Day 59: Lisbon to Porto Covo | 141km
30 July 2026
After a hearty breakfast wrap, a big yoghurt, an apple and two bananas, I hurriedly set off from the city to catch an early ferry to take me across the bay, since bicycles are not allowed across the famous Vasco da Gama Bridge. Brief as it was, it was nice to have a short ferry ride to start the day and watch the sun rise over Lisbon. I continued along the EuroVelo 1 bike trail for a while but diverted somewhere, I’m unsure exactly where, and went through a good 20km of industrial areas and less pleasant neighbourhoods before eventually winding up on very sandy gravel trails in the forest. I don’t know why my navigation device thought it was a good idea to send me there, but without too many options, I continued and made it back onto a paved road a few kilometres later.
The further I got from the big city, which has been a common thread throughout this journey, the nicer the landscape and conditions for biking became. The traffic eased and nature opened up. I followed countryside roads meandering through vineyards and farms until I reached Setúbal, where I had to catch another ferry to Tróia, a narrow stretch of land with water on either side. As soon as I crossed, the landscape changed drastically again and now looked more like a dry desert, except for the luxury real estate developments on the peninsula. The soil was red, the vegetation low and sand plentiful. It felt wonderful riding along the almost empty road with both ferry rides of the day behind me.
Despite my early start, the ferries had delayed my progress slightly, meaning I had to battle the burning sun for far too many hours given the distance I needed to cover. I stopped at a grocery store for lunch, and it seemed to be a popular vacation spot for many, but they looked at me strangely as they entered, having just come from the beach, while I stood in the entrance of the supermarket gobbling down grilled chicken and a pasta salad. Fueled up and determined to reach camp before it got too late, I continued on for a few more hours and eventually made it. I hadn’t booked a spot for my tent, but luckily there were a few available spots at the packed campground. Tents were almost set up wall to wall, and one of the few places available was right next to a fellow bikepacker.
Richard, a half-Dutch, half-Thai but New Zealand-raised 31-year-old, was a wonderfully kind guy and one of the first bikepackers around my age I’d bumped into in a long time. He was travelling on another EuroVelo trail, and then some, for over 7,000km from Lisbon to Istanbul and planned on being out for about four to five months. He had recently been made redundant at work, so he took it as an opportunity to do something he had been thinking about for a long time.
In some ways, our journeys were similar, although he was just getting started, but in other ways they differed vastly. He would cover a little more than the same distance as I am, but in twice as long, meaning he, unlike me, would likely have the luxury of travelling a bit slower and appreciating the places he passes through better. It’s been interesting meeting people at the beginning of their journeys as I’ve been getting closer to the end of mine. I can’t help but tell them all the things I wish I would’ve done differently and how I could’ve avoided certain pains. In the end, though, I think anyone embarking on a long journey needs to go through their fair share of obstacles, and they probably manifest differently for each person.
Richard and I got on well, so we walked together down to the cliffs and beaches to enjoy Porto Covo, a beautiful small vacation town. The cliffs were dramatic, the water cool and refreshing after a long day on the saddle, but I did my best to stay out of the sun as I’d already had enough for a while. As two people, each on our long journeys, we immediately had a few things in common, which made the conversations a lot deeper than just small talk. We spoke a lot about the “why” behind our trips and what psychologically pushed both of us to embark on something like this.
Out of respect to Richard, I won’t disclose what his whys were, but I was impressed by his attitude toward the adventure ahead. Starting something like this on a warm, sunny and beautiful coast is probably a better strategy than a cold and barren North Cape, although I’m sure he’ll have his battles with the heat in the coming months as he heads east.
We continued chatting over dinner at a simple restaurant in town before heading back to the campground, where we said our farewells given my early departure the following day.