Back at Murtosa - 21st June

Interesting journey back. Got to Stanstead in good time for the 13:35 flight to Lisbon. No hassle with the flight and emerged from customs to find England completing a group match in the European Cup. I only saw 5min and it was a draw. I had booked a seat on the train bound for Aveiro leaving plenty of time, I thought! By the time I'd found the Metro, bought a ticket and waited for the next service, yes you know already, I missed the train. Annoyingly the ticket was for a seat on a specific service so I had to buy another. The journey to Aveiro was 2hr 15min so I settled down to read. No conductor appeared, I had paid for the additional ticket in vain. As we approached Aveiro I excused myself, I was in the inner seat, collected my bag from the overhead locker and headed for the exit. The door hadn't opened and while I was attempting to open it the train pulled away! I guess the conductor hadn't checked a ticket to Aveiro and was in a hurry. Blast damn and bugger it, the next stop Gaia, Porto. It was now around 23:00 so I got a taxi to the nearest hotel where I found I was unable to charge my phone. This led to a visit to the local gas station and after several attempts the guy on the till found me something compatible. This was daft, I have power stores, why don't I use them?

The next day, armed with a fully charged phone, I make my way to the local station and buy a ticket to Estrella, Euro 2;20, Local trains inexpensive but faster services expensive.

Change at Ovar a pretty station where I had to switch platforms by walking across the tracks, no barriers or signals, just make sure there are no trains coming!

In all the additional tickets had cost Euro 50 plus a night in a hotel. I should be more attentive, but sadly I admit to having history in this matter.

I take the bike on the off chance England will on the TV.

The landlord at Cafe Finca (Black Lion) is getting to know me. He's a bit gruff but brightens up when I request Um Cupo de vinho tinto por favor. He appreciates I'm trying to speak the language. I'm really taken with this landscape, so beautiful and empty apart from the fishermen and farmers.

I'm currently reading The Sea, The Sea (Iris Murdoch) and getting used to Charles describing his isolated existence on the coast and his detailed account of self prepared meals.

Getting back to my bus I have left overs from last night but don't feel like firing up the stove. Instead I carefully slice and butter two rolls which I fill with a gloriously ripe Avocado. Next I add some selected salami and slices of egg I had boiled at breakfast. Just the right seasoning of salt and pepper and with the Rioja I remembered to extract from the trailer, I've a great meal. To follow I have fresh peach that are just so succulent. I buy these locally and store all my fresh produce in paper bags which I check regularly so I can monitor how ripe/beyond ripe they are getting. On purchase I'm offered the fruit and veg in plastic bags, but I've learnt to collect paper bags from the bakery and transfer all the fresh stuff straightaway. All the bags look the same so when I'm looking for fruit, I find I'm checking that the onion/ginger/garlic are all good too.

While I've plagiarised the style, surely this blog should be up for a Booker prize? Iris Murdoch got one.