterday paid off, particularly with my back, which these days gets angry with me when I try to do things too hard too fast.  Also I have figured out services available, the unfamiliar food in stores, my borrowed camp stove, etc. so I am eating better, much cheaper, and more regularly.  Anyway, I write this lounging in bed when there is food downstairs, a bike to pack, and the promise of amazing scenery today! 

Day 6- Aljezar to Sagres (60 km)

Weather: Partly cloudy in morning, clearing all day.  Low 70s.
Roads: mostly light traffic, almost none on minor roads
Bike: all systems go.

So I made it to the very tip-toe of Europe today, first riding to the lighthouse at Cabo Sto. Vicinte, then Pointa De Sagres (pronounced Sah-gresh). Started the day with a nice breakfast and sendoff from my new hostel friends from last night, and soon I was once again led astray by the ambiguously marked white roads on the map, and ended up on a full-blown mountain bike ride, on logging roads except with a 100+ pound bike and skinny touring tires.  Still scenic as heck, though, and at least I got dumped out more or less where I planned.  The main road I was trying to avoid was actually fine anyway, little traffic and beautiful farmland, and I contained the pattern of gaining and losing the same 450 vertical feet that I've been doing for the last couple days.  The difference came as I approached the extreme southwest coast, and then climbed to a relatively high flat plateau south of Vila do Bisbo.  I could then see the water closing in on three sides, and taking another risk (successful this time) on minor roads, I cut across the open farmland to the lighthouse at the end of the continent.  As you may expect, it,s up on a high cliff and has a little fort around it and is spectacular and dramatic, as the huge waves off the open Atlantic smash into the rocky cliffs far below.  

After visiting the small museum there, I headed down the southern coast for the first time a few kilometers to the town of Sagres, where I made camp at the now-familiar "campismo" facility, grabbed a shower, set up camp, and headed out  on the unladen bike to the point proper just south of town to see the impressive 18th-century fortress similarly perched on the edge of a 200-foot cliff straight into the oven on 3 sides.  Though maybe not quite as Romantic as the older castles (18th and 19th century artillery was a little hard on tall thin walls) it was still really cool, and the setting sun made the views from the cannon batteries as dramatic as could be.  Also the whole spit was limestone, and the sea over the eons had honeycombed caves all through the middle of it, so that here and there there were vents in the rock that shot out great moaning jets of compressed air every time a wave filled the sea cave below.  Also there were a lot of interpretive signs, which I believe I have previously expressed my approval of.

And now I write you amid the ruins of yet another very reasonably priced seafood dinner.  "I Believe I can Fly" plays on the restaurant stereo, and I believe I can take that as my cue to exit back to campismo, another great day in the books!