Hidden behind the castle walls on the wooded hilltop is the headquarters of the legendary Knights Templar. Having seen Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade and read The Da Vinci Code, I am aware the Knights Templar are associated with legends concerning secrets and mysteries handed down from ancient times and I am determined to unearth them! I roam this magnificent building leaning heavily on each pillar, pushing hard on sealed doorways, bouncing up and down on every loose floor tile; anything to reveal a hidden chamber which holds secrets from this mysterious organisation. Well my career as an adventurous Archaeologist is short lived and pretty unsuccessful as I leave with nothing more than a few strange looks from the other tourists.
Having been less than successful this morning and failing in Évora, I am not going to pass up the chance to try to photograph the impressive Aqueduto de Pegões that is poking out the monastery. I follow the road that weaves between the impressive arches and spy the viewpoint that will give me the photograph which I crave. I park my motorbike by the side of the road and begin to fight my way up the side of the hill through the razor-sharp, densely packed vegetation. Bleeding, sweating and panting in the sizzling heat of the midday sun, I reach the summit and find... the bloody road! I cannot help but laugh. I quickly compose the photograph and stroll back down the road to my motorbike.
It is a strangely pleasant experience, being drenched in sweat and riding a motorbike in 37°C heat. With the ride acting like a huge hair dryer, some might say it is almost refreshing.
I stop in the medieval capital of Portugal, Coimbra for some lunch and soon realise that I am so tired and weary. I am struggling to enjoy soaking in the sights and sounds of this wonderful country. I decide to travel no further today.
After finding a charming guesthouse to call home for the night, I wander the labyrinth of lanes of the compact of old town and explore the grounds of Portugal's most prestigious university. The students decorate the cobbled lanes and houses with a bizarre collection of random items that simply have to be seen to be believed.
Next I have a music lesson... Sung exclusively by men, the full, deep voices of fado singers combine with the haunting metallic notes of the Portuguese guitarra and a nylon stringed classical guitar to produce moving melodies. To show my appreciation I do not applaud, I simply cough as if clearing my throat as tradition dictates.
A true restaurateur is a miracle you happen upon in the strangest of places. Evidence starts with the greeting. Chef Gil, the owner of this one-of-a-kind restaurant has been waiting all his life for my arrival. There is no menu; Chef Gil decides what to cook and what wine to serve, he explains in a firm and polite manner. What follows in each of the six courses is an explosion of flavours from the fruit infusion of lemongrass, grapefruit and peppermint to the chocolate mousse and beehive dressing; resulting in the best dining experience of my life.
Should you ever pass through Coimbra, you now know where to eat. Good luck finding it in the tangle of lanes. There is no sign or no indication that it is even a restaurant. Just follow your nose ;-)
Having been less than successful this morning and failing in Évora, I am not going to pass up the chance to try to photograph the impressive Aqueduto de Pegões that is poking out the monastery. I follow the road that weaves between the impressive arches and spy the viewpoint that will give me the photograph which I crave. I park my motorbike by the side of the road and begin to fight my way up the side of the hill through the razor-sharp, densely packed vegetation. Bleeding, sweating and panting in the sizzling heat of the midday sun, I reach the summit and find... the bloody road! I cannot help but laugh. I quickly compose the photograph and stroll back down the road to my motorbike.
It is a strangely pleasant experience, being drenched in sweat and riding a motorbike in 37°C heat. With the ride acting like a huge hair dryer, some might say it is almost refreshing.
I stop in the medieval capital of Portugal, Coimbra for some lunch and soon realise that I am so tired and weary. I am struggling to enjoy soaking in the sights and sounds of this wonderful country. I decide to travel no further today.
After finding a charming guesthouse to call home for the night, I wander the labyrinth of lanes of the compact of old town and explore the grounds of Portugal's most prestigious university. The students decorate the cobbled lanes and houses with a bizarre collection of random items that simply have to be seen to be believed.
Next I have a music lesson... Sung exclusively by men, the full, deep voices of fado singers combine with the haunting metallic notes of the Portuguese guitarra and a nylon stringed classical guitar to produce moving melodies. To show my appreciation I do not applaud, I simply cough as if clearing my throat as tradition dictates.
A true restaurateur is a miracle you happen upon in the strangest of places. Evidence starts with the greeting. Chef Gil, the owner of this one-of-a-kind restaurant has been waiting all his life for my arrival. There is no menu; Chef Gil decides what to cook and what wine to serve, he explains in a firm and polite manner. What follows in each of the six courses is an explosion of flavours from the fruit infusion of lemongrass, grapefruit and peppermint to the chocolate mousse and beehive dressing; resulting in the best dining experience of my life.
Should you ever pass through Coimbra, you now know where to eat. Good luck finding it in the tangle of lanes. There is no sign or no indication that it is even a restaurant. Just follow your nose ;-)
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