Sunday; The sun grew timidly and the temperature seemed to rise. But the body called for action and action was from where the sun comes: to the mountains.
I prepared the new Monte Campo, blue and gray, with 30 liters, and made myself on the road.
N1 to Albergaria and then up the Vouga. The road was slippery and didn`t allow great fancies; The sun penetrated the branches and tree leaves, creating a welcoming atmosphere.
With so much curve-turning, the hunger pressed and the first stop was for a coffee and a cake, in the Vouzelas`s Cafe Central. A delight, as always.
Good lunch and early in Cambra? Or lunch wherever and whenever?
The idea was to cross Castro Daire - for not happen like the last time here!! - I decided to continue traveling.
Passing S.Pedro do Sul is time to remember childhood, remembering this same road on the way to Penedono (the final destination), is time to remind me of the parallels road with oranges vendors, the blue Peugeot (or gray, depends on the Year), the car full of nuts and potatoes, things "that the earth gives".
Good asphalt and a course of great beauty between S. Pedro do Sul and Castro Daire. With the dry weather of the last days, the trees hold the leaves and give an autumnal color to the whole scene: yellow, orange, dark red.
How beautiful is my country!
At the top of the mountain, where the N226 leads to the N225, at the junction with the N2 and A24, I went down a narrow and steep road that led me to the river beach of Folgosa.
What a charm. A clear, crystalline water that the cold helps to make it even brighter. Horses and a flock, birds sipping in the water. With a certain step, a set of stones help cross the Paiva river, on the way to Santiago.
From there, with the hunger to tighten, the destination was Vila Nova de Paiva.
"- Where can I find a traditional food restaurant?
- From where?".
There was no musk rice and the goatling had been a young rebel... some years ago.
In Vila Nova de Paiva I went up, through a cobbled, mossy, to the chapel of Sto. Antony and the belvedere. Wind farm, a viewpoint for wind farms. Sad eastern country.
With the spirit of Aquilino, wrapped in the womb of fog, I rode to Freixinho, right next to Vilar dam.
The rest was in the Hotel Rural Convento Nossa Senhora do Carmo, a restored convent, with a beautiful dining room adorned with a large mirror. Rooms with a decor that is congenial to the convent and the ideal place for a short break with the right company.
Speaking of dinner, I ventured into the fog and went to Moimenta da Beira, to taste the cod with Cabicanca. Very good!
Opening the bedroom window in the morning, the mist rose slowly from the cold waters of the dam; Aquilino knew that land better than anyone: hard earth, stone and life, stiffening bodies and souls. A land where, with serrated teeth, it speaks of mushrooms, nuts and, going north, of the Douro.After a breakfast reinforced with cheese, ham, homemade jams, I went on my way to Lapa.At
the top of Sernancelhe, a shrine dating back to the 15th century, built
from rock to rock, protects the image of the Virgin Mary, dating from
the 9th century. Legend has it that a girl changes, entering a cave, found the image hidden by nuns, five centuries before. Her devotion was such that the Virgin gave her the gift of speech.A building covers the cave, houses the image and a crocodile. Yes, a crocodile! Then came other constructions, such as a college. On Sundays the sale of regional products is reason for pilgrimage.Legends live in that region and I swear that the secrets I have there are past; Legends or not.After the source of the three spouts and seeing the source of the Vouga River, the path of childhood continued: Penedono.On the narrow road, still before the Beselga, looking up, one can already see the slender castle.Dated from Sec. X, disputed by Christians and Muslims, it was later
used by D. Sancho I to proceed to the repopulation of the region, at the
border, through Foral.From shale and granite, naked, with the eccentric form of trapeze and
with pyramidal battlements, high in the medieval village, one can see
the immensity of the Demarcated Lands and the Corga, for my gift.From Penedono the destination went north, to Pesqueira.Old people, sidelong glances at strangers but the natural sympathy that comes with the first good day.After the repast, it was time to go to the Alto Douro Vinhateiro, down to Pinhão.From
the iron bridge, so characteristic in our landscape after the
industrial revolution, we see the Douro and Pinhão embrace each other: a
strong and a weaker one but always together, maintaining a perfect
balance and harmony with the small village of the Séc XIX.With the sun going down and the journey coming to an end, it was time
to travel the beautiful N222 to Régua, in the heart of Port Wine.Two days in Beira Alta, taking advantage of a weekend and bridge before the holiday. Two days back to childhood and childhood. Two days that could have been a dream if I hadn`t lived it.
