Cycling in Portugal

One of the few forms of physical exercise that I (Norm) actually enjoy is cycling. I'm not a "serious" cyclist; however in good weather in Ottawa I used to enjoy a 15-20 km circuit which was mostly along the Rideau Canal and the Rideau River – somewhat less than an hour on my old mountain bike.

That bike itself merits comment, because it was handed up to me by my son after being been written off by the insurance company of the driver that turned in front of him. I replaced the front wheel, front fork, and the brake cables Dave had snapped in an effort to stop, and had a cheap, decent mountain bike that served me well over several years. It did deteriorate this winter while we were still in Canada. With only one car between us, several courageous bicycle trips through ice and snow and freezing cold, salt and slush and muck were required. Nevertheless I was able to sell it a few days before we moved to Portugal, for $40, to a year-round bicycle commuter.

[Photo: Norm coming up the hill on our street]

Actually you wanted to hear about cycling in Portugal. I had some initial resistance from Audrey about investing in a new bicycle for a stay of only 11 months, but found one at the local supermarket for only €70 (C$115). A helmet, tools, a lock, a bell, and sundry other upgrades haven't yet doubled the cost of the bike, but we're getting close! So far I’ve resisted the temptation to replace the front sprocket set, which bends at the slightest provocation making the chain come off. Not to mention the front derailleur: this shifts between gears rather approximately and also makes the chain come off. Pretty much every trip, at least once.

[Photo: Norm in front of the "banda musica", a large statue of a marching band in the park near our apartment]

One of the required upgrades was a taller seat post. Our language tutor gave me directions to a shop that sells used motorbikes, bicycles and parts. It turned out to be crowded with old bikes and a partly disassembled garden tiller. Given my very limited Portuguese, I had taken the old seat post with me to show what I needed, "mais longe". There followed a lengthy exchange that was hilarious, exhausting, and embarrassing all at once. However we managed to establish that he didn't have the right size, but he could order one and I should come back the next afternoon; asking how much it would cost was simply more that I could manage. However I was delighted the next day on returning that my seat post had arrived and was indeed long enough. I didn't quibble at the cost of €10 (C$15): this seat post is made of some high-tech alloy of which my bike is hardly worthy, but it works fine. I also ordered a bicycle mounting clamp for my GPS, via Ebay, from Hong Kong, to be delivered by post, and was surprised that it arrived in our mailbox in less than two weeks.

Ottawa is pretty flat; the area surrounding the mouth of the river Douro is anything but flat! Having not had a great deal of physical exercise over the past six months, the constant up hill and down hill is pretty challenging. One typical ride that I downloaded from the GPS shows a number of ups and downs spanning elevations of 58m / 118' to 112m / 364'. My average speed is therefore a lot less that along Ottawa’s Rideau canal, but I’m getting my full quota of huffing and puffing.

[Photo Left: a local cobblestone road]

The other major difference in cycling here is the bone-jarring, teeth-rattling experience of the cobblestone roads. There are three choices for some routes: a normal paved road with traffic whizzing by at breakneck speed; a quaint cobblestone road with less traffic; or a quaint cobblestone road with traffic whizzing by at breakneck speed. The last mentioned are in the majority. The good news is that the drivers seem to be fairly alert and reluctant to maim, and there is less traffic outside rush hours. So far the bicycle has stood up to the punishment with occasional tightening of things like the handlebars; they have only come loose once while riding.

 [Photo Right: More cobblestones. Notice that all of the roads I cycle on, are uphill...]

Portuguese drivers at least here in Maia compare favorably to Canadian drivers whose average reaction time is four times longer (yes I made that up, but you get the idea), as well as to drivers in a certain other country, most of whom seem to see driving as a license to commit mayhem. I didn’t bicycle when we lived there!