Bloody brilliant!
Sitting in the kitchen, in Bampton, in the pissing rain and thoroughly jealous!
More, encore!
Sitting in the kitchen, in Bampton, in the pissing rain and thoroughly jealous!
More, encore!
The School Run (Santiago de Compostella)
- Thread starter steve1
- Start date
steve1
Registered user
The enchanted forest
Mr Sat Nav confidently insisists that we be landing in around 20mins... I have no option but to trust his judgment and follow his directions deeper into the forest (maybe i should be leaving breadcrumbs or something?) Down to two bars on the gauge, shit i dont want to run out of petrol around here. I ride on more slowly hesitant every time the canopy clears i try to snatch a look a get my bearings, but no all i can see is forest. Onwards, Sat Nav says i'm close, then up ahead no signs nothing a mini roundabout?? Why is there a mini round about in the middle of a forest? Sat Nav says we're here, i scream bastard at him down the mike but he keeps telling me we arrived.
This is weird why is there a roundabout in the middle of nowhere? Theres only one road on and off it strange. Slowly i'm thinking i'd better retrace my steps and think about coasting the GS back down the forest track to conserve petrol. But wait, whats this? On the exit side of the roundabout sprayed in white paint is the word "CAMPING" and an arrow pointing the way. I take this as a good sign and continue follow the road further into the forest. Its got to be a better option than camping on a roundabout. In the meantime Mr Sat Nav is sulking, he's refusing to recognise the road i'm on, he keeps recalculating and telling me to drive to the highlighted route- What highlighted route? I turn him off and increase the volume of the mp3. Keep expecting it to play "if you go down to the woods today"
I follow numerous other painted signs for about 20 mins up a steep narrow road with continuous hairpins, i'm really climbimbing but there's no sign of the trees thinning out. This whole area is bereft of any sign of human life. The only thing that hints at someone being here before is the narrow strip of tarmac that i'm riding on.
The road straightens out and becomes level and i'm able to advance up the gearbox further than 3rd. Then i see it, up ahead, an alien colour amongst all the green. Its a sign, a yellow sign! I stop and look at it. It has a simple line drawing of a tent with what looks like a moose stood next to it and the words "Camping Covas" with an arrow pointind down a track. My spirits lift a i point the GS down the track. I have to keep the speed down this track is not tarmac but two lines of random stone, a bit like crazy paving, set out where the wheels of car would go. The middle bit is really rough with some massive holes in it. In places these holes are so big that the paving has fallen into it making an interesting obstacle for the unweary- couldn't do this at night ( wouldn't want to, might meet a moose!)
I breath a huge sigh of relief as ahead of me i see that a group of around 6 mountainbikers are negotiating the track in the same direction. At last humans! There actually moving quite fast, i dont attempt to pass, i just hang back a little in case one of them has a spill on this dodgy track. Another yellow sign ahead and the bikes turn left into a clearing. As i get closer i see the sign points that way so i follow. Unbelievable, civilization - a carpark, cars,caravans motorhomes tents people buildings- i'm here! This is weird all this in the middle of nowhere! I kick the bike onto the side stand stick my helmet on the mirror and climb off. I'm knackered and hungry, as i start to take off my jacket a tall grey bloke approaches. He has deep brown leathery skin and looks like a hippy who lost his way after woodstock. His grey hair only covers parts of his head and is platted randomly and tied off with brightly covered string. He's wearing a pair of those Ali Baba pants that make you look like you've shit yourself (and i thought were only reserved for the ladies) and he sports only a blue waistcoat on his top half.
Why do i always attract the nutters? As he approaches i see he is wearing no shoes and has rings on at least three of his toes. I stop staring at this point because he is too close and i fear commiting some sort of international incident down to my innate curiosity.
He towers above me points at the bike and begins jabbering in Martian, i cant get a word in, its obvious that he thinks i understand, however he is mistaken. My basic language skills are useless (even on the other side of the pennines) and i really cannot make head nor tail about what this aboriginal hippy is on about. I decide to have a stab at comunication. I stop smiling at him, frown and point to a door on the building across the way and say "CAMPING" in a slow and deliberate tone. The penny drops the hippy seems to realise that he's banging his head against a wall talking to me and he starts to laugh. I laugh too, not with him, at him. I cant believe the situations travel can put you in and this is by far one of the most amusing. We both calm down and he puts a hand on my shoulder- he shakes his finger in my face, points at the door and leads me over to it pointing at a sign. I think i recognise what appears to be opening times. Hippy puts his hands together at the side of his head and closes his eyes. Ahh i get it- he's telling me that recetion is closed for siesta (i think) Wait a minute. what if this guy is just a nutter? I have no choice but to take hippys attempts at communication at face value, as it were.
I say to him "CAMPING" and point to the tent bungeed to the bike. He points to his eye and then into the site. I think he wants me to follow. I follow him down a path with ropes on either side. He leads me into a roped area, we are in the forest but the trees have been considerably thinned and cut back. The trees are very tall and their branches form a broken canopy which produces a pleasant dappled light at ground level. The temperature is much more bearable than out in the open. Hippy points at a space next to a tap defined by rocks. I guess this is my pitch, i give him the thumbs up and he gestures the route for me to get my bike past the ropes- nice fella, bit weird but nice.
Park the bike up and pitch the tent..........
Mr Sat Nav confidently insisists that we be landing in around 20mins... I have no option but to trust his judgment and follow his directions deeper into the forest (maybe i should be leaving breadcrumbs or something?) Down to two bars on the gauge, shit i dont want to run out of petrol around here. I ride on more slowly hesitant every time the canopy clears i try to snatch a look a get my bearings, but no all i can see is forest. Onwards, Sat Nav says i'm close, then up ahead no signs nothing a mini roundabout?? Why is there a mini round about in the middle of a forest? Sat Nav says we're here, i scream bastard at him down the mike but he keeps telling me we arrived.
This is weird why is there a roundabout in the middle of nowhere? Theres only one road on and off it strange. Slowly i'm thinking i'd better retrace my steps and think about coasting the GS back down the forest track to conserve petrol. But wait, whats this? On the exit side of the roundabout sprayed in white paint is the word "CAMPING" and an arrow pointing the way. I take this as a good sign and continue follow the road further into the forest. Its got to be a better option than camping on a roundabout. In the meantime Mr Sat Nav is sulking, he's refusing to recognise the road i'm on, he keeps recalculating and telling me to drive to the highlighted route- What highlighted route? I turn him off and increase the volume of the mp3. Keep expecting it to play "if you go down to the woods today"
I follow numerous other painted signs for about 20 mins up a steep narrow road with continuous hairpins, i'm really climbimbing but there's no sign of the trees thinning out. This whole area is bereft of any sign of human life. The only thing that hints at someone being here before is the narrow strip of tarmac that i'm riding on.
The road straightens out and becomes level and i'm able to advance up the gearbox further than 3rd. Then i see it, up ahead, an alien colour amongst all the green. Its a sign, a yellow sign! I stop and look at it. It has a simple line drawing of a tent with what looks like a moose stood next to it and the words "Camping Covas" with an arrow pointind down a track. My spirits lift a i point the GS down the track. I have to keep the speed down this track is not tarmac but two lines of random stone, a bit like crazy paving, set out where the wheels of car would go. The middle bit is really rough with some massive holes in it. In places these holes are so big that the paving has fallen into it making an interesting obstacle for the unweary- couldn't do this at night ( wouldn't want to, might meet a moose!)
I breath a huge sigh of relief as ahead of me i see that a group of around 6 mountainbikers are negotiating the track in the same direction. At last humans! There actually moving quite fast, i dont attempt to pass, i just hang back a little in case one of them has a spill on this dodgy track. Another yellow sign ahead and the bikes turn left into a clearing. As i get closer i see the sign points that way so i follow. Unbelievable, civilization - a carpark, cars,caravans motorhomes tents people buildings- i'm here! This is weird all this in the middle of nowhere! I kick the bike onto the side stand stick my helmet on the mirror and climb off. I'm knackered and hungry, as i start to take off my jacket a tall grey bloke approaches. He has deep brown leathery skin and looks like a hippy who lost his way after woodstock. His grey hair only covers parts of his head and is platted randomly and tied off with brightly covered string. He's wearing a pair of those Ali Baba pants that make you look like you've shit yourself (and i thought were only reserved for the ladies) and he sports only a blue waistcoat on his top half.
Why do i always attract the nutters? As he approaches i see he is wearing no shoes and has rings on at least three of his toes. I stop staring at this point because he is too close and i fear commiting some sort of international incident down to my innate curiosity.
He towers above me points at the bike and begins jabbering in Martian, i cant get a word in, its obvious that he thinks i understand, however he is mistaken. My basic language skills are useless (even on the other side of the pennines) and i really cannot make head nor tail about what this aboriginal hippy is on about. I decide to have a stab at comunication. I stop smiling at him, frown and point to a door on the building across the way and say "CAMPING" in a slow and deliberate tone. The penny drops the hippy seems to realise that he's banging his head against a wall talking to me and he starts to laugh. I laugh too, not with him, at him. I cant believe the situations travel can put you in and this is by far one of the most amusing. We both calm down and he puts a hand on my shoulder- he shakes his finger in my face, points at the door and leads me over to it pointing at a sign. I think i recognise what appears to be opening times. Hippy puts his hands together at the side of his head and closes his eyes. Ahh i get it- he's telling me that recetion is closed for siesta (i think) Wait a minute. what if this guy is just a nutter? I have no choice but to take hippys attempts at communication at face value, as it were.
I say to him "CAMPING" and point to the tent bungeed to the bike. He points to his eye and then into the site. I think he wants me to follow. I follow him down a path with ropes on either side. He leads me into a roped area, we are in the forest but the trees have been considerably thinned and cut back. The trees are very tall and their branches form a broken canopy which produces a pleasant dappled light at ground level. The temperature is much more bearable than out in the open. Hippy points at a space next to a tap defined by rocks. I guess this is my pitch, i give him the thumbs up and he gestures the route for me to get my bike past the ropes- nice fella, bit weird but nice.
Park the bike up and pitch the tent..........
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Stevie73
Registered user
Keep it coming...this is ACE!
steve1
Registered user
Hunger pangs
The tent is set up now its time for food. I explore the camp still amazed that all this could be situated here, the middle of nowhere. The reception building also has a bar/restaurent and shop attached. The shop appears to be closed so i try my luck at the bar. There are two people eating at a table and they look up as i enter the room. I walk up to the bar and lean on in. The two people are jabbering away in Portugese and enjoying their meal. A door behind the bar opens and a frail old lady approaches the bar. She says somthing to me i reply in my best Spanish bocadillo. She shakes her head. I say SANDWICH very slowly and deliberately. This woman must be at least 200 years old (and i think she may be deaf) She looks through me as if shes in a trance. I do the knife and fork actions and rub my tummy. She walks to the back of the bar and brings me a bag of monkey nuts. I shake my head and say S-A-N-D-W-I-C-H even more slowly and with just enough volume so as not to be rude. She looks through me again, i smile and think f*ck it, monkey nuts are still food. Just then one of the diners stands up and approaches the bar - she turns out to be a good samaritan and puts the old girl back on track. The old girl picks up a large brown paper sack, bloody hell she's strong i'm thinking, looks like a sack of spuds. She lifts it onto the bar and i peer in- Its full of crusty cobs, i nod and smile (a lot) and give her the thumbs up sign. Smiling the old lady shows me a double tuppaware dish one side cheese, one side ham- i point to the cheese and give her the thumbs up.
I'm starving. I show her two fingers (the polite way round) meaning i want two butties, she responds smiling and puts two slices of cheese on one roll. I quit while i'm ahead, point to the beer pump and settle down to eat my single cheese roll.
The tent is set up now its time for food. I explore the camp still amazed that all this could be situated here, the middle of nowhere. The reception building also has a bar/restaurent and shop attached. The shop appears to be closed so i try my luck at the bar. There are two people eating at a table and they look up as i enter the room. I walk up to the bar and lean on in. The two people are jabbering away in Portugese and enjoying their meal. A door behind the bar opens and a frail old lady approaches the bar. She says somthing to me i reply in my best Spanish bocadillo. She shakes her head. I say SANDWICH very slowly and deliberately. This woman must be at least 200 years old (and i think she may be deaf) She looks through me as if shes in a trance. I do the knife and fork actions and rub my tummy. She walks to the back of the bar and brings me a bag of monkey nuts. I shake my head and say S-A-N-D-W-I-C-H even more slowly and with just enough volume so as not to be rude. She looks through me again, i smile and think f*ck it, monkey nuts are still food. Just then one of the diners stands up and approaches the bar - she turns out to be a good samaritan and puts the old girl back on track. The old girl picks up a large brown paper sack, bloody hell she's strong i'm thinking, looks like a sack of spuds. She lifts it onto the bar and i peer in- Its full of crusty cobs, i nod and smile (a lot) and give her the thumbs up sign. Smiling the old lady shows me a double tuppaware dish one side cheese, one side ham- i point to the cheese and give her the thumbs up.
I'm starving. I show her two fingers (the polite way round) meaning i want two butties, she responds smiling and puts two slices of cheese on one roll. I quit while i'm ahead, point to the beer pump and settle down to eat my single cheese roll.
steve1
Registered user
After the best cheese roll ever, i try to sort out my phone messages. It would appear that my phone has switched networks. I'm now on TMN (whatever that is) however i'm struggling to send messages or make calls. I finish my beer and decide to go for a wander. First check out the shower block, bit unsuccessful - difficult to acertain the ladies from the gents - no one appears to be using them and i cant suss out which is which - no labels??
I wander to the site entrance and and follow the track beyond the site i walk about 2 miles dont see a soul so i sneak a piss against a tree. As i turn around and walk back my phone chirps- Message from SWMBO to call her. After about the 5th attempt i get past voice mail and am able to speak with her. She's having a fantastic time and all is well. The call is over to soon and im left wishing she was here.
I stroll down the track , the tree canopy shading me from the fierce Portugeuse sun. I notice down on my left a brook almost covered by the undergrowth at the side of the track. The water is crystal clear and quite fast flowing, i stick my fingers in (as you do) and am surprised at how cold it is. I disturb 4 or 5 huge blue dragon flies, crap myself as they buzz my head and run away brushing my head. Those things were massive, i could have been eaten alive. (Mental note- keep the inner tent zipped tight- dont want to arrive back in Santander with dragonfly larvae gestating in my head. Imagine the panic on the ferry as my head bursts open in the restaurent and a thousand Portugese killer dragonflies force a mass abandon ship incident in international waters.) As my heartrate descends to within normal parameters i realise that the insects are not really interested in me. I stroll back towards the camp catching glimspes of the surrounding forest through gaps in the treeline, its vast. Along the track there are grape vines just growing wild - the green grapes look so juicy and inviting i just couldn't resist. Taste like shite- imagine squeezing a whole lemon into your mouth and times it by 10. OMG those things were bitter!
I wander to the site entrance and and follow the track beyond the site i walk about 2 miles dont see a soul so i sneak a piss against a tree. As i turn around and walk back my phone chirps- Message from SWMBO to call her. After about the 5th attempt i get past voice mail and am able to speak with her. She's having a fantastic time and all is well. The call is over to soon and im left wishing she was here.
I stroll down the track , the tree canopy shading me from the fierce Portugeuse sun. I notice down on my left a brook almost covered by the undergrowth at the side of the track. The water is crystal clear and quite fast flowing, i stick my fingers in (as you do) and am surprised at how cold it is. I disturb 4 or 5 huge blue dragon flies, crap myself as they buzz my head and run away brushing my head. Those things were massive, i could have been eaten alive. (Mental note- keep the inner tent zipped tight- dont want to arrive back in Santander with dragonfly larvae gestating in my head. Imagine the panic on the ferry as my head bursts open in the restaurent and a thousand Portugese killer dragonflies force a mass abandon ship incident in international waters.) As my heartrate descends to within normal parameters i realise that the insects are not really interested in me. I stroll back towards the camp catching glimspes of the surrounding forest through gaps in the treeline, its vast. Along the track there are grape vines just growing wild - the green grapes look so juicy and inviting i just couldn't resist. Taste like shite- imagine squeezing a whole lemon into your mouth and times it by 10. OMG those things were bitter!
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Really enjoying this - keep it up!!
pubby
Guest
Just one critism i have, far to long a period between posts, i need my next fix NOW 
Brilliant - full of wit, keeping me smiling - more please 
steve1
Registered user
As i arrive back at the site the hippy guy spots me and marches over, he puts his arm around my shoulder and leads me off to reception. He's a bit too familiar for my liking, bit touchy-feely but he seems harmless. Why is he always hanging around the carpark? As we both enter reception a fat man behind the counter appears to be just finishing sorting some other campers. I think everyone here is Portugeuse. Its a strange language, i grown accustomed to listening to Spanish - the mrs has been studying it for a while an natrually I just pick bits up because i'm around it all day. Portugeuse is alien to my ears the dialect and word stresses appear different - sometimes it almost sounds Dutch.
Fat man finishes with the camper, who promptly leaves the room, and turns his attention to me. Hippy says somthing to him - I have no idea what the actual words were, however it's funny how you get a sense of whats going on, language/ communication is so much more than just words. I believe the hippy is explaining that i arrived during siesta and that I don't speak the lingo.
Fat man smiles at me an retrieves a box file from a shelf at the back, he opens the box to reveal a stack of pages with plastic cards (like credit cards) paerclipped to each one.
He sits down and takes a blank form from the box - he writes something on it then passes me the pen and form, he points to the plastic cards and holds out his hand and says CARNET to me - these must be ID casds i think- PASSPORT - i reply, at this point i realise that i've tried to copy his accent (why do i do that?) but he doesn't know. I point across the carpark in the direction of my bike and say P-A-S-S-P-O-R-T . Hippy guy seems to translate for me and the fat bloke nods. I continue to complete the form, its seems pretty straight forward Name address etc but then i'm out of my depth. I interrupt hippy guy who is busy rolling an intersting looking cigarette with some rough looking tobbaco. He does his best to explain to me what the form requires but i am at a loss- We both give up- he waves his hand and i take this to mean dont worry about it and i pass the form back to fatty.
He quickly scans through it and scowls at hippy, pointing at the form he fires off four or five sentences in fast Portugeuse, my instincts tell me he may be pissed off- Hippy guy responds by walking around the back of the counter, putting his arm around fatty's shoulder and pointing at the form. Fatty's face changes and soon he is laughing (shit have i just signed a consent form giving them my kidneys?) I stand up point to the bike and say PASSPORT, hippy nods and i leggit back to my bike to retrieve my precious travel documents.
When i get back to reception hippy has disappeared but fatty is still there with the box file open. He paperclips my passport to my form an puts it on the top of the pile in the box. Its easy to see that ther are no other British passports just credit card sized id' s.
Absentmindedly i say gracias to Fatty as i turn to leave. GRACIAS he barks back at me Gracias? By the look on his face i think i have just offended his mother. He goes on to explain, i think he's attempting English.
" Tu en Portugal, no es G-R-A-C-I-A-S, Obrigado!"
Bloody hell keep your hair on Fatty its only a word (i'm thinking as i balls up again.
"Vale" (Spanish for OK) i respond, then think shit and just say OK, OK sorry.
He smiles and I smile nervously and retreat to my tent.
Think he may be bipolar or something - proper mood swings.
Back at the tent i lie down on the Mrs's posh sleeping matt and drift off careful to lie on my back (protecting my kidneys)
Fat man finishes with the camper, who promptly leaves the room, and turns his attention to me. Hippy says somthing to him - I have no idea what the actual words were, however it's funny how you get a sense of whats going on, language/ communication is so much more than just words. I believe the hippy is explaining that i arrived during siesta and that I don't speak the lingo.
Fat man smiles at me an retrieves a box file from a shelf at the back, he opens the box to reveal a stack of pages with plastic cards (like credit cards) paerclipped to each one.
He sits down and takes a blank form from the box - he writes something on it then passes me the pen and form, he points to the plastic cards and holds out his hand and says CARNET to me - these must be ID casds i think- PASSPORT - i reply, at this point i realise that i've tried to copy his accent (why do i do that?) but he doesn't know. I point across the carpark in the direction of my bike and say P-A-S-S-P-O-R-T . Hippy guy seems to translate for me and the fat bloke nods. I continue to complete the form, its seems pretty straight forward Name address etc but then i'm out of my depth. I interrupt hippy guy who is busy rolling an intersting looking cigarette with some rough looking tobbaco. He does his best to explain to me what the form requires but i am at a loss- We both give up- he waves his hand and i take this to mean dont worry about it and i pass the form back to fatty.
He quickly scans through it and scowls at hippy, pointing at the form he fires off four or five sentences in fast Portugeuse, my instincts tell me he may be pissed off- Hippy guy responds by walking around the back of the counter, putting his arm around fatty's shoulder and pointing at the form. Fatty's face changes and soon he is laughing (shit have i just signed a consent form giving them my kidneys?) I stand up point to the bike and say PASSPORT, hippy nods and i leggit back to my bike to retrieve my precious travel documents.
When i get back to reception hippy has disappeared but fatty is still there with the box file open. He paperclips my passport to my form an puts it on the top of the pile in the box. Its easy to see that ther are no other British passports just credit card sized id' s.
Absentmindedly i say gracias to Fatty as i turn to leave. GRACIAS he barks back at me Gracias? By the look on his face i think i have just offended his mother. He goes on to explain, i think he's attempting English.
" Tu en Portugal, no es G-R-A-C-I-A-S, Obrigado!"
Bloody hell keep your hair on Fatty its only a word (i'm thinking as i balls up again.
"Vale" (Spanish for OK) i respond, then think shit and just say OK, OK sorry.
He smiles and I smile nervously and retreat to my tent.
Think he may be bipolar or something - proper mood swings.
Back at the tent i lie down on the Mrs's posh sleeping matt and drift off careful to lie on my back (protecting my kidneys)
JonL
Guest
Esta é uma grande diversão. Mantendo a viagem coceira na baía (quase). 
newboy
mechanical buffoon
- Joined
- Mar 24, 2009
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- 2,740
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lol
this is good
"does he get to keep his kidneys... do they put him in a big wicker statue "
this is good
"does he get to keep his kidneys... do they put him in a big wicker statue
"
steve1
Registered user
timezone confusion and cullinary improvisation
Wake at around 10 Spanish time- its still light. I say Spanish time because i'm not sure if its the same as Portugeuse time?? I get the feeling that Portugeuse time is the same as English time but so far i have not come across any clocks and being the abstract concept that it is, time is much too difficult for me to ask about here- i can only just order a beer!
I'm really thirsty and need some water so i make my way to the shop- closed. I head around to the bar and its totally empty. I walk up to the counter and see the old woman i gingerly ask her for Agua (keep my voice down incase fatty is around) it does the trick and she brings me a small bottle- i pay her 15cents and neck most of it. I,ve not had anything to eat since the cheese roll incident and i am keen to vary my diet. I look across at the old womans rugged face, i smile- nothing. I think she may be dead, i think to myself that she would make a fantastic poker player she is devoid of any emotions or facial expressions and is looking beyond this world into another. I turn away deciding not to intrude on the old girl's meditation- i'll eat tommorow.
I walk back to the bike, the suns going down and the sky is perfectly clear, there's a bit of a nip in the air. I finish my water on the way back to the tent and quickly throw on a hoodie to keep warm.
I stick on my head torch and ransack my panniers for food. I'm sure SWMBO put some stuff in here. No joy in the fist one so move on to the second- Bingo carrier bag with eatables. Sit in the porch and check my find. There's a half eaten pack of cheese slices, the top slice is solid and the edges of the rest are a bit hard but the middle bits seem ok. I rip off the edges, put it on my blue plastic plate and delve deeper into the bag- I find a sorry looking tomato, obviously travel weary, battered and bruised but after a good sniffing it takes its place on the plate with the cheese. I pull out an overipe quarter of melon that's been wrapped in clingfilm which is now almost completely liquid- there's warm melon juice all over the bottom of my pannier and its beginning to smell a bit funky. I also find a bit of french stick which is wrapped in its own carrier bag and has been spared a melon-juice bath. I put the bread on the plate and survey my feast.
Need something more - drink- shit ive drunk all the water - well there's a tap at the side of the tent. Flying in the face of my usual modus operandi and driven by extreme necessity i fill the trangia with the Portuguese pop.
I make sure the burner is well full - because i'm going to boil the shit out of this liquid (to make sure any Dragonfly larvae become inert) to make it safe.
Stick the trangia on the burner then i have the find of the century- Noodles- i had forgotten all about them- Curry flavoured noodles 10p a packet from sainsburys really light and take up no room- excellent emergency rations.
20 mins later im eating like a king - A traditional dish i like to call Portugeuse surprise -bread, cheese, tomatoe and curry noodles all washed down with bog water coffee.
Wake at around 10 Spanish time- its still light. I say Spanish time because i'm not sure if its the same as Portugeuse time?? I get the feeling that Portugeuse time is the same as English time but so far i have not come across any clocks and being the abstract concept that it is, time is much too difficult for me to ask about here- i can only just order a beer!
I'm really thirsty and need some water so i make my way to the shop- closed. I head around to the bar and its totally empty. I walk up to the counter and see the old woman i gingerly ask her for Agua (keep my voice down incase fatty is around) it does the trick and she brings me a small bottle- i pay her 15cents and neck most of it. I,ve not had anything to eat since the cheese roll incident and i am keen to vary my diet. I look across at the old womans rugged face, i smile- nothing. I think she may be dead, i think to myself that she would make a fantastic poker player she is devoid of any emotions or facial expressions and is looking beyond this world into another. I turn away deciding not to intrude on the old girl's meditation- i'll eat tommorow.
I walk back to the bike, the suns going down and the sky is perfectly clear, there's a bit of a nip in the air. I finish my water on the way back to the tent and quickly throw on a hoodie to keep warm.
I stick on my head torch and ransack my panniers for food. I'm sure SWMBO put some stuff in here. No joy in the fist one so move on to the second- Bingo carrier bag with eatables. Sit in the porch and check my find. There's a half eaten pack of cheese slices, the top slice is solid and the edges of the rest are a bit hard but the middle bits seem ok. I rip off the edges, put it on my blue plastic plate and delve deeper into the bag- I find a sorry looking tomato, obviously travel weary, battered and bruised but after a good sniffing it takes its place on the plate with the cheese. I pull out an overipe quarter of melon that's been wrapped in clingfilm which is now almost completely liquid- there's warm melon juice all over the bottom of my pannier and its beginning to smell a bit funky. I also find a bit of french stick which is wrapped in its own carrier bag and has been spared a melon-juice bath. I put the bread on the plate and survey my feast.
Need something more - drink- shit ive drunk all the water - well there's a tap at the side of the tent. Flying in the face of my usual modus operandi and driven by extreme necessity i fill the trangia with the Portuguese pop.
I make sure the burner is well full - because i'm going to boil the shit out of this liquid (to make sure any Dragonfly larvae become inert) to make it safe.
Stick the trangia on the burner then i have the find of the century- Noodles- i had forgotten all about them- Curry flavoured noodles 10p a packet from sainsburys really light and take up no room- excellent emergency rations.
20 mins later im eating like a king - A traditional dish i like to call Portugeuse surprise -bread, cheese, tomatoe and curry noodles all washed down with bog water coffee.
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steve1
Registered user
The Call of the Wild
Supper is finished and a more pressing issue comes to the fore. This business with the toilets needs sorting. I need to Know which is which... i need to know NOW. I step out into the fresh Portuguese night - Bloody hell its a bit nippy. Dim lights have turned on around the site which are marking out paths and buildings. There are also numerous lamps and torches around. Must be almost midnight (Spanish time) but there are many people up and about. I walk through the site towards the toilet block all the time seeing if i can spot a male or female entering the building, but alas it's too dark. As i near the building i see a bloke cooking outside a tent. Desperation forces me to communicate- i walk up to him and say SERVICIOS? he stares back at me and says English? I nod enthusiastically and say yes. I explain my prdicament to him. He explains to me in perfect English that many Portugesue facilities are labelled with a simple picture. He walks over to the wall of the building pulls back the branches of a bush to reavel a small tile with a picture of a traditionally dressed Portugeuse man. I dont know how to thank him and rush inside- i have important buisiness to attend to.
Supper is finished and a more pressing issue comes to the fore. This business with the toilets needs sorting. I need to Know which is which... i need to know NOW. I step out into the fresh Portuguese night - Bloody hell its a bit nippy. Dim lights have turned on around the site which are marking out paths and buildings. There are also numerous lamps and torches around. Must be almost midnight (Spanish time) but there are many people up and about. I walk through the site towards the toilet block all the time seeing if i can spot a male or female entering the building, but alas it's too dark. As i near the building i see a bloke cooking outside a tent. Desperation forces me to communicate- i walk up to him and say SERVICIOS? he stares back at me and says English? I nod enthusiastically and say yes. I explain my prdicament to him. He explains to me in perfect English that many Portugesue facilities are labelled with a simple picture. He walks over to the wall of the building pulls back the branches of a bush to reavel a small tile with a picture of a traditionally dressed Portugeuse man. I dont know how to thank him and rush inside- i have important buisiness to attend to.
JonL
Guest
This is great. The next instalment?????:
1. He looks up after a sigh of relief to find a swarm of man-eating dragonflies hovering inches from his nose.
2. He wakes up in the morning to find the Hippie's arm draped over him and no recollection of the previous night except a faint memory that he was invited over for a smoke.
1. He looks up after a sigh of relief to find a swarm of man-eating dragonflies hovering inches from his nose.
2. He wakes up in the morning to find the Hippie's arm draped over him and no recollection of the previous night except a faint memory that he was invited over for a smoke.
steve1
Registered user
Monday 3rd August 2009
Wake during the night to add extra layers of clothing, even with the Mrs's posh sleeping bag it's still bloody cold. Up at around six (Spanish time) its still dark but soon the sun starts making that weird half light across the sky. All the animals begin to wake and soon the forest is alive with sound, still no sign of human movement. The bloke in the next tent seems oblivious to the constant shrill of the cockerel and continues to compete with his own sound effects.
Quiet as possible i fire up the trangia, at least a can still have coffee even if it is with dodgy water (maybe i'm immune by now). I think im the only person awake in the whole forest.
As the sun continues to rise it stabs slender fingers of light through the forest reminding me of the scene from ET when they return people from the mother ship! So bright! I unclip a pannier from the bike to sit on, I am surprised to find that the beads of condensation have frozen. Ice, bloody ice in Portugal in August! Must be an altitude thing.
I leave the water boiling for ages on the trangia and watch the steady plume of steam rise into the canopy. As i pour boiling water into my coffee cup i'm shaken by seven loud dongs- obviously coming from a nearby clock- nice touch with everyone still asleep. Now i'm almost certain that there is no time difference here.
My phone chirps- its my mum, she's just seen my son and his girlfriend on GMTV something about holidays? Fame at last.
10 mins later phone chirps again SWMBO message to call her.
After several attempts manage to get a line and speak to the Mrs. It feels better to talk to someone at long last (i'm going mental in this forest). Its good to hear her voice, i'm missing her. I tell her all about this strange Portuguese campsite and how cold it's been at night. Between us we decide it would be better if i head back North- turns out her course is not as intense as she first suspected. She has much more free time and would like to spend it with me. This is the best news i've had in ages and i need no encouragement. I'm in total agreement and tell her i'll be on the next bike out of here.
I will either link up with later tonight or on Tuesday - all depending on the milage.
I sort my gear out and head off to the showers - its one of those where you don't want to get out because you know its gonna be cold. Showers are good- plenty of hot water, clean, modern and spacious (poorly labelled)
Back from the shower for curried noodles for breakfast mmmmmm. (I think i burned them)
Wake during the night to add extra layers of clothing, even with the Mrs's posh sleeping bag it's still bloody cold. Up at around six (Spanish time) its still dark but soon the sun starts making that weird half light across the sky. All the animals begin to wake and soon the forest is alive with sound, still no sign of human movement. The bloke in the next tent seems oblivious to the constant shrill of the cockerel and continues to compete with his own sound effects.
Quiet as possible i fire up the trangia, at least a can still have coffee even if it is with dodgy water (maybe i'm immune by now). I think im the only person awake in the whole forest.
As the sun continues to rise it stabs slender fingers of light through the forest reminding me of the scene from ET when they return people from the mother ship! So bright! I unclip a pannier from the bike to sit on, I am surprised to find that the beads of condensation have frozen. Ice, bloody ice in Portugal in August! Must be an altitude thing.
I leave the water boiling for ages on the trangia and watch the steady plume of steam rise into the canopy. As i pour boiling water into my coffee cup i'm shaken by seven loud dongs- obviously coming from a nearby clock- nice touch with everyone still asleep. Now i'm almost certain that there is no time difference here.
My phone chirps- its my mum, she's just seen my son and his girlfriend on GMTV something about holidays? Fame at last.
10 mins later phone chirps again SWMBO message to call her.
After several attempts manage to get a line and speak to the Mrs. It feels better to talk to someone at long last (i'm going mental in this forest). Its good to hear her voice, i'm missing her. I tell her all about this strange Portuguese campsite and how cold it's been at night. Between us we decide it would be better if i head back North- turns out her course is not as intense as she first suspected. She has much more free time and would like to spend it with me. This is the best news i've had in ages and i need no encouragement. I'm in total agreement and tell her i'll be on the next bike out of here.
I will either link up with later tonight or on Tuesday - all depending on the milage.
I sort my gear out and head off to the showers - its one of those where you don't want to get out because you know its gonna be cold. Showers are good- plenty of hot water, clean, modern and spacious (poorly labelled)
Back from the shower for curried noodles for breakfast mmmmmm. (I think i burned them)
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Fiametta
Guest
This is one of the funniest things I have read
steve1
Registered user
The Escape from the Enchanted Forest
After breakfast i wash up the trangia and start packing away my gear, i leave the tent as long as possible allowing time for the condensation to evaporate in the hot morning sunshine. I want to get away as soon as i can and run North for Spain. Thats enough time for the tent - i pack it onto the bike and go and look for Fatty in reception.
I'm pleasantly surprised to see him already behind his counter. He can already probably tell why i'm here by the way i'm dressed but i wave my wallet at him to make doubly sure. He heaves his rotund frame out of his chair, collects the box file from the shelf and begins thumbing methodically through the forms. I can already see my form its the only one with a passport attached so i point it out to him. He removes the form hands me back my passport and reaches for a calculator.
Fatty begins a complex calculation, adding things and writing numbers in boxes on the form. I fear the worst, this is gonna sting. He finishes his accounting and mumbles something to me in Portugeuse- i dont understand- he writes the number 10 in large numerals on a scrap of paper. 10 euros! i say in amazment 10! he smiles and nods and i hand him a tenner. O-B-R-i-G-A-D-O i say deliberatly and turn to leave.
He stops me by holding up a finger. From the shelf behind he produces a sticker and hands it to me "FOR BIKE" he says, "thankyou! Obrigado!" i reply.
Fatty has turned out to be an OK bloke, back at the bike i find a space on my panniers and carefully add the sticker in pride of place (just below the garmin logo). I fire up the bike put my helmet on and link up the autocom and i'm ready to go......
After breakfast i wash up the trangia and start packing away my gear, i leave the tent as long as possible allowing time for the condensation to evaporate in the hot morning sunshine. I want to get away as soon as i can and run North for Spain. Thats enough time for the tent - i pack it onto the bike and go and look for Fatty in reception.
I'm pleasantly surprised to see him already behind his counter. He can already probably tell why i'm here by the way i'm dressed but i wave my wallet at him to make doubly sure. He heaves his rotund frame out of his chair, collects the box file from the shelf and begins thumbing methodically through the forms. I can already see my form its the only one with a passport attached so i point it out to him. He removes the form hands me back my passport and reaches for a calculator.
Fatty begins a complex calculation, adding things and writing numbers in boxes on the form. I fear the worst, this is gonna sting. He finishes his accounting and mumbles something to me in Portugeuse- i dont understand- he writes the number 10 in large numerals on a scrap of paper. 10 euros! i say in amazment 10! he smiles and nods and i hand him a tenner. O-B-R-i-G-A-D-O i say deliberatly and turn to leave.
He stops me by holding up a finger. From the shelf behind he produces a sticker and hands it to me "FOR BIKE" he says, "thankyou! Obrigado!" i reply.
Fatty has turned out to be an OK bloke, back at the bike i find a space on my panniers and carefully add the sticker in pride of place (just below the garmin logo). I fire up the bike put my helmet on and link up the autocom and i'm ready to go......
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steve1
Registered user
Petrol
I fire up the Sat Nav but he hasn't got a clue so i just leave him on map view.
Take pot luck turning out of the site- go left because i know right is a long road and i desperately need petrol. About 3 miles down the track the road switches to good tarmac and my speed increases as i round a bend i see buildings ahead- not rustic, a bit unexpected really, quite modern. There's a church and some shops and further up houses. I pass what looks like a bar and a bloke is filling his tractor with diesel at the pump outside. I slow down to get a better look and sure enough there's an unleaded pump. I can't believe all this was just down the road. I wait my turn because i cant squeeze between the tractor and the wall, eventually the tractor goes and i pull alonside the pump. A young lad comes out dressed in a boiler suit- he can't be any older than 14. I wave my credit card at him and he shakes his head, i show him cash and he nods. I stick the bike on the centrestand pull back the tankbag and let him fill it up. What a relief to have a full tank. Im looking around while he's filling the tank and i notice the modern looking church has a clock and a bell- i wonder if thats the one i could hear at the camp?? Bike full- i pay the lad and i'm off.
I fire up the Sat Nav but he hasn't got a clue so i just leave him on map view.
Take pot luck turning out of the site- go left because i know right is a long road and i desperately need petrol. About 3 miles down the track the road switches to good tarmac and my speed increases as i round a bend i see buildings ahead- not rustic, a bit unexpected really, quite modern. There's a church and some shops and further up houses. I pass what looks like a bar and a bloke is filling his tractor with diesel at the pump outside. I slow down to get a better look and sure enough there's an unleaded pump. I can't believe all this was just down the road. I wait my turn because i cant squeeze between the tractor and the wall, eventually the tractor goes and i pull alonside the pump. A young lad comes out dressed in a boiler suit- he can't be any older than 14. I wave my credit card at him and he shakes his head, i show him cash and he nods. I stick the bike on the centrestand pull back the tankbag and let him fill it up. What a relief to have a full tank. Im looking around while he's filling the tank and i notice the modern looking church has a clock and a bell- i wonder if thats the one i could hear at the camp?? Bike full- i pay the lad and i'm off.
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steve1
Registered user
Not lost- just finding my way.
Sat Nav still thinks im riding through trees, at least there is some civilisation around here. As i follow the good tarmac road i pass the occassional house. These houses appear quite modern and i suspect this is quite an affluent area. Still no signs so just keep riding, the houses are thinning out and the forest is once again taking over. The sun is climbing in a clear blue sky and its starting to get hot!
My speed starts to drop as i encounter hairpin after hairpin, the road rising and falling. Every now and then at the side of the raod a dirt track leads off into dense forest and there are piles of logs stacked at the junctions.
The road begins to rise steadily and although the sun is hot the air has become cooler. Now and again the trees clear revealing spectacular panoramas across a vast forested landscape. Away in the distance i can see a huge structure off to the East, i convince myself that it's the bridge i crossed on Sunday. Its been about an hour and i've not seen another person since petrol. I've travelled 40 miles- i think i may be lost? I stop the bike and spread the map over the seat (for what its worth) I've been riding for ages and still not seen any signs for anything.
Its funny how riding alone heightens your paranoia, if the Mrs were with me it we be me telling her to chill. After looking about and studying the map i deciced ive ridden around in an arc just on the edges of this forest. I decide to follow the road and head down at every opportunity (unless i pick up some signs in the meantime)
I jump back on the bike and set off with renewed purpose- 10 minutes later ther's a fork in the road, i slow right down an survey each possibility- the one on the left definately seems to be going down a bit more (not much in it if im honest) so i take it.....
Sat Nav still thinks im riding through trees, at least there is some civilisation around here. As i follow the good tarmac road i pass the occassional house. These houses appear quite modern and i suspect this is quite an affluent area. Still no signs so just keep riding, the houses are thinning out and the forest is once again taking over. The sun is climbing in a clear blue sky and its starting to get hot!
My speed starts to drop as i encounter hairpin after hairpin, the road rising and falling. Every now and then at the side of the raod a dirt track leads off into dense forest and there are piles of logs stacked at the junctions.
The road begins to rise steadily and although the sun is hot the air has become cooler. Now and again the trees clear revealing spectacular panoramas across a vast forested landscape. Away in the distance i can see a huge structure off to the East, i convince myself that it's the bridge i crossed on Sunday. Its been about an hour and i've not seen another person since petrol. I've travelled 40 miles- i think i may be lost? I stop the bike and spread the map over the seat (for what its worth) I've been riding for ages and still not seen any signs for anything.
Its funny how riding alone heightens your paranoia, if the Mrs were with me it we be me telling her to chill. After looking about and studying the map i deciced ive ridden around in an arc just on the edges of this forest. I decide to follow the road and head down at every opportunity (unless i pick up some signs in the meantime)
I jump back on the bike and set off with renewed purpose- 10 minutes later ther's a fork in the road, i slow right down an survey each possibility- the one on the left definately seems to be going down a bit more (not much in it if im honest) so i take it.....
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