Portugal en route to Espanha

Yes Daddeo Langley I write posts too, so here´s a long one...

Our gracious host in Lisboa took us to this amazing place outside of town called Sintra. Words could not explain this wonder of the world. It was so bio diverse due to a Portguese King who brought in plant and wildlife from Australia and other parts of the world. Before this was explained to us, Kevin thought that the forest looked simliar to Australia and he was correct. This place had species that have gone extinct in their native ecosystems but due to this unique new ecosystem they are flourishing. The castle on top of the mountain in Sintra was a stronghold for the Moors. Many battles took place between the Christians and Muslims there... a never ending battle that continues elsewhere in the world. The Muslims would conquer and allow the Christians to remain and accept Allah as the true Almighty, and allow them to worship their God. When the Christians took over they had no tolerance of Islam and would try to convert them to Christianity or kill them hrmm... nothing has changed too much in 600 years. Tolerance... or intolerance of religion...

We headed out of Lisboa and made it to a town called Vendas Novas. What my brother had failed to tell me is that most of his rides have been in the rain... great! We got a good dousing that day and rested there. From Vendas Novas we headed further east to Evora, an old fortified city which was again unbelievable. The city was surrounded by walls and had some old Roman ruins from 100 A.D. and a huge Roman Catholic Church dating around the 14th century. You could still see the aquaducts lines from the hills. We camped out in a chain campground which was great. We met some budding young activists from Belgium who came over to chat with us. They we´re telling us stories about the Bush rallies in Brussells being sprayed down by water cannons sitting peacefully on the streets. My brother was telling them stories of the FTAA protests in Quebec city where some of us Canadian´s were wearing hockey equipment to protect us and fling back tear gas canisters with hockey sticks. They laughed, as it seemed only fitting that we fought back with our national sport... Thanks GW for uniting the lefties of the world.

Back on the road again we continued on to the Portugese/Spanish border were we stopped at the old border patrol that was riddled with bullet holes. No more borders with the EU. We cracked open a cervesza (not sure if that´s correct spelling) as we crossed our first official border of the ride w00t!! It took 3 days to go across Portugal and we made it into a city called Jerez de los Cabelleros, which literally means city of men. It was a good hill into Jerez, but what the heck happened to all the women here, talk about a sausage fest. There were a tonne of stereo shops and after market car part shops. Very much like what most of the dudes are doing in North America, pimping their rides. The car culture is alive and well in the city of Men. Many dudes in Spain also have extremely poluting two stroke scooters and offroad bikes that they Rev the hell out of to get attention, too funny. Here´s a stat for you (correct me if I´m wrong), a two stroke gas lawn mower running for a half hour is as polluting as an SUV drving a 100 kms, ouch!!

It was funny to see how much Olive oil is consumed here in Europe, a litre bottle is as cheap as the wine... about 2€. They poor it all over white bread for breakfast, and we soon found it is a great way to get in those extra calories we desperately need. So we left the city after two days rest and hit a downhill that took us 10kms in a matter of a minute and a half, we were flying!

We headed to Zafra for lunch and hit have been finding it hard because we´ve been getting some late starts due to techincal problems and other delays. Siesta basically shuts these cities down and people relax during the middle of the day which means, no internet, no super mercados, or shops of any sorts. Bars are about the only thing open, but the streets are empty. So we have adjusted our starting time and working around as best we can. I can appreciate a culture were rest is important unlike North America were commerce 12 hours a day is the way of life, they still shut down shops on Domingo (sunday). We started to seeing these weird looking black pigs called encina pronounced enthina. They are a delicacy in Europe. The brits go ape shit for this. Yes, I have been tasting the sweet salted pig flesh, my old lunch time gang at RBC would be proud of me, long live the grill (freaks). I don´t have to worry about steroids and antibiotics and insane conditions for the animals as they are all free run out here from what we have seen. I still can´t beleive people still eat meat in North America... sigh. Whenever we mention the conditions to the locals, they laugh at us for our stupidity and lack of sense. The cows actually have horns like normal cows should. In norh america the "production units" as they are not called cows anymore, have them removed so they don´t gore any other units. Beleive me I´d eat meat again if there was any concern for welfare of our fellow animals. You are what you eat at a cellular level, one big reason I don´t eat sick animals. Ok no more meat ranting...

Onward we continued east and hit some good mountains with climbs similiar to the rockies. We see olive trees everywhere with moutains in the back drop and farm land as far as the eye can see. Little villages nestled along the mountains, truly breathtaking sites and eye candy for us hammers. We figured out from news casts that Papa was in trouble (Pope) and we arrived in a city on Domingo called Monterrubio de la Serena. We were ironically in Restaurante called the Vatican when we saw the news. We were out of food and no mercado´s were open so we struggled to find a meal to feed our monsterous appetites. It´s hard to beleive they call some of the places restaurants, the menu is 6€ for Jamon(salted pork) on white bread... and about 6 to 10 items that are all overpriced with no side dishes or veggies on the side. I guess we are a bit spoiled in North America were we have diverse menus from different cultures. However like anywhere in the world, it´s hard to find a vegeteriano dish that provides protien which we ultimately need.

We stopped in a place called Belalcazar to drop off some recycling and were called over by some spaniards with the international sign laguage for drinking. It was Domingo and we graciously accepted his invite. We talked to them in our rudimentary spanish about our journey and they contiunued to feed us homemade wine, whiskey, sausage and cheese which was A1 and all made from scratch. Our one friend Jose was probably in his 50´s and loving that we stopped in to share their hospitality. They were truly gracious as we became more and more clear we would not be able to ride our bikes out of the city. The bar which we video taped, was family owned and 90% of the patrons were family. One fellow spoke french so we were able to communicate at a better level than spanish. Round after free round, our friend Jose was singing us Flamenco songs. Kevin in turn played his harmonica which truly moved the family and brought Jose to tears at one point. Many hugs from Jose and a good time was had. So we tried to get some clear directions as we needed some food after the days ride. That was pretty funny as people were giving us different directions. Finally one patron decided to take us over to Bolera a local restaurant and Hotel. We arrived at this place with beatiful decor, really upscale looking. Our new friend seemed to get sketchier as were waiting for the bartender. Kevin picked up on this and his unability to communicate to us became more clear. We believe he was asking us 20€ for taking us 500 metres from the other place... we could communicate in English since he did not understand us. Eventually people were giving us looks which we were used to, being outsiders. He left as he soon he knew he was not getting any money from us for his small effort. The bartender told us he was a local drunk and that was our first experience with a sketchy dude.

We left Belalcazar late trying to find fuel for our cooker, not because we were hung over... we arrived at Bienvenida around dusk. We were rained on for about 30Kms so we were looking for some warmth and shelter. There was a small place that we were looking for a warm drink and some directions. We flipped a coin to see who would speak terrible spanish to the vendor. I lost, and went in to struggle through it. "Yo hablo espanol terriblement" and immediately she gave me this look of digust and shaked her head... wow great customer service. So I asked in terrible spanish for tea which she looked at me like I had two heads, and eventually she said no sternly with a scowl. We asked if there was any camping around... NO, how about pitching a tent outside the station NO. I was totally surprised by this unwelcomed feeling as we were two soaking wet travellers looking for some compassion for a warm beverage. This battle axe that rivalled my ex-mother-in-law set me off and I bit my tongue and left. Kevin went back in to ask for some water as we needed some for cooking and continuing on into the night to find a campsite off the beaten track. He tried his hardest to get a smile out of her no luck at least we got some water. The one lady came outside to lock her car... whoa... paranoia will destroy ya. But hey the country is a bit impoverished and have no idea about the life they have led... most farms are gated so you can´t even try a door knock to ask for some space to pitch a tent. Off into the dark, my light stopped working from the rain we headed onward eventually finding an olive orchard in the night. Broken down we made some beans and rice and left nothing but footprints before dawn.

We arrived in beautiful Puertollano, the population around 5000 and the age group is really young here. All the women have buns in the oven and there is a tonne of kids shops. The downtown is this beatiful park land and free mineral water has been running here since 1905. I think there is something in the water here with all the pregnant women. Everyone flocks to this old fountain in the centre of the park. The parklife is awesome, it´s a big social gathering. I can see why people love this city. People have been pretty friendly to us here. We´ve been used to being jeered at throughout Espanha as most can tell by our packed bikes we are not locals. Spanish culture is Spanish culture, not too many english speaking people and rightfully so, we are in Spain...

Kevin thinks I´m long winded in my stories (yeah a little), but hey I like to share my experience.

Gord e-mail us for the radio show on Tuesdays, we want to make a concerted effort to do this, do it for the Franklin Institute!!!

Peace out !!

Stevarino.