Two Wheels, One View: A Pillion’s Ride to Portugal (Part 3)
Day 7: Santiago de Compostela
It had rained again during the night, and the forecast showed more of the same for most of the day ahead. I couldn’t face another day just sitting around, so we decided to go and find the indoor market in Santiago and have a wander.
There was fresh meat, fish, bread, and cheeses in the covered part of the market, with fresh fruit and vegetables in the outside areas. When it started raining again, we ducked into a café for a coffee and some shelter. By the time we’d finished, the rain had stopped, so off we went again.
We decided to look inside the cathedral and joined the queue, as a mass was taking place when we arrived and we had to wait until it finished. The cathedral was immense, with halls leading off the main body of the building in different directions. There were pews where you could sit and pray, light a candle, or simply stand in awe of the beautiful gold and silver altar with its cherubs, statues, and colourful walls and ceilings.
There is a tour you can pay for that takes you behind the altar and up to the outside walls of the cathedral, where I believe you can look out over the square. There is also a small shop selling religious souvenirs, books, postcards, keyrings, incense burners, and more.
After another walk around the city, we found a lovely restaurant where we enjoyed a wonderful fish meal with beer and wine. Finally, we popped into a shop for milk and snacks to take back to the hotel before getting a taxi back.
In addition, I asked AI to produce a summary of the day’s walk using the MapMyWalk app. Whilst this has not been checked, you may find the supplementary information of interest – Santiago #2 – Google Docs.
Day 8: Ride to Braga, Portugal
It was a bit wet in the morning after rain during the night. The forecast didn’t look good for our ride—rain in Santiago with thunderstorms moving into Portugal—so we set off (again) in our wet-weather gear. It started to brighten up as we checked out, so things were looking up.
We joined the AP‑9 motorway again, another road full of viaducts with beautiful views of the valleys below, dotted with houses. There are several tolls on this road; we knew about one, but hadn’t expected three—and then another on the A3 (€7.20, €4.85, €3.40, and €6.35).
We had a bit of trouble at the third toll station, as the machine wouldn’t accept my card and there was no keypad for a PIN. I couldn’t understand what kept popping up on the screen, so we switched to cash. Luckily, my husband had some, though he had to dig it out of his coat. Once we paid and the barrier lifted, we rode through—but he hadn’t put his gloves back on. He was going to pull in but decided to pass them to me because a van was very close behind us. As he handed them over, I said, “There’s only one,” and he replied, “The other’s here—give me a second.” He’d placed it between the yokes and the tank. With the van so close, he accelerated—and the glove flew off onto the motorway, lost forever.
The ride itself was beautiful. The sun kept shining, though it grew chilly as we climbed through the hills, but the views were spectacular. We passed the coastal town of Pontevedra, which we’d hoped to visit by train from Santiago but had cancelled due to the weather. It looked absolutely stunning, with beaches, small boats, harbours, and what appeared to be fish, mussel, or oyster farms in the distance. You cross the river Lérez on the Tirantes Bridge, a lovely cable‑stayed bridge that I believe is lit up at night—it must look wonderful.
We continued into Portugal, passed our final toll, and after a few satnav reroutes, found our lovely villa. You accessed the front door via steps to the first floor. Outside, to the right of the door, was a large space for seating (or drying washing, as we did). Inside was an open‑plan apartment with kitchen, dining, and living space, and a bathroom to the left. Stairs led up to three bedrooms and two bathrooms, each bedroom with a balcony of some sort, plus a larger balcony off the landing. Under the living space, stairs led down to a large enclosed garage with a washer and dryer. At the rear, sliding doors opened onto a seating area with chairs, sun loungers, a pool, and beautiful views over Braga.
Day 9: Braga
We woke to our beautiful views of Braga—almost invisible, as low‑lying cloud filled the valley and only the tops of the hills were visible. It looked airy and magical. The forecast was for sunshine most of the day, so we decided to walk into Braga to find the train station, which we understood to be about 3 km away.
The walk took us along cobbled roads and pavements. The sun felt warm, but the shadows were noticeably cooler. We found the station and checked the train times to Porto, as we planned to visit in the next couple of days.
After that, we wandered into the old town. We saw several impressive buildings, including Nossa Senhora da Torre, Sé Catedral, Arco da Porta Nova, and Arcada. We stopped for lunch near the cathedral, then continued strolling and found a square with a fountain where it looked like a stage and covered area were being set up. I believe this was Chafariz da Praça da República.
After a bit of shopping and some tourist ‘tat’, we decided to get a taxi home. We showed the driver our address on the phone, and he seemed confident. We recognised parts of our earlier walk, but at one junction one of our group pointed out a damaged wall, and the driver immediately turned down that road, thinking that’s where we needed to be. We had no idea where we were. At the next junction he tried to ask us, “Is it up here?”—but we didn’t know. He rang someone, and we put the address into Maps at the same time. After his phone call, he got onto the right road, and we followed along on our phones until we finally made it home.
Day 10: Braga
We walked into Braga again today, as one of our party was unwell and we wanted to stay close. This time we took a slightly different route, using some of the same roads but turning off whenever we could to find new sights.
We found a lovely dragon statue, Fonte do Dragão, on R. Dr. Justino Cruz, opposite the Jardim de Santa Bárbara, which is worth a walk through—and a photo in front of the small fountain. The garden sits beside the Paço Arquiepiscopal dos Braganças, which has large arches in its grounds.
We also found a large “Braga” sign near the Igreja dos Congregados, where people were stopping for photos. We managed to pick up a new pair of gloves—not motorbike gloves, but needs must. Rain was forecast over the next few days, and we’d be riding in it. For those who don’t know, motorcycle gloves often have a little rubber blade on the finger so the rider can wipe their visor in the rain.
