We navigated through a few small towns and were pleased to see dozens of road cyclists out in pelotons. They were dressed head to toe, but not with face masks... they know how to ride in 8C weather along the ocean.
We stopped for gas and a map, and I bought a large coffee out of a fancy coin operated machine. It was seriously potent, despite being 1/6th the size of a small at home. We also got some breakfast sandwiches at the gas station restaurant. It seems truck stop sandwiches are held to a higher standard than at home.
We drove east up into the mountains on beautiful roads. The German cars were out in force again, but generally the roads were empty. Sports cars actually make sense here, driving a twisty highway at 150km/h in a little Porsche Boxter is getting your money's worth. Driving it in stop and go traffic at home, or on a highway with low speed rules, doesn't seem to be fair.
We passed Gouarda, a large town on a mountain, and turned south towards Belmonte. From there it was tricky to see the downtown corner for Sortelha. The road to Sortelha was tertiary, rather rough pavement (in fairness, other than cobbles, it's the first time we've come across anything but glass smooth pavement thus far). It was lined with trees and little farms. We made an abrubpt left and started a windy forest climb to town.
The town of Sortelha itself might have 150 houses. There's a giant castle on the hill, with the town sprawled out below. It's probably not far off the stories of rural Slovakia that I've heard from my mom. We did one pass through and found the place we had hoped to stay at. The doors were open, we walked around, but nobody was there. A lady across the street, who's a viscountess of the town, saw us and spoke a little english. She said the people were away, but phoned some lady to come and help us. She said we could stay, and for her efforts I bought a little local history book from her store. Somehow all this took about an hour.
The place is indeed empty, but the lady who came to help us let us look at all the rooms and choose one. First, they always let you look at rooms before committing. We've got a key to the house and a key to the room. It's a pretty cool old granite building, the window sills have granite seats carved into them so you can look out... a lot of work for an old school feature. The door to ours is only 12" wide. I'd guess it's 3,500 square feet overall, with 2 rooms on ground floor, plus kitchen and living room (with a fully stoked fire tonight), and 4 rooms upstairs. Apparently someone will drop by to make breakfast.
We saddled up to ride quickly. I started up a the steep sidestreet we were on. Somehow this led us to the local soccer field, then behind to a gravel road (gravel is more like ash tray sand here, it's all granite and quartz, but pea sized). We descended the gravel for a while, then went off on some forest path. It was awesome. After a little out and back, climbing a hill put the next mountain's wind turbines in perspective so the looked like they were at the end of our path. Naturally, my mind was set, we were going to the top.
We crossed our gravel road and started climbing the mountain. It was kind of like Moose Mountain but with different paths. They were either sand/gravel and smooth, or lumpy granite and more like a trials course. We rode several kilometers, then leaned the bikes against a rock and hiked. The entire mountain has rocks arranged on it to allow more surface for grass and/or for cows to walk around more easily. I can't imagine how much work went into it, but certainly equates to numerous lifetimes of labour. We hiked up a valley toward an old house that was probably just a day (or few day) outpost when the cows were up high. It was probably half way up. Once it got steep I decided to go as fast as I could, sometimes hopping on rocks is easier than long/slow lunge type movements. It was about 90 minutes we figure.
At the top were two huge wind turbines, and the wind picked up just as we were leaving so we could hear it "shift" internally and the blades really started moving. It's so hard to have any useful perspective when looking up to blue sky beyond, but I'd guess that each blade was at least 10m, maybe 15, for total size of 20-30m. They made a cool sound. About 15 turbines could be seen on the hills in a 10km radius of where we were. It gave us a great view of three surrounding valleys, and we could see 6 little towns.
We hiked down pretty quick, and rode back to the gravel road. We continued along it to a paved road, through Quarta Fiera and rode up the valley then up the mountain we were on, but from another side, to the town of Aguas Belas. This is prime cycling land - beauty roads, no traffic, and huge climbs that are steep. I loved this hill and this valley, sure there's probably lots like it, but it just epitomized why euro-cycling is so fantastic. Looking at maps, a local should be able to connect probably 6 towns like this in a day, and since there's a dozen or more in cycling range, the combinations would be fantastic. Aguas Belas didn't have any agua to speak of, so I don't know what the name refers to. We wound through the streets (yes, both of them) and had some local dogs all riled up with our presence.
It was starting to cool as we headed back, and the sun was getting ready to set. After the blazing descent, we climbed back up the gravel road to Sortelha, just arriving at the top in time for the sun set. We rode to the castle in dusk, and explored around for 45 minutes. We'll go back in the morning for some photos, but it's hard to describe how neat this stuff is. We live in a society where things a couple years old aren't worth keeping around, and in places like this, history and current life are totally intertwined.
We rode back down to town, and by chance passed the lady who came over to the house earlier. She knew were out biking, and although she didn't see us leave, it only took a few seconds to put two and two together. Tori showered, and I had a bath. Mental note that the "c" handle is for "calor" or "caliente" and the "f", which in cursive writing can be mistaken for an "h" at a glance stands for "frio". While I was relaxing in the bath, Tori went to the car. She locked herself out of the house, so when I opened the bedroom window 20 minutes later, I saw an eager face jumping up and down in the driveway. Knocking or yelling made her feel like she was waking up the town, plus there's something about 18" thick granite walls that tells you that's a bit futile. Before leaving for dinner, we found the laundry machine to do some clothes. It's newer and more advanced than the fancy Kenmore ones I bought two years ago. It's a Daewoo two in one (ie washer and dryer), fully digital, with a countless number of options on the was and dry cycles. It's also about as easy to use as an ipod, which is helpful given the menus didn't have words we understood. Put in clothes, leave, 2 hours later they're ready. I tried so hard to find one for home like this, I want to look again. At the time they were either tiny, or only condensing dryers.
We walked up to a restaurant in the castle for dinner. To say it was excellent is a total understatement. We had soup and salad appetizers. It's somewhat apparent here that food relies on cooking talent moreso than exotic ingredients. Sort of like my mom's upbringing. The items that are served are what comes out of the ground nearby. Almost every house has gardens, meaning a garden that's purpose is food rather than flowers. Plus anyone with an acre or two has a mini farm. We ordered some dish for two that we had no idea what it was. Fish goulash with potatoes in a reddish sauce is as close as I can get, big bowl brought to table that we spoon to our plates. The wine came from a town 4km away. There were 4 dessert choices, but the menu was verbal. Creme brulee and flan were the two we understood. We opted for the two that we didn't understand. One was a rice pudding with cinnamon approximation. The other was like a cross between whipped cream and goat's cheese, with marmalade. This was a high end, beautiful place in a castle on a hill with 5 little tables, and it was$20/person all in. Sweet!
This is another trip where I've relearned what I've learned on past trips. Big cities are cool, but the countryside is what really makes it memorable for me. I'm only part way through, but I think Portugal has really earned a place in my heart, alongside all the other spots I love - Colombia, Bolivia, Chile, Argentina, Costa Rica, the Alps region, Colorado, New York all come to mind right away.
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