Day 7-8: Sangres to Portimao

Day 7: Sangres to Portimao (70km)

Weather: Strange: either sunny and clear or raining.  Low70s.
Bike: No problems. 
Traffic/roads: moderate traffic, mostly large less pleasant roads.

Portugal, I just can't stay mad at you.  Sure, most of the ride today was along a busy highway, but at least it had wide shoulders, so it was unpleasant rather than death defying like the middle of day one.  And sure, I drifted into the Algave proper, which I could concisely describe as "the Florida of Europe'", with seemingly endless development along the otherwise lovely coastline, but then you give me a wrong turn that ended in an incredible beach, a break in the clouds, a cozy beach side bar, and all is forgiven. 

And to make sure there were no hard feelings, Portugal, you gave me this place I am currently writing from.  A quick internet search of hostels from the seaside bar WiFi showed a "hostel" smack in the middle of a cluster of very high end high rise hotels.  I had trouble finding it due to a baffling street plan, lack of address numbers, and no sign on the place, but an inquiry at a local bar uncovered a friend of the couple that runs the place.  It turned out to be a villa that had been converted into a 3-room b and b (but without the second b).  There was no one staying in it all weekend so essentially I got a whole 19th century sea side villa (with terrace overlooking the beach)  to myself for 20 euros.  Needing a rest day, I quickly made that 2 nights, and the incredibly helpful family that owns the place quickly and very cheaply arranged for laundry to be done, a surf lesson for the next day at the beach across the street, and detailed information about my route over the next couple of days. 

I planned to go strolling around the ritzy casino down the street that evening, but some wine on the terrace and a home-cooked meal later, I was on the couch reading a book and could not have been happier.  Sleep soon took me into a welcoming embrace.

Day 8: Portimao "rest day."

Weather: sunny, mid-70s
Waves: 2 meters
Wind: approx 10-15 knots ssw
Alex: full-on stoked, brah!

Today was simple.  Awoke, ate breakfast on terrace, walked on beach, went to the surf school, and got my surf on.  Surf instructors were no disappointment: bleach-blond hair, broad smiles, lots of upper-body development, and skin tanned to the bone.  Though I have only been surfing 3-4 times in my life, they have been in some exciting places, including Peru and Maui, but these experiences have been strung over two decades, so I took the beginner class.  These classes not being exactly rigid, I actually remembered a fair amount and the bumped me to intermediate for the afternoon.

That sounds kind of impressive, and I suppose I am proud that I met my goal of getting a 10 percent success rate on the real waves you actually have to catch (as opposed to the baby waves inside the break).  The waves were kinder at high tide in the afternoon than in the morning, shaped more like ramps than collapsing cliffs, and this helped considerably. 

Now did I do this with any sort of grace? No.  Would a passerby assume that someone had put a wetsuit on a spastic ape and thrown him into the sea?  Perhaps.  Did I so completely fill my sinuses with wipeout seawater that a giant jet of hot water flew out of my nose an hour ago? Yes, and once a side, actually. And did I actually get any rest on my rest day? Of course not.  But I sure as heck made the most of a great day and had a lot of fun doing so. 

I another life I could have easily been a surfer rather than a skier.  It has much the same feel of the gravity-sport carve, and you are also constantly at the whim of the weather.  And since surfing is primarily what the whole west coast and most of the south coast of Portugal is about, it would have been a shame not to go at least once.  Would be sort of going to Moan and not mountain biking or Portland and not getting a regrettable tattoo.

But I am beat, and beat up.  Tomorrow it's back on the bike for more adventure, drifting away from the coast for a day or to for the much less developed (and hopefully more bike-friendly) interior Algavre.