Portugal, bloody hell!

Caceres, the rain drumming merrily on Maisy's roof, Pete and Gill immersed in on-line weather forecasts, Wunderground versus El Tiempo....prophecy, always a dodgy trade. But, across the board, no matter which way you look at it, our planned route north - Salamanca, Burgos, St. Sebastian/Donastia, a terrible forecast, rain, snow, blustery winds. No fun.

So, what to do? ACSI book, All the Aires, Michelin Road Atlas covering the table, Moto on El Tiempo, Laptop searching Wundeground - Three things are clear, the weather forecast on the western side of Southern Europe looks dreadful for the foreseeable future; secondly, the weather on the East, from Valencia northward is improving, by the middle of next week, the Costa Brava looks quite sunny. The final issue, by heading north a couple of days earlier than planned, and missing the stop in Merida we are getting ahead of ourselves, we have a few days spare.

The problem is, in the low season campsites open in Central Spain are few and far between and Aires are thin on the ground. If we wanted to head east, then one route would take us south of Madrid along the Duero valley, stopping at a campsite in Aranjuez, another route, north of the capital, using aires, taking us towards the Ebro valley south of Zaragoza. Either route would lead to the Costa Brava and a route home through France either up the N20 or on more minor roads north of Toulouse. In all it would add about another 400 miles into our journey.

After a couple hours of research and debate, we came to decision. We ignored all of the foregoing and headed for the Portuguese coast half way between Lisbon and Porto, on the basis that the over-riding rationale behind the trip was to go to places we had never visited before

So, a 200 mile drive west from Caceres, on a wide road across wide upland plains dotted with granite boulders resembling giant hibernating tortoises, then up through the mountains and across the Portuguese border into the São Mamede national park.

Empty roads and big skies west of Caceres

Portugal here we come!

Narrow Provencal style avenues

Gill and the road-side debris in a Portuguese layby

Past historical towns

and deciduous trees in leaf (it could be Worcestershire!)

What is certainly true is that all the posts in other motorhome blogs about the state of Portugese roads are no exaggeration. Compared to Spain they are narrower, more poorly maintained and prone to eccentric failures in road signage. Chief among the alarming moments today were narrow sections of Provençal style tree lined roads, and direction signs which took me through the picturesque cobbled streets of Alpalhâo, down alleyways where Maisy's side mirrors we just a couple of inches from each wall, and that's before we get on a rant about the bizarre nature of road charging on the motorways.

All that being said I'm chatting to Sarah on the phone, glass in hand watching a spectacular sunset through pine trees. I can hear the Atlantic breakers but can't see them from Camping Vale Paraiso, a few kms north of Portugal's, nay, the world's surfing capital - Nazare.

Sunset among the pine trees

Whoosh...can you hear the Atlantic surf?