Up and Down

We have paper maps, and maps on the tablet, but we had not cached the topographical maps of the route to Piodoa.  We know better now.  A day of accending 1000 feet, reaching the top of a pass and heading down, accending again, only to realize that we were going around the south of the Serra Estrella, and had to go up and down the ribs of the high mountains.  The places people of the past had built terraced fields are magnificently absurd.  What would cause people to live on these slopes, knowing that there was fertile ground all around the base of the mountain range?  There are hillsides where the terraces are 10 to 20 stories high, and the terraces themselves are only 20 feet wide.  Has there really been so many people in the past 500 years in Portugal that it was necessary to live in such conditions?  Was it social or climatic conditions, or fearing invasion from the French or Spanish that caused them to perch on the sides of mountains.  We felt like we were biking up Nine Mile Mountain.  Very glad for the paved road surface, and loving the shade from the Pine trees and the creeks to swim in and lunch by.   We thought we might camp at the top of the pass, but we rode into a burned area, and decided to ride all the way to Piodoa.  Where we ended up camping on an abandoned road past the village.

Piodoa is an incredible example of the Xisto villages from 500 years ago.  There are about 100 houses that are perched on the hill, and you can step from the front door of one multistoried house, onto the roof of another.  There are still slate roofs that were chisled into a rounded shape and overlapped on the spaced out logs.  Unbelievable stone work (Trevor, we thought of you!).  However, there are only 60 people living in the village, and it has been converted into a town for tourists to visit. There is the grandest hotel we have seen since leaving Lisboa, and I found a loaf of bread and litre of milk despite the tourist info centre telling me that the only place to buy food was at the cafes.  So we marvelled at the village, and when the tourist bus showed up, got out of town fast! 

After the previous days endurance biking event, we were thankful for the 17 km of downhill biking to Vide.  We didn't think we could handle any uphill biking, and were thrilled when we asked in Vide where we could camp that the cafe owner found us someone who spoke some english and had some terraces by the river where we could pitch our tent.  It was a delightful swim in the river, but we think it would be fabulous to be here when the towns put up a dam in the rivers and create in flow swimming pools.  It would also be a time when the villages would be full of kids on summer holiday. 

I am writing this sitting in a typical cafe, by the Zezere river, on a Sunday afternoon drinking milky coffee.  There is scooby doo in Portugese on the TV,  and a table of older men exuberantly playing a card game.  We calm Canadians are often overwhelmed by the energy of discussions here.  We have heard though that to get anything done here, it is necessary to yell or you are not taken seriously.  I think I will have to phone the post office in Lisbon and yell unless they finally release Marty's old prescription glasses that Brigetta mailed from Canada a month ago.  I am even worried about the old ladies in the post office, thinking that something horrible has happened, but moments latter they are laughing.  Marty and the kids have determined that we will remain at our site by the river (we have only paid for camping one night), and they are making mint jelly.  It may also have something to do with Marty staying up till all hours last night talking and drinking wine with Federico, a passing hiker from Spain/Argentina/France.  Anyways, the backdrop of the 400 year old bridge, and the nearby cafe to charge devices, makes it a great place to stay and keeps the kids happy.  Belmonte tommorrow! Read more