Steady Pedals

Or more accurately Albufeira to Faro.

So this morning kicked off with an early start. Armed with a picture of the bolt I needed it was off to the local hardware store. They were much friendlier than the bike shop, but couldn’t help me.

Plan for today was to take the train back to Faro and kick off where I finished yesterday. The Brompton was centre of attention at Tavira station, where numerous Portuguese pensioners watched with interest and surprise as it folded origami like into an ever smaller package.

Again a quick train journey (except for the 20 minute delay) and this time no problem getting off at the correct stop ! Looking at the train times there was a train to Albufeira in around 10 mins. I decided rather than chance the tight connection I was going to have returning from Albufeira, I’d ride the route in reverse.

After yesterday and with the still unresolved gear lever issue, I wasn’t being to optimistic with my schedule for the day. Effectively with the train schedules I had about half a days riding, so 50km felt about right.

Once I’d found my way out of the station and onto the route I had a nice little climb over a ridiculously steep bridge over the railway. At least the view was nice !

Then it was onto smooth back roads heading towards Albufeira. Clearly Portuguese Railways have learned a thing or two from Ryanair, as Albufeira station is about 5km from the town – a bit of a shock if you turn up with all your holiday luggage ! I was feeling pretty happy whizzing along down a lovely road, with blue skies and the sun shining. Disappointment is never far away though as I saw the road I was due to turn up, a rough dirt track, just to add insult to injury my front wheel felt a bit peculiar, of course it was a puncture.

At least the front wheel is easier to fix, a quick inspection soon found the cause of the problem. A large piece pf glass embedded in the tyre. Wheel off and new tube in took less than 15 minutes. Having consulted the map I could see the rough track wasn’t that long and avoided some pretty big detours, so off I went.

I’d love to say today’s was a great ride, but actually its was a bit disappointing , most of the first 40k was either muddy tracks, some of which weren’t rideable or bland urban roads that scooted around the outskirts of Albufeira and other towns.

I should probably be thankful as what I saw of the suburbs of Albufeira didn’t impress me. As we neared Vilamoura, again I was routed through the suburbs, but these were rather plusher with well manicured and watered lawns and some rather nice houses, not to forget a good smattering of golf courses, several of which the route went through. Again nothing much of note except to say it was quite a hilly area, the worst was in a rather posh estate next to a golf club. The photo doesn’t do it justice, but I knew it was steep when the roadie ahead of me was weaving all over the road. Needless to say the Brompton was fine – engage lower gear, grit teeth and plug away.

I’d been keeping an eye on the clock, and despite the best efforts of the puncture fairy and the rough roads I had plenty of time in hand for some sort of lunch in Faro. I quite fancied the railway cafe again as it was so good. However the route had one final sting in the tail for me, around 5km on forestry roads, most were rideable but there were several stretches where I had to get off as it was just loose and deep gravel or sand.

Eventually I hit smooth roads again and sped into Faro, with enough time for a very tasty steak sandwich and one of my favourite Pastel de Nata tarts to take away and eat at the station.

So with 10 minutes to the train, I pulled out the tart and gazed longingly at it. I couldn’t believe I was four days into my trip and hadn’t had one already, biting through the flaky pastry I savoured the rich sweet creamy filling. My pleasure was interrupted by a rather dodgy looking guy, who turned out was begging for money for food as he claimed he hadn’t eaten in days. While sympathetic I wasn’t going to give him money. Accepting this he turned his attention to what was in my hand, I told him to go pester someone else I wasn’t giving it away. Guiltily I took another bite, he continued to beg, he clearly was hungry and seeing me enjoying the tart probably wasn’t helping. “Just what’s left” he said looking at the half eaten tart – no chance I took another bite but with each crunch of the pastry his pleas became more desperate, somehow his constant begging was rather taking the edge off it. We both looked down at the final remains, there wasn’t even a proper mouthful left. He really was pleading by now, I should really just have finished it off, but I didn’t have the heart, I’m not sure he was pleased with the result of all his efforts, but he shuffled away to a corner to eat it. It was all rather sad and not the first sign of real poverty that I’ve seen here.

Anyway enough of being a bleeding heart liberal, it was time to take the train back to Tavira, scrub up and have a decent dinner. I’m not sure of my plans for tomorrow, the ride today really didn’t inspire and I don’t want to sit on trains for hours to repeat it. I may have a day sightseeing and relaxing.