I have finally escaped... from my school. But now I will face a new challenge: five months with my FAMILY! Читать далее Hazelton, Canada
  • День 88

    Very near the top of portugal

    26 апреля 2018 г., Португалия ⋅ ☀️ 19 °C

    Up for 17 km. Decent grade, not to hot. We can see the 1993 m summit that is the highest point in Portugal. Camped in Vide on the river and showered in the town hall, swam in the river. Mutiny always a possibility, but beer and coke at the top should help.Читать далее

  • День 87

    Up and Down

    25 апреля 2018 г., Португалия ⋅ ☀️ 20 °C

    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! 
    Читать далее

  • День 84

    Bàrroca

    22 апреля 2018 г., Португалия ⋅ ☀️ 16 °C

    After determining that rear axels were not designed to carry 220lb bikers, and panniers, and trailer bikes, and a 40lb child, we made it to Barroca and had a repair done at the mechanics shop.  We had to go back the next day to get the bottom bracket on Stacey's bike tightened, then it started to rain.  We were comfortable camped out on the river, and so decided to stay.  We spent some time also camped out in the Central Cafe beside the little wood stove, drinking milky coffee, and charging our devices.  Jorja had some play time with Maria's grand daughter Matild who comes up for the weekend from Fundao.  Many of the children we meet are not comfortable with another language, but Matild was adventerous and taught Jorja some Portugese, and Jorja shared some English.  Here up to third year the children have 2 hours a week of english instruction, and then 5 hours a week after that.  Matild's family used to live in Barroca, but when the school closed, they moved to Fundao for work and school.  The same story everywhere.  Apparently unemployment varies between 20 and 30% in Portugal and young people leave to go to France or Germany to work, or to the cities on the coast. 

    We were planning to leave the next day, but when the community walk went by on the other side of the river we decided to follow them.  Or at least we tried, but we got thoroughly lost, and bent the axel on Marty's bike, and determined that Caleb's bike had no brake pads left.  We did make it back just in time to get fed the pork cuttlets, and salad and buns at the end of the walk, and it was good that we could stay another night on the river so we could visit the mechanic again the next day, or who knows where we would have been stranded.  Jorja had seen some goats she wanted to pet so we went to see who was herding them.  The woman caring for them was thrilled to talk (in french), and we visited while Jorja tried to feed the goats.  Sylvian shared her dried figs while she worked on her embroidery.  She took us back to the old stone house that had been in her family for 200 years, that was now her barn, and gave us a jar of olives from the trees we were camping under that she had preserved with oranges and herbs.  Marty said he wanted fix the roof of the stone house next door, and she pulled out her cell phone and was ready to call her cousin so Marty could buy the house.  She said we would already have friends, and she would show us how to preserve the olives and make cheese from the goat's milk.

    Marty was set loose in the mechanic shop the next day to fix his axel, but there were no matching brake pads to be found.  I took a taxi with two old ladies 30km into Fundao to a bike shop, there is a bus only twice a week, and got the right brake pads.  They may be projected to last for years, but really, with the hills we have seen since, I should have bought an extra set!  We left town at 4:30 and headed out ready to climb out of the river valley in pursuit of Piodoa, which had been the image Marty had seen of Portugal and needed to see.

    We climbed up the steepest paved roads we have seen yet, and pushed our bikes up some stretches.  There may be many towns on the map, but we have learned, that we need to ask ahead of time if we can buy bread and milk and wine.   This was one such day when the town at the top of the ridge did not have a little store.  An old lady gave us some water and cookies for Jorja, and then we ate fruit and granola bars around our fire.  As the light was fading, a car came up the trail, and were worried that we were blocking the road.  A voice called out, and it was a man who we had talked to earlier about his bees, and Marty had asked if he had a bottle of wine in the car.  He had come up to see us with his daughter and brought a bottle of wine.  Sam, didn't even drink!  He is a fine carpenter, and an amature geologist, who could live anywhere, but loves the rural life of Portugal.  We talked in a mix of translations between english, spanish, french and portugese.  We are loving meeting the people of rural Portugal.
    Читать далее

  • День 83

    Caleb wrote this ...ALL

    21 апреля 2018 г., Португалия ⋅ 🌧 15 °C

    Caleb: At first I disliked Europe and what we were doing (Bike touring) ,but after 3 days of 35 k each my butt ache and legs stopped hurting so bad. Now in total we have done 140 k (don’t try and add up the numbers cuz they don’t add up;) I have mostly liked camping in the mountains/hills because there are zero .0.0.0. People to bother me,it’s a vast world when we trek through the burnt areas of Portugal. Me and my dad figure that all the residents have a rule not to tell tourists where the fire was , if u have no clue what I am talking about there was a fire that went through almost all of Portugal ! Killing 100 people... well I’ll wrap it up soooo I miss am my friends sooooooo much. Byeeeeeeee!!!!!!!!Читать далее

  • День 82

    Grand Roto de Zezére

    20 апреля 2018 г., Португалия ⋅ ⛅ 21 °C

    Bike touring on a mountain bike trail.
    Marty asked for a time map of when we are meeting my parents, and he looked at me dumfounded when I replied "in three weeks". We have been "on the road" for four days, and it feels like we have been going for weeks as we are getting in the groove  We are actually bike touring.  We left from Lisboa on Friday last week, took the train 150km to Tomar, and then rode our bikes 34km to San Domingos.   The weather was still a bit cold and rainy, so we stayed for three nights in snug beds with a fireplace in Joao's grandparents house.  Marty felt a bit like he was in the Zombie apocalypse, as there is no one around.  Like many villages in rural Portugal (and rural anywhere), young people leave for the cities, and only the old folks are left.  As the last generation dies off, people keep up the family houses and use them as vacation homes.  In San Domingos, we ordered dinner from the cook at the Bernardino Cafe (Joan's Uncles cafe), and she cooked us up a portugese feast.  The bread van came each morn.

    It was a big first day on leaving Sao Domingos and we biked about 50 km.  We didn't intend to, but we biked to a town to get food, and then left town looking for a camp, and were near to the river, just a few hundred feet above it.  We asked for water in a village, and filled a 6L bottle we had found and camped on a logging road in a eucalyptus plantation.  Our small fire was mindful of the blackened woods we had biked through.  The fires last year were widespread and deadly, with flames roaring across valleys and wiping out farms and trapping villagers.  People have shown us pictures of the flames rising above the church spires.  The original mediteranean forests of cork and oak were replanted with pine forests, and within the last 50 years the fast growing eucalyptus forests have been planted and harvested making up 10% of Portugal's export.  So you can imagine that it is a bit of a debate, to keep growing the eucalyptus  (which also suck the water and nutrients faster than other species), or go back to pine and less fire hazard.  We can tell you that there is not information out there about where the fires have been.  Do not tell the tourists where it is black, is an agreed upon principle. 

    Subsequent travel days did not include 50 km.  They did however involve finding a campsite too late in the day, being tired with a BIG hill as our last event, riding up endless hills, leaving the perfect campsite too late in the day, and finding a fabulous trail system, The Grand Roto Zezere, along a river.  The villages along this part of the river have many Xisto (Schist) built houses, modern and ancient that are incredible. Areas that were burned reveal unbelievable old rock walls terracing on hillsides. Yesterday we biked 20km, in addition to a few km of detours, and our last 5km were along an old dirt mining road above the river.   We camped in the dark and quiet (we are usually near a village of some sort and hear the dogs and church bells in the night) had a fire and clambered down to the river for a gaspingly cold swim.

    In all, we are enjoying our travel.  Although we have not bike toured before, we know how to camp, and how to bike, and how to fix bikes, and go on multiday hikes.  We got off the train in Tomar, asked each other which direction we should go, and headed off, hoping for the best.  Marty has accepted that there are few animals, or fish, and has consoled himself with the old villages.  Caleb has stopped telling us he wants to go home, and Jorja is her regular happy self, chatting away in strange languages as she turbo charges Marty's bike. I have to admit, I was exhilarated that my dream of bike touring with my family 30 years after I had bike toured with my family, is actually happening.  Jorja has flowers on her handlebars, and wears a pink dress while biking.  We find wifi for Caleb so he can connect to friends, and Marty drinks cheap white around the occassional fire, and I am thrilled when Caleb calls out "I think the old girl is trying to beat me up this hill" and then promptly overtakes me.    
    Читать далее

  • День 75

    Off we go!!!!

    13 апреля 2018 г., Португалия ⋅ ⛅ 12 °C

    We have made it out the door. On the train to Tomar and then biking to Joãn’s Grandfathers house in Sao Domingos. We can actually pedal these monsters! A thousand thank yous to Filipa and all the family.Читать далее

  • День 74

    Lisboa

    12 апреля 2018 г., Португалия ⋅ 🌙 12 °C

    There was some shock returning to Canada after the heat of Costa Rica.  Vancouver was cold and rainy so we consumed alot of calories to make up for lost heat.  Our friends Sheelagh and James let us stay in their beautiful house while they were away, and I made it to my friend Sue's 50th birthday dinner.  It was a good break before heading to stay with Marty's parents near Orillia.  Walks and bike rides on crisp days, all the family, Caleb's birthday, easter bunny, and visits to sugar shacks. It was a treat to be with family for the holiday, and especially Marty's family as we never visit in the spring.  There was a bit of suspense waiting for Jorja's trail-a-bike that we had ordered in Feb, and didn't arrive until the day we left for Portugal as well as meeting the courier on the highway on our way to the airport to get Marty's sandals. 

    Well, I wish I'd payed a bit more attention to the portugese being spoken around me at school in Kitimat.  I knew none of the language on arrival, except for "thank you" and "where is", and quickly I realized that although the words in spanish and french are similar the pronunciation is MUCH different!  I would have to say that it sounds alot like Russian, but maybe that's because I don't speak Russian either.  Marty suggested that I ask someone a question, and although I think i know no portugese, I still was ahead.  Quickly, I am learning and its not that hard!!  It is very nice that many people in Lisbon speak english, and we have learned lots about the country from all the people that Marty starts talking to wherever we go.  Would you be surprised to know that although he cannot speak the language, he can still communicate!!  We have been assured that in rural portugal, few people will speak english! 

    So our first week in Portugal has been continually improving.  Jetlag is hard.  Especially when you are 12 and you don't give yourself the permission to be tired.  We have been incredibly lucky to stay with a family here who are also bike tourers.  Filipa and Joao and their three boys Manuel, Vasco, and Henrique have welcomed us into their home.  We cook dinner, buy some groceries, and Marty does his Mcgyver stuff with lights, and cars, and vaccums in exchange for a place to stay.  They live in a flat in the part of the city that is the Expo 98 Site which is a study in modern architecture.  Filipa says they are not normal, as both of them are Civil Engineers, but Filipa has also taken Psycology for 5 years and wants to work in schools promoting biking.  Joao is working on a business about promoting biking.  Kids go to nursery school early, and moms often go back to work very early. 

    We have biked the 10km down to to central Lisboa and explored the old city, especially Alfama which was the part of the city that survived the 1755 earthquake that devastated Lisboa.  It is fun learning about a new country,  where I know so little.  I was going to write about the country, but no, I still do not know anything, I know the moors were here, which is islamic and from Africa.  There was battles with the Knights of the Temple to convert to christianity, but I'll learn more and give you details!  I can tell you, there is much vinho here that is very cheap.  Joao made potatoes, and chorizo and fresh fava beans for lunch, it was delicious, and some vinho! 

    We have bought some second hand bikes from David a fantastic bike store owner.  We have our gear, and Joao has convinced Marty that bike touring is good.  So in the next few days we will head off into the interior of Portugal.  We have figured out which train to take to get out of Lisbon and up to Tomar where we will start our journey.  It has been colder than we expected, and colder than normal even for portugal, so we will buy some mittens for Jorja, and we are glad we brought our toques.  We might need warmclothes for sleeping as we have warm weather sleeping bags because it is supposed to be warm in Portugal in April, although the people who live here says april is the time of rain.  Rain and then sun.  We have a tarp! 
    Читать далее

  • День 53

    Heading up the coast

    22 марта 2018 г., Коста Рика ⋅ ⛅ 6 °C

    We reluctantly left Pavones, knowing we didn't want to have to drive the 8 hours to SJ in one day.  The Osa Penninsula is where Corcovado National Park is located, and is a huge tropical rainforest area that is protected, much of it primary rainforest.  It is difficult to get into, as you need a guide and a permit to hike in the park, not to mention the dreadful thought of carrying a loaded pack in 30+ heat and sodden humidity.  Not for the feint of heart, and not for us.  We did decide to drive into Drake Bay, and the road was beautiful, with river crossings but clouds of polvo (dust).  Marty rescued a spanish couple who had decided their vehicle couldn't make it up a hill.  The man said he was a very good driver, and Marty said he may be, but Marty was better and the gentleman swore softly as Marty roared his way past.  Drake Bay is a strip of varied accomodation driven up against the hills by the ocean.  We searched for accomodation, Keith patiently asking at several places if we might have a room for 5 for under $50.  Marty declared that there was no way he had driven in the road, just to give up and pay to sleep away from the water and finally we found a hostel, that was an old converted farm house (where we paid $36).  Angel and his wife (the farm belonged to her parents) rent out rooms.  Sadly Angel's wife is battling cancer. 

    Marty and Keith made their way to the beach and then town after the rest of us had gone to bed, to see the local bar scene, but were disappointed.  Still, Costa Rica, as much of central america, was awake at 5 am.  Motorcycles roaring past with folks off to work, busses picking up children for school that starts at 7am.  We were able to find the public path south that leads all the way to the park and would be a great hike on its own, without having to arrange to be in the park. Crossing over a bridge, there was a capuchin monkey that bared it's fangs, but it turned out it was protecting its mate and newborn baby that didn't even have hair yet. We passed many fancy lodges, and used their showers at the beach where we swam and played baseball with the almonds that the macaws dropped.

    We drove through the palm oil plantations up the coast which have replaced banana plantations on the Pacific Coast of Costa Rica. Palm oil refineries in several locations are owned by Shell and Mobile which confused us. I know palm oil goes into cookies and margarine and ice cream ( oh dear, more rainforest destruction that I am inadvertently responsible for), but the big oil companies interest in palm oil comes from using palm oil as an additive in biofuel production. Last year the EU was considering a ban on using palm oil in biofuel because of its contribution to rainforest destruction. And you thought this was all just about sun and fun! We made it up to Uvita, where the arial view of the promontory at low tide is exactly as a whale tail.  It is Balena National Park, and migrating humpbacks pass through here.  We found a route into the park, that avoided the front gate, but had us holding our bags and Jorja over our heads and crossing the river where the signs warned of crocodiles.  I think we may be pushing it with the save a few colones idea!!  The snorkling on the outside of the tail was the best, and only, snorkling we had in Costa Rica.  Keith had just taken his dive course, and we all agreed we were able to see a great diversity of fish.  Just ahead of where the waves were breaking, we were surrounded by schools of large fish, and in the more sheltered areas we saw all sorts of colorful tropical fish.  Caleb thought it was amazing.  The boys walked over to the other beach, in the hot sun, with salt soaked thighs, and suffered for their reward of finding a much nicer accomodation for our second night.  Really, the afternoons at this time of the year need to be spent in the shade, and the pool and the nice Canadians who owned the place were worth Keith and Marty's pain. 
    Driving north, we contemplated heading into the mountains to get to SJ, but felt like we had got more than our monies worth out of the little rental that could, and didn't want to push our luck on the last day.  We stopped in to say a goodbye to Shirley, Luis, Bradley and Ashley in Bejuco, and hope we will see you again some day!  It was burning hot, and Marty had just passed many vehicles tico style, but the highway bridge at Tarcoles, did not disapoint.  There were at least 20 VERY large crocodiles lying in wait.  I did not hold Jorja up to look. 

    The car cleaning and return was easy, we love Alamo!!  We said goodbye to Keith, and we almost made 1600$ giving up our seats, but they put us on at the last minute.  Onto Vancouver to start phase 2 of our adventure!! 
    Читать далее

  • День 53

    Pavones

    22 марта 2018 г., Коста Рика ⋅ 🌧 14 °C

    Pavones
    Pavones is a laid back pueblo way in the south west corner of Costa Rica.  Any further south and you are in Panama.  It was stinking hot, as usual, however the sands have dammed the river and a beautiful freshwater lagoon is the perfect swimming local.  Caleb was so happy to have freshwater swimming that he declared that we were not leaving until we had to fly back to Canada.  Jorja loved being in the water so much, that she learned how to swim!   She can now swim out into deep water, roll over and float on her back and then swim back to shore.  Yahoo!   We couldn't even find a place to buy post cards!
    Sat am Marty and Caleb headed off to pick up Keith (who was visiting from Columbia) in Golfito. 
    They turned the 1 hour drive into a 45 minute rally race including drifting around most corners.  They did the regular, get money, beer and rum (who needs groceries anyways!) and headed back.  We had not run into any police checks thus far, so it was lucky Keith was with them on this trip as the  Police found them.  They cracked a beer and headed out of town and would have made it past our first police check point, if Keith had been wearing his seat belt.  The hand motion to
    come here, looks alot like go away, so Marty continued to crawl away from the checkpoint as the well armed traffic police got more agitated. In hindsight, continuing to drive away with confused looks on their faces might have been successful, but they did the right thing and slowly backed up to start one of the longest and serious conversations about the horrific neglect of driving without a passport ($200US) or wearing seatbelts ($150US).  Listening to Keith dance through an incredibly circular converstaion where he continued to insist, "there must be some way we can help each other out", allowed Marty time to practice a 45 minute smile.  After many offers from the Costa Rican police to remove our license plates, seize our vehicle, and point us in the direction of the nearest bus, the senior officer decided they could take the three officers out to lunch to continue the converstation.  Keith dramatically declared that my young son was waiting in the vehicle and we could not take them out to lunch, but would love to buy them lunch.  Sometime during this latino dance, Caleb noticed one of the officers approaching our vehicle and decided it might be best to jump in the front seat and place the not quite yet consumed recycling a little further under the seats.  The transaction had to take place inside the sliding side door of the police van where Keith asked if 20K colones would buy the officers a decent lunch in Golfito.  At that point it seemed that we had made three new friends in Costa Rica,  with many mucho gustos we were on our way, ticket free, to continue our journey. 

    Pavones is world famous with the 2nd longest left break in the world.  We stayed at Cabinas Carol which is a great surfing hostel run by Pablo the Italian.  We met many great people, and had our only realy hostel experience in Costa Rica.  Caleb was a bit too young to participate in the "life" but he was definitely closer in age to the other residents than his parents!  Caleb and Stacey tried surfing again, and even with the bigger waves, had some success.  We were glad we tried then! While we were there (4 days), the wind came up, and the swell came up, and everyone who was anyone in surfing arrived in Pavones.  There were amazing waves and world class surfing where the rides were two minutes long, and surfers travelled out of sight around the corner.  At any one time there were easily 50 surfers out beyond the break waiting to get on the wave.  Rodrigues, a 20 year old Brazilian who is an expert surfer (we watched him do flips on his board while surfing), said it was the best surfing of his life.  We mere mortals swam in the fresh water, explored up the river, chased iguanas (they have incredible burst speed and do not move where one expects them to!) and enjoyed Keiths cooking.  Eventually we had to leave the land of perfect bodies, and head up the coast. 
    Читать далее

Присоединяйтесь к нам:

FindPenguins для iOSFindPenguins для Android