Jane & Rog Plod to Portugal

jumartoo

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Pasteis de Belém in Lisbon Is the gold standard so far. I forced our friend on a 5km route march through the sun to have one.

We were taken to the old building (all blue and white tiles), to eat the real thing, by a local Lisbonian friend. They are VERY nice.

We also had to taste three different Ports (at 10.00 in the morning) 😂
 
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Jane And Rog

Jane And Rog

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We were taken to the old building (all blue and white tiles), to eat the real thing, by a local Lisbonian friend. They are VERY nice.

We also had to taste three different Ports (at 10.00 in the morning) 😂
We tasted about 7 (two different places). At least it was the afternoon. We were a bit tired and emotional at dinner though.

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Jane And Rog

Jane And Rog

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Espania!

The rain hadn’t arrived when we woke up but it came soon afterwards. We’d already decided that although we liked the beach and town, the camping in Fuseta which from some angles looked like a refugee camp managed by Disney wasn’t for us.

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Surely a princess awaits
We checked out and Jane was given a bollocking for my mistake of incorrectly attaching Denby to shore power.

The rain abated a bit and allowed us to do some touristing. First the tiny village of VIla Nova de Cacela. This polished little village gives you a feel for what the Algarve was possibly like in the 50s and why it drew those early package holiday makers. Of course now the village is dead during the off season - there’s nobody anround and every house is a locked down AirBnB. You can’t have everything.

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A princess.
From there to Monte Gordo - the modern algarve. The only real reason to visit was that we were running out of chances for a final Pastel Del Nata. Monte Gordo didn’t feel promising with most restaurants offering variations on British pub classics.

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Does the apple pie also come with chips?

Self awareness comes slowly around these parts and we decided that we’re not Algarve beach type people. Maybe fishing ports are more our thing. They also have ferries and we haven’t done that yet. Sensing our dismissal, Monte Gordo pulled a rabbit from a hat - or rather a PAstel Del Nata from a pastelaria. The Coral Pastelaria on our way back from the beach delivered the best yet. Slightly overdone but good custard. A solid 8.

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Winner!
Our port stop was the last town in Portugal - Villa Real San Antonio. We hoped that we’d be able to get the tiny ferry to Spain but the lady in the ticket office mimed that Denby was too big for the ferry. Shame. We had plenty of parking on the clock and spent a pleasant hour wandering round the market then swerving this alarmingly named restaurant, returned to the Marina’s cafe.

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Gulp
It was our first (and only) Portuguese Tapas:

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Clockwise from the top: anchovies, ears (pig), cuttlefish, tuna belly and gizzards (not pig) in the middle.

The ears were a little undercooked and hence slightly harder than our teeth so Flynn got most of them.

I also bought this at the market
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which is going to have the effect of reducing future blogs posts where I’m on duty to “Hu? Sorry, I wasn’t listening”
We had planned to stay just over the river in Spain but the site gave us PTSD flashbacks to last night so we continued on though the increasingly heavy rain to Camping La Alexa near to El Rocio where they still think it’s the 1850s and conduct all their business on horseback. They also have a rather special pilgrimage but it’s at Pentecost so we’re about as poorly timed as you could be.

The rain came on heavily about 4pm. Flynn got a cursory walk around the site and then we sat around until dinner time. Luckily they operate on camp time not Spanish time so we were actually late for the limited tables. Luckily the staff were happy to help us out, pulling a table out of the breakfast areas and serving us some nice pata negra and then black rice. An unintentionally gothic meal.

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Just imagine the colour of the ham!

We returned to the van to find a message from Lenny HB they were also washed out from a posh 4x4 trip and back, three pitches down from us. In a Motorhome fun version of a Marvel Crossover edition we abandoned Flynn and took them up on their offer of Rioja and under-sold (“we don’t like it very much but have some if you want”) but delicious gin.
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Gin, models own
 

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You too though I feel a little worse for wear after all that gin! :)
I'm fine just woken up. 😊
Did Jane finish the bottle before bed? 🤣

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Jane And Rog

Jane And Rog

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Brilliant, but I would get Flynn to the vets he looks jaundice. :LOL:
His eyes are that colour! In sunlight anyway. The dog with amber eyes.

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Jane And Rog

Jane And Rog

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It’s great! What do you use to do these, please?
Thanks! I use an app called Procreate which is a one-off payment of £12.99. It seems to be what most proper artists use so I thought I couldn’t go far wrong.

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Jane And Rog

Jane And Rog

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I woke feeling somewhat delicate after Lenny’s quadruple gin plus chaser on top of my dinner wine. Rog claimed to be feeling fine but as soon as we parked up in El Rocio he demanded breakfast as he was feeling a little queasy. He showed off his Spanish by ordering two coffees and a tostada with ham and tomato. Once that was down our gaping maws, we were ready to explore.


El Rocio is straight out of the Wild West - wide sandy streets lined with white single-storey houses, each with a veranda and a rail and post fence to tie your horse to.

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But what the town is really known for is the feast day at Pentecost. The members of 124 hermandades or brotherhoods make the picturesque journey into town in ox- or horse-drawn wagons, and they all stay in their special group houses for the duration.

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During the night procession, the oldest of the brotherhoods gets to parade the statue of the Nuestra Señora del Rocío around. Here she is in the church today - a little bit too plain for my tastes, couldn’t they add more gold?

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Our next mad idea was to backtrack to see the Muelle de las Carabelas, a museum / wharf where you can board life-size replicas of the Niña, the Pinta and the Santa María – the three ships used by Columbus in his initial trans-Atlantic expedition. The mad idea was made as it was still cloudy enough to leave Flynn in the van. Except it wasn’t when we arrived. Luckily there was a decent patch of deep shade and we whizzed around the boats in an hour.


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We’d intended to stay in the same car park on a nature reserve that we’d used to hang around for our heater repair on our return from Morocco. But it’s now for daytime parking only - they really seem to be clamping down on wild camping in Spain.

Next port of call was Vodafone for SIMs, except we actually ended up getting Lebara ones instead. We seem to have burned through loads of data this trip.

Our pitch for the night is an olive grove called Cañada Real de la Romana, south of Seville. Just us and a French van actually among the olives, and three other vans on the hard standing near the “factory” and the loos. Rog splashed out on 2l of their olive oil to take home - it’ll be nice using it knowing we spent the night among the trees that made it.



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Dinner (or lunch, as we skipped that) was a bean, red pepper, courgette, onion and garlic stew with grilled belly pork from the freezer. Well, it’s sous-vide from the freezer, the grilling happened on Rog’s latest barbecue, the Skotti grill. It’s multi-fuel - charcoal, gas, wood pellets, batteries, 240V AC, and cheese. (Some of these may be made up.)

As we cooked we had an interesting chat with the woman in the next door camper. She was returning from Gibraltar with her prize-winning Border terrier - and the terrier’s mother, aunt, two puppies and three other relatives. Seven border terriers in one van - I even think one Flynn is easier.
 
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Jane And Rog

Jane And Rog

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Cadiz


Morning in the olive grove.

We left the olive grove fairly late headed for Cadiz via a Sherry tasking at a vineyard near Jerez.

As we drove towards Cadiz, I had a vague feeling that there was a famous prison there with, or course, a famous prisoner - el hombre de la máscara de riron or something. Turns out to be no such thing. The same is unfortunately true of our Sherry bodega. We’ve seen plenty of olive groves and associated presses but only a few vineyards and no drive by sherry tasting all day.

To avoid disappointment we agreed that rather than being an unnecessary detour, it was nicer to be off the motorway and carried on to Cadiz

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The 1812 bridge to Cadiz

Cadiz is one of the oldest continuously occupied cities in Europe - founded around 1000BCE by the Phoenicians as a trading post. “More recently” it had almost exclusive trading rights with the Americas following Columbus’s departure from here. Throughout the C16 and C17 and even into the Napoleonic wars we brits regularly sailed over and gave Cadiz a kicking. Francis Drake was first in the queue in 1587 and Nelson had a final go around 1897.

The modern city though was built after all this Spanish/English tiff when Cadiz became Spain’s first port. It’s a fairly regular city with long narrow streets with tall buildings. I imagine it’s lovely and shady in high summer but has occasionally been a little chilly today.

We parked up in the car park near the docksright next to a massive Cunard Cruise ship. It was getting late (British time, early Spanish time) so we set off fairly quickly into town for lunch.

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Young and full of hope.

For the next few hours we wandered across town stopping occasionally for a drink and a snack, also visiting the excellent market (well, I did; no dogs so Jane held Flynn in abayence) and out along the causeway to the Castle of San Sebastián.

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La calle principal.

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Do you have anything that’s not fish?

Flynn even got a run on the city’s beach.

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Good dog.

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Yes, we got wet.

Lunch happened around and during all the touristing, a few croquettes here (merely OK), a beer there (counts as food when you’re on holiday) and then a pork thing to finish at Michelin recommended Alanaque casa de Comidas… with some vermouth because Spain.

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…and some of the tiniest prawns ever. Do not show these to an Australian.

We returned briefly to Denby for a sit and a cup of tea and then set out for the evening, sans Flynn.

We had planned on doing the more episcopal touristing at this point but the first stop (Oratorio de la Santa Cueva) was full of actual Catholics doing actual services on a Thursday evening! The congregation were somewhat sparse and all quite very old. I’m not sure what to read into the fact that there was a woman leading the service. But, either way we didn’t feel that pushing to the front of the alter to look at some Important Goyas was the right thing to do so we left for the cathedral. Also: don’t really like Goya.

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Near the cathedral. Looking Moorish.
We looked in at the market for a drink and some nosh but it was closed, Google said “opens at eight” so we were easily in time entering the cathedral at 19.05. The nice lady on the door disagreed with Google: “It’s eight euro, you can come in but we close in five minutes, tower in ten. You can only do one”. We deferred and chose to have a drink and complain about Google.

By now, it was eight pm the time that Spain thinks about getting ready to eat. First some prawn fritters and sardines at La Tapita de Plata.

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Just like the pancakes you never knew existed.

Then, almost by accident, but mainly by Jane’s good eyesight and judgement we stopped at La Sopresa. La Sopresa specialise in Tuna, it’s been specialising in tuna since 1958 and it shows. They have really good fish. I managed to cobble together enough Spanish to order tuna belly crudo. I suspect this much sashimi would cost north of £50 in london or Tokyo.

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Extreme close up because extreme good.

Then, back to the van to rescue Flynn and, because we should share the good times, give this cat the thrill of its life.

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I love you very much pussy cat but also, I will kill you.
 
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Tortillitas de Camarones discovered them when we visited Cadiz and absolutely love them, make them at home as a special treat 🤤
 

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