…or something like that. You can’t fault me for poor Portuguese. I never spoke Portuguese in my life and I haven’t uttered a word of Spanish since one semester of it sophomore year of college. Aaaaaaaaanyway…
Here is a picture the day before I left New Hampshire.
While I absolutely love New Hampshire and I will always have an enormous place for all of New England in my heart, as a cyclist I am happy to be in Portugal right now. I flew from Boston to Heathrow (London), then took a shuttle to Gatwick (coincidentally also London, about 30k away), then flew to Faro, Portugal. I then had my man on the inside (you know who you are) hook me up with a ride from the airport to my comfortable weeklong apartment here in Cabanas, also about 30k away.
I’m really close to Spain, umm, also coincidentally about 30km away. Having never been to Spain, I decided to make it part of today’s 5 hour jaunt on the bike. Sadly, when I got close, I discovered that the only bridge appears to cater to vehicular traffic only. So here’s a picture of the bridge – which looks much like the Lenny Zakim bridge in Boston – and Spain on the other side.
Oh, and here’s my bike. She’s a beautiful steed.
The things I know Portugal is famous for are it’s sardines and cork. I rode by some cork trees, but wasn’t speedy enough to snap a picture off. I did manage to catch a picture of the sardines before they swam away though. Mostly because these sardines are beheaded and live in a metal can with olive oil. Truth be told, they are way better and fresher tasting than those from the US. Odd. Or maybe not.
Internet isn’t free in these parts, so adios amigos.