From the Algarve to Al-Andalus

30 September – 3 October

Over rolling hills to the Douro Valley, a delight of impossibly cute, rounded hills with amazing vine terraces, dotted with olive groves, and omnipresent almond trees. The Rider had selected for my Romanophile delectation a detour to visit the strange little hillside site of Romansil, a small rural estate. Up a narrow, windy but obviously Roman paved track we lurched for several kms, eventually leaving Tigger to stagger the remainder in leathers and heavy boots. The view from the top was worth it, though. We still don’t know why anyone would build their winepress on such a vertiginous hill.

Next overnight stop was Guarda, a noisy industrial town with much less charm, also poised at the top of a steep hill, and consequently very cold. To our surprise and great pleasure, we dined handsomely on butter chicken, bhajis and somosas at the silliest of prices: Sabores da India. Highly recommended, should you ever get lost in Guarda.

At the Roman city of Evora we booked into the blissfully quiet and excellently located StayHotel. Good service, comfortable, and Tigger was wrapped up right outside the front door. By now, we knew we’d arrived in Moorish territory when we rode gingerly along narrow cobbled alleys between blinding white buildings to get there. We ate simple salads in the Praca Mayor, and went out to admire the famous Temple of Diana.

The misnamed Temple of Diana, with Rider.

This turned out, rather prosaically, to be dedicated to the reigning imperial cult, probably Tiberius or Claudius, and was a little disappointing inasmuch as we couldn’t access the dais. Still a wondrous sight, and well worth the visit.

I was really excited to go to the Roman rural villa site at Milreu, just outside Faro. A switchback ride in increasing heat through the Sierra do Caldera brought us abruptly down onto a sandstone soil plain, scattered with small farms between invasive Tasmanian Blue gums. We had reached the Algarve, and now turned east along the coast a few miles away from the popular resort of Faro to find our Romans. So here’s the good stuff first:

The opulent villa — more of a large wine-making estate, really — was continuously inhabited from the 1st century BC till the 16th century. Which must make it pretty unique. Clearly they had no barbarian roughnecks in this part of the world, and the incursion of the Moors was merely a polite introduction. As you can see, it’s an amazing place, with the most endearing mosaics I’ve ever seen, in room after room. The pool in the large peristyle is still there, the winery is intact, there’s even a temple-turned-early Christian chapel. It is breath-taking, and must be visited.

However — Big But time — the presentation is appalling: very poor-quality, skimpy and faded info panels; almost no attempt at contextualising diagrams or representations; much of the site was closed off with sagging tape, and the resident curators seemed only there to take our money. No cafe, no bookshop, not even anywhere shady to sit. For a major Roman site, it is very poorly served. Such a shame. Wake up, Portuguese heritage!

We swigged the hot water from our topbox, pulled back on our sweaty leathers, fired up Tigger, and headed off disconsolately to Altura, our coastal home for the night and final stay in Portugal.

From the Front Seat: The Back Road to Hell

Staring at a satnav while riding is (imho) even more dodgy than when driving – especially when trying to read Portuguese road signs while circulating multiple levels of tight exit ramps. So what I generally do is pre-plan a route on ye olde worlde paper map, which I can then stuff into the see-thru top of my tank bag. I then try to persuade Mr Google to replicate that same route on my phone, which I mount just in front of my tank bag.

Unfortunately, once I’ve stuffed the tank bag with the travelling essentials – waterproofs, passports, bite cream, more cable ties, etc – I can only see the top 2cm of my phone without a stretch. But hey, I like a challenge.

The only really issues then are that a) the map is too close to my face to focus on it without stopping ; and b) Mr Google is apt to change his mind – many times sending me in circles, over dodgy mountainous back roads, or on unnecesary ‘two minutes faster’ unpaved short cuts.

This can occasionally be irritating, or even scary, but more often gives us an extra degree of excitement and sometimes even, a serendipitous discovery 🙂

The pics show my my ride-along set-up and evidence of one of Mr Google’s re-directions just as we approached the Portugal border from Galicia, Spain …sending us on a 2-hour diversion on dodgy, gravelly Spanish mountain roads rather than via the 2-minute cut through I’d planned!

If you are enjoying this blog, you might also like Jacquie Roger’s Roman mystery books. To find out more or follow her on social media, go to her Linktree.