I left Santiago changing my heading for the final time: East! My goal was Gijon.

The landscape had changed again. No trace of the southern burning-sun-Spain. The vegetation was lush, the skies cloudy and the air damp.

I enjoyed the change and only hoped it wouldn’t rain as my jacket wasn’t waterproof.

Gijon lies on the northern coast of Spain. There are some nice old buildings but overall the city wasn’t too interesting and I only stayed for a few hours.

Gijon is one of the bigger cities along the coast and was on my route because of that and because it is the second of the two Spanish cities which are significant in Austrias football history. Earlier I had already visited Cordoba, the location of what is said to be the greatest game Austria ever played (“The miracle of Cordoba”). Well Gijon is exactly the opposite. It was nick named “Disgrace of Gijon” because in that game Germany (Austrias eternal arch nemesis in sports) and Austria both knew that with a particular score in that worldcup tournament game they would both be happy so they stopped playing after that score was achieved and the remaining half of the game was just an incredibly slow and underwhelming dribbling exercise with apologies for light tackles and no apparent desire to change the score.

Visiting the stadium of Gijon therefore obviously was a sad moment.

After this last stop in Gijon I set course for my last destination on my Spain trip. The national park “Picos de Europa”.

I was already very close to the northern tip of Portugal and crossed the border into Spain just when the weather started to change making me concerned about finding a good spot to put up my tent.

The joy about the smooth roads and less aggressive drivers however made up for the bad weather.

I took me about two hours to find a spot but it was a good one. At least so I thought.

Just when I had crawled into my comfy tent the rain started to fall. It was a strong downpour and it lasted throughout the whole night but I felt perfectly safe in my tent. After all it has a hydrostatic head of 5000mm (which should be enough for any rainy condition in Europe).

The next morning however I had learned a valuable lesson.

My tent was dry everywhere except for the floor. I hadn’t tucked in the outer edges of the ground cover on which I always set up my tent. I just didn’t think it would really rain when I set it up so I didn’t bother tucking in the edges. But now the water that dripped down from the tents walls right onto the floor cover collected in the middle beneath the floor of the tent. This much water is too much for any average tent. Luckily it got wet only where I had placed my sleeping mat on so none of my belongings got wet and I only noticed what had happened when I removed the rubber mat to pack my things in the morning.

The main problem resulting from this situation was that I didn’t want to pack a wet tent. I didn’t want any mold on it when I had the next chance to unpack everything again.

Luckily the plastic floor cover was rubbery enough so that the water just dripped of when I lifted it.

The tent however needed to dry. Once more the geodesic design of the tent came in handy. I could just pick it up and put it on it’s back like a lazy cat in the sun.

It rested there for an hour before I decided it was enough and we had to move on. It didn’t want to go and begged for just ten more minutes like they do but I started tearing it apart anyway. It was not a pretty sight..

My cruelty against my tent apparently hadn’t gone unnoticed as I was greeted by soldiers in full gear with their machine guns out when I returned from the forest.

It probably was just a training exercise but they didn’t make an effort to explain their presence. Instead they directed me opposite the direction I wanted to go but somehow I was not in the mood to argue with them.

My next stop was going to be Santiago de Compostela. A famous pilgrimage city.

 

I had already lost half of the day and still had a few hours of driving ahead of me.

The night was surprisingly comfortable. The temperature was just right. I didn’t even need my warm sleeping bag.

There was some condensation below my tent but the inside didn’t get wet.

I often don’t eat any breakfast at all but this time it consisted of half a kilo of strawberries.

Today my goal was Coimbra. The only reason really why I wanted to visit Coimbra were these guys: Bastiano Joao & Antonio Coimbra de la Coronilla y Azevedo.

If you don’t know these two it’s still not a bad idea to pay Coimbra a visit as it also happens to be a beautiful university city.

Many bridges connect the two sides of the city.

A castle wall like from a fairy tail.

Of course there were also many churches.

One of the many universities on the hill …

… can be visited while people are studying.

Many roads were still made of cobble stones which is great but it made driving uncomfortable. They were slippery as ice. Going downhill was a challenge especially on two wheels.

I left the city in the late afternoon once again not knowing where I would sleep that night.

The next morning I checked out of the hostel and drove down the hill to the touristy center for the city for some sightseeing. More than any city on this trip so far Lisbon and its architecture at the touristy locations reminded me of my home town Vienna.

I started at the main square …

… and walked back up towards the hill from there.

One of my friends from Sevillia had suggested me to get this traditional Portuguese dish. A baked potato with cheese in it.

I found this fancy place where each potato seemed to be treated like a sacrifice to the gods.

It was really good but I could have eaten 8 of those and it was still a bit on the pricey side at 5 Euros for a single potato.

The architecture in the city was very ornate.

Old little single car trams were frequently passing the streets and were not only used by tourists.

I was surprised to see this gigantic wall right next to a church. Being in such good condition it kind of seemed like it still served a purpose. I wondered what could be on the other side. The only really logical explanation I could come up with was: dinosaurs. Dragons would just fly away.

Many buildings didn’t have a plastered wall but a tiled one like the blue house on the far left.

At a little cheap restaurant I finally took the chance to eat some fresh fish. Sardines. I only wish it had been twice as much.

After this delicious snack I got back to my bike to continue North to Porto.

Upon arrival in Sagres I was glad I had spent more time in Lagos than I was going to spend here. Sagres wasn’t that interesting. In fact it reminded me a lot of Englands – which was not a bad thing but I already knew England.

To get to the most South-Western point you have to pass a fortress for which you have to pay 3 Euros. There is nothing to see inside.

A few hundred meters more and I had reached the most South-Western point of my trip. From now on I would go North.

 

My GPS said I would need another 5 hours to reach Lisbon, the capital and that meant that I just had a few minutes extra time left when I got there until most hostels would certainly not operate a reception anymore. 24 hours reception was even less common in Portugal than it was in Spain. However I again wanted to avoid camping because it takes more time and I wanted to get north as quickly as possible. So I got on my bike and headed north.

The further I got north the more the landscape changed. The vegetation looked a bit like a what I am expecting Africa, Australia or South America to look like. Maybe it was just a particular type of tree that created this appearance for me but the environment looked more tropical than the temperature (which had dropped below 20C since I headed North) suggested.

It was one of the most beautiful and unique landscapes I had seen on my trip so far. This and the fact that I had lost some time refueling made me change my mind and I decided to camp instead of rushing to Lisbon. There were lot’s of little paths leading into little patches of trees close but distant enough to be out of sight along the road. The tree patches were not very dense leaving enough space for sun to shine through on my left. The quality of the air and the suns angle made it appear a lot less intense so that it was almost possible to look directly at the huge saturated orange disc. Trying to find the ideal camp spot while enjoying the beautifully lit scenery I kept going North.

I should not have. The landscape and the vegetation changed yet again and now the road didn’t lead through flat terrain and accessible light forest patches anymore but instead I was riding little curvy roads through hilly terrain with steep inclines right next to the road. It was fascinating to see how quickly and drastically the landscape had changed many times since I entered Portugal but it was getting dark and I could have done with some boring dense forest to hide in.

By the time the sun had completely disappeared I finally accepted that I might not get to eat the delicious fresh bread and fruits I had bought for dinner watching the sun set next to my already set up tent. I took many little detours to find a camp site but they kept getting longer and longer. I just didn’t find any place to put up a tent. I wished I hadn’t been that picky earlier.

At around midnight after dozens of km of detours I finally found a little path up a hill right next to the little road I was following. I was sure it was private property but I literally didn’t see any other way. The path lead up to a little plateau from which multiple bigger paths lead in all directions. The sky was clear and the stars were shining brightly. It was a beautiful night and happy to have found such a nice spot after all I slowly began to unpack my gear and set up my tent. I ate some delicious fresh bread with ham and nectarines for dessert. There was nothing more I could have asked for.

My stomach only dropped a little bit when I saw some headlights appearing out of nowhere 30 meters from me. I hadn’t seen or heard a single vehicle in the past hours and certainly didn’t expect anybody at this remote location especially at this hour. The car approached me, got slower and came to a stop. I could not see anything with the headlights in my face. But as quickly as the car had appeared it disappeared again seemingly without anybody acknowledging my presence. Relieved and delighted about the low temperatures in Portugal I went to bed.

The next morning I got to find out where I had ended up.

It really was a great spot and I would have loved to explore the steep road further up the hill but I had to move on.

Besides, if not already upon entering the location by now at least I had to assume that this was private property plus I was pretty sure wild camping was not allowed in Portugal so I took down my tent and left the hill.

At noon the temperature was just above 25C. Portugal was much cooler than what I had expected. The reason, it’s proximity to the Atlantic Ocean.

On my way up to Lisbon I noticed a green patch along the coast on my GPS. The motorway had lead me to the center of Portugal but since I had already lost the morning by camping I decided not to take the fast highway route but a more rural one avoiding the highways but enjoying the scenery.

Just ahead of the beach there was a small village with narrow roads and lots of tourist cars trying to find their way out.

I was also just passing through but when I saw the beaches there I would have loved to spend some time there but I had to keep going.

At a supermarket where I stocked up my water supply I was once more in disbelieve how cheap frozen pizza was in Spain and Portugal. It would be 5 Pounds at least in the UK. If only I had had a portable oven. And a portable full size bed while we are at it.

The landscape was changing again. The soil was now sand. There were very inviting little paths and tracks along the road but I didn’t want to do to many detours of detours of detours.

At noon I stopped at the side of the road to eat my lunch. As always there are lots of great places to stop when you don’t need one and none when you do. The temperature had gone beyond 35C again. There was no trace of a cooler Portugal anymore.

Another stop to make sure the engine wasn’t getting too hot was a good opportunity to eat some ring cake. I had bought the ring cake because it was one of my favorite home made cakes back in Austria and because this one was very cheap at 1 Euro. Needless to say it also tasted like 1 Euro cake.

I reached Lisbon in the afternoon and started my hostel search. I had two addresses that I wanted to try. The first one was a hostel up the hill on which part of Lisbon lies.

But since it was already fully booked the German receptionist phoned another hostel to get me a place to stay.

After checking in there I ate my dinner and fell into bed immediately.

I returned to Sevillia for the night and set course for Portugal the next morning.

I almost didn’t notice crossing the border as there is only a little sign telling you that you are now entering a different country. However what I did notice was that the roads instantly got bad. Not only the quality of the tarmac but traffic in general. I was genuinely stunned to experience how traffic can be so dangerous – in Europe.

Not only were there countles potholes on the roads and generally bad pavement that had already been fixed hundreds of times with bumpy patches everywhere, also the traffic lights throughout were not confidence inspiring. Many of them were so dim that you could not tell if they were on or not. The street markings on the ground were often either non existent or so dirty with tire wear particles that they were completely invisible. Often I was riding on what seemed like a 15 meters wide single lane which in fact was supposed to be either two or three lanes. There was no way to tell. What makes this a problem is that you don’t know if this means that the rules change. Are you supposed to drive in the middle? Or on the far right? How do you overtake and get overtaken? If this was India then you know the rules don’t matter but in Europe you would assume you still have to drive according to the rules of traffic.

Often there were road layouts where it was simply impossible to be safe. In one instance I was riding on a street with two lanes in my direction and one in the opposite direction. The speed limit was around 70km/h. At one point my (right) lane was ending so I had to merge to the left one which I did and I was now next to the oncoming traffic. The warning that my lane was ending was just a few meters before it did end so I moved to the other lane as soon as I noticed it. This was dangerous enough at 70km/h but at that very moment I had switched lanes a car from the opposite direction came at me – on my lane a few meters away from me. There was no solid line in the middle preventing overtaking in this dangerous spot. Vehicles were allowed to overtake in that exact same spot where a driver would not know that somebody like me would be forced to merge to a lane which he thinks is empty and safe to use for overtaking. Luckily I managed to avoid a collision. Nobody bothers to use the blinkers in Portugal either. For a while I genuinely wondered if there was a proper reason why nobody used them.

Too many times I saw people in front of me driving extremely slowly (40km/h in a 100km/h zone) and wide zig-zag lines not staying in their lane at all. I had been told before by Spanish people that in Portugal driving drunk is scarily common.

What bothered me most though was that 90% of all drivers where extremely impatient and held a safety distance of often no more than two meters even at speeds of 100km/h and more. On a motorcycle this feels particularly uncomfortable. I often gestured to the drivers behind me to keep their distance but it rarely made a difference. Everybody who drives a vehicle knows that unfortunately there isn’t anything you can do in such a situation. I tried slowing down, signaling them to overtake and speeding up but neither worked. Most of the time I intuitively sped up because I wanted to get away from them and still they wanted me to go faster by the looks of it. So I tried a different approach that was showing them why safety distance mattered. I braked as much as it was safe to do so. That usually worked and they left more space. Doing this felt safer than being followed so closely. I felt it was better to slow down when I am in control of the situation than having to quickly compensate for the sudden stupidity of others in a split second for example if they suddenly hit me from the back or if I had to suddenly break quickly because of an obstruction in front of me.

Driving in Portugal was really just as bad as in Morocco only that in Morocco you expect something to happen at any second. But in Europe you just don’t expect this sort of behavior. I am not exaggerating when I am saying there was a dangerous situation of some sort ever 500 meters. In Spain I had a dangerous situation every 1000 kilometers or less. It was really baffling. There are lots of places in the world a lot worse than Portugal in terms of traffic safety but Europe can do better I would hope.

Anyway my goal for the day was Faro. A city on the southern coast of Portugal.

 

I was told that Portugal was supposed to be a cheap country for tourists but I did not notice that myself. Petrol was actually much more expensive. Food at the supermarket and restaurants cost the same as in Spain. The only thing cheaper was alcohol.

Overall I was a bit disappointed with my first impression of Portugal. To be fair I had been warned by almost all my Spanish friends that Portugal overall might not be as interesting as Spain.

When I arrived in Faro I checked in at a hostel and went straight to the beach to eat my dinner. Not for the first time it consisted of a can of fish and bread. It was very good nonetheless.

I was exhausted and stayed at the beach until sunset before I returned to my hostel.

The next morning I continued to Lagos. Another city on the southern coast close to Faro. It had been recommended to me by fellow travelers. What seemed like another disappointment at first turned out to be a real highlight.

The hostel there was one of the most expensive ones I had stayed at, yet at the same time the cheapest looking one. So as soon as I had checked in I left again going for the beach. This time the coast looked completely different.

What was still the same though was these unusual types of little trees which were growing all along the southern coast of Spain and Portugal. They seem to like the heat.

I didn’t so I went for a swim in the refreshing water which took some getting used to after having enjoyed the perfectly tempered Mediterranean Sea.

The water was very clear but contrary to Spain it was also “cold”. The water here was not from the Mediterranean sea but from the wide open Atlantic ocean where it didn’t heat up like south of Spain. For the first time since entering Spain I also noticed clouds in the evening sky.

Back at the hostel I met some great people with whom I spent the rest of the night talking about the most random topics and making plans to go kayaking along the coast the next day. I had actually wanted to leave Lagos early in the morning but my new friends convinced me to stay.

When we got the tickets for the kayaking tour the person selling them wanted to rip us off asking for 25 Euros each. We told him our friends had taken the tour the other day for 15 Euros (which was true) and he immediately changed the price. Roman (standing behind me) quick-wittedly told the guy that “other friends” of ours had taken the tour for 5 Euros but unfortunately it didn’t work.

Unfortunately I hadn’t noticed my GoPro camera’s lens being foggy before we started the tour because the scenery was breathtaking.

We passed underneath natural rock bridges and explored caves in the cliffs.

We probably paddled down the coast for over an hour before we landed at a little beach where we paused for a few minutes which gave us time to rest and the opportunity to go snorkeling.

Just a few meters into the water I saw sea cucumbers and lots sea urchins. Had I not decided to snorkel I might have stepped on one because the water was very shallow and they were everywhere.

It was a great tour and it would have been worth the 25 Euros – but don’t tell the guy.

After we had returned back to where we started I still wanted to push on to the west and eventually north of Portugal the same day so I said goodbye to my fellow travelers in the afternoon and set course for Sagres, the most South-Western point of mainland Europe.

Before continuning my journey to Portugal I booked one last night at the hostel to make a day trip to Cordoba.

Cordoba is a beautiful old city with great architecture and history. It contains great remnants of its Roman and Moorish past. However to me and most Austrians the city is almost exclusively associated with Austrias football history.

“The Miracle of Cordoba” as it is called refers to a game during the 1978 World Cup in which the Austrian underdog team defeated its eternal archenemy Germany 3:2. The Germans call the same game “The Disgrace of Cordoba”. It had been the first time in roughly 50 years that Austria had won over Germany in football. In Vienna there even is a square called “Cordoba Square” named after this game.

In the morning I started my trip to Cordoba which was going to be less than a two hours ride. Once again the engine died riding in the 40 degrees heat at high speed for – apparently too long. I was already used to it and quite frankly expecting and waiting for it on longer stretches of road. In the mean time I had found out that this is a common problem with this particular engine. The engine of this bike is said to be one of the best “parallel-twin” motorcycle engines but they have this one issue where the engine dies randomly and not even BMW knows why this happens on these engines. Regardless the F650GS is one of the most sold motorcycle of its class.

Eventually I made it to Cordoba and my first goal was what Cordoba is actually most known for. The striped arches inside its  cathedral.

Once more what is now a Christian church was originally Moorish …

… and later converted and extended to a Christian church.

The Roman past of the city was visible with this wonderfully restored Roman bridge …

(I’m not sure what was burining there in the background.)

… and the Roman pillars left of this structure.

Before leaving Cordoba I made one last stop at a special place. The foodball stadium of Cordoba where the miracle happened almost 40 years ago.

Among my roommates were Cassia from Australia and Josh from the US. Together we spent the afternoon exploring parts of the city. We found out that we all work in the movie industry. While I work behind the camera in post production they are in front of the camera as actors.

We visited a palace which like many buildings in Spain had Moorish origins and later other styles were added.

The large and empty rooms were decorated with amazing detail. It would have been interesting to see how people lived in these huge open spaces. Unfortunately like most of the old castles and palaces I had visited so far on this trip there was no furniture inside. The rooms, even the ones to the outside walls had very few windows if any at all. This was to not allow the warm air or sun to get in. While it was unpleasantly hot on the outside the temperature seemed perfectly tuned inside.

The thin pillars which are typical for Moorish architecture always seemed a little bit too thing for the weight they were carrying which considering how long they have already lasted is a great compliment to the architects.

Like at most palaces in the hot areas of Spain the display of water and lushes gardens used to be one of the most impressive ways to show wealth.

It was afternoon and because of the siesta the streets were empty. I must admit that before I came to Spain I thought siesta is something from old books that maybe a few old people still do out of tradition but in fact everything closes in the afternoon and the busy lively streets of the morning seem deserted until the evening. People retreat to their homes escaping the exhausting heat that also made me sleepy after lunch every day much more than I expected.

The tower of the Christian cathedral which is one of the largest churches in the world is Moorish and used to be part of a Mosque. The Christian church was added later.

We decided not to go inside though because it was 10 Euros and we were told that inside you don’t notice the huge scale because it’s not just on huge room but many smaller ones.

This building reminded me a lot of the Austrian sate opera house. (Where Mission Impossible: Rouge Nation was shot)

One of the oldest buildings in the city which now houses a (very) little ship museum.

Sadly Pakorn Eyve and Jessie had left Sevillia in the morning. Pakorn kindly left me his bus tour ticket with one remaining day allowing me to take free bus tour through the city. – Thank you, Pakorn!

Like in most Spanish cities there is a bull fighting arena. This one is particularly big.

This building is one of the tallest in Spain. Close to 200m if I recall correctly. It was one of the first buildings to utilize ceramic as a building material to deflect the heat similar to the tiles on the NASA space shuttle.

Apropos space shuttle, at a technology park there is a real Ariane 4 (equivalent of the American Saturn V) rocket.

Modern architecture in the city centre.

This municipal building was built to resemble either an amphitheater or a bull fighting arena.