DAY 2. Navas del Madroño, CASTELO BRANCO, CASTELO DE VIDE. 24O KMS.
This was the shortest stage of the journey, and one of the most successful, for we understand that sometimes the amount is not incompatible with quality. After mounting the luggage on the bike (a routine that should expedite rather cumbersome) and the early hours of sunshine, I went Road to Alcantara. Last night I had deviated from the planned track, so when I tried to recover the original path, and the height of Villa del Rey returned to internally between muddy farms. A plainclothes guided me through a maze of doors and paths,
notable for the abundance of muddy sections,
where before reaching the water and wore the wheels six inches buried in the mud.
was when the GPS, as if fully Triangle, went mad. Marked what he wanted. Before leaving the hostel and had determined that the track appeared on the second day marked by a white line instead of the usual black, made it difficult sopremanera reading in the display. Just when I needed it, surrounded by bulls and lost on those farms with little reference clone, GPS betrayed me. After a few long minutes during which I tried several scans in different ways, all unsuccessful, decided to become a way he had come
and, as far as possible, enjoy the scenery that gave me that sunny day.
Already Alcántara, crossed the Tagus passing over an impressive Roman bridge of considerable height in its central pillar,
and soon after crossing the Erges, I stood in Segura, the first Portuguese village trip. From Segura Zebreira entretrenido followed a road, twisted and dotted of wetlands,
wooded
and steep.
continue to Ladoeiro, and here and connects with the path Trasnportugal authentic, charging the designs of outsiders. The landscape has not changed much, the typical meadows amidst rolling countryside, with its strategically placed puddles.
Some tracks allow ample advance at a good speed,
but then returned the humidity. Some did not pose major problems,
but others forced me to play a full, probing fords where you sank as if it were quicksand and opening the way the brush through my handsaw:
luck here and opened a passage between bushes and streams, thank goodness, I thought I'd have to backtrack. Bordering the River
circulating Ponsul and abandoned farms, finally came to this bridge:
circulating Ponsul and abandoned farms, finally came to this bridge:
At this point, and thanks to my lack estimate, had to detour a few miles up looking Castelo Branco fuel. I found the first gas stations were closed because it was Sunday, and could not find one open to me a few turns circling the city. Back at the bridge over the Ponsul, resumed the action off-road, road and Perais Lentiscais, this time touring areas increasingly hilly and forested:
In the dense forest and up and down hills I was in my natural environment.
I stopped in a village water supply. I also noticed looking at the church clock hours in the neighboring country is one hour late compared to ours, when I took to sync my clock with the Portuguese.
Perais
Soon after came the first Seridan firewall I found during the second day:
By far impressed
a little, then was not so bad.
After a while the road led to Rodas, smelly industrial city, where running quickly to follow a trail that skirted a swamp where the Tagus River dams along several kilometers .
The road was tortuous, entertaining and with good views. A good stretch this, no doubt.
Salavessa I went through,
and stock up again after water, I reached a new section of beautiful streets
and tracks / firewall
seasoned with their streams and wetlands,
which gave me new opportunities for reflection:
Subsequently, more labyrinthine forests
and thick.
Happy with the job done, I gave myself a moment of respite for tea in a cafe in Povoa and Piss, and more full stomach, I went back the caminuchos, the doors had to close and open one after another, the loss, the pools ....
... until, little by little I was closer to my destination, the strength of Castelo de Vide. Ascended by steep stone paths much more than this,
and almost without meaning I was climbing with the bike, cobbled streets climbing steadily to the top of the city, resulting in the door of the castle.
If I do this in Spain, feather me for driving on streets reservadas a los peatones, pero lo cierto es que no vi ninguna señal prohibiendo la circulación, así que continué en moto por la ciudad medieval.
Y, francamente, nada mejor que hacerlo a lomos de una moto, porque las pendientes de este pueblo eran de infarto,
Escarmentado de la experiencia de la jornada above, I started to look for accommodation before night fell. After dinner hosted and still have time to stroll through the old city,
and hence the envelope.
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