Stage 3: Azambuja to Santarém 32.3km

The early morning had been so nice the day before that we decided to do it again, up and out by 6:20. The downside of this is that the cafes in the town were all shut but we consulted Mr Brierley (or at least his guide book) and he said that 5km away there was an aerodrome with a cafe. We wandered past fields full of tomatoes in various states of ripeness, being passed occasionally by cars and vans full of the people who would be picking them pretty soon. The flaw in our plan became apparent when we reached the aerodrome to find it completely shut. So, plan B, keep walking until we hit Reguengo and breakfast there. No problem, it was still cool and the walking was easy.

Nice and cool now, won't stay that way though

Reguengo is on the flood plain of the Rio Tejo. We hadn’t actually seen the river but according to the guidebook we were on its flood plains and it did flood with some regularity. This became apparent as we reached the tiny town. All of the houses, which were lining the one road, faced a four metre high dyke/levee/flood barrier. On the other side of this there were trees and fields and a park… way off in the distance, the river.We fell into the bar and ordered coffee and pastries. It was an old looking place, metallic bar, old coffee machine, ubiquitous TV high in the corner. The two barmen looked like father and son, the son looked in his sixties. We were subjected to curious looks but as we left a couple of Bem viagem’s were said.

The river is on the right, they say.

We walked past the brightly painted single story buildings and followed the flood barrier. Soon enough we entered another town, so we had second breakfast, which is allowed. The bar in this place was newer and busier. Liz headed off to look for some food for lunch (Mr B having warned us that there was a longish stretch with no shops or bars) while I sat on top of the flood barrier and adjusted the compeed on my feet (I blame the heat, and the fact that my feet are rubbish). At 11 we passed the last cafe until our destination so we stopped in and had a beer and some bacalao croquettes (they were like little dense cotton balls of coddy goodness). As we were dawdling over the beer, contemplating a second (it was hot), we chatted for a while with a guy from South Africa who lived close by.

We're in the shade, we have beer and bacalao, do we have to move?

Mr B said we left the asphalt and entered some “delightful sand tracks”. That’s probably true, if your definition of delightful is:- blisteringly hot, dusty and seemingly endless. We soon started looking for likely shady spots for a spot of lunch and a siesta. Eventually we found a stand of trees at the side of a field of tomatoes and settled on our thermarests. A couple of hours out of the sun.

Parasol...

siesta

We slowed down after lunch, Santarém, our destination, came into view but it’s on the top of a hill and it was a long way off. We had another couple of rests when we found shade but there was precious little of it. The tomatoes gave way to vines and we passed under the A13, glad to be back on tarmac. It was still a good 4km uphill to Santarém, Liz was flagging so we were not going to break any speed records. As we got to the town we passed a bar and gratefully chugged an ice-cold coke.

Mutant tomato provides diversion on the "delightful" sand tracks

The tourist information pointed us to a pensão (there were only two left in the town). After a bath (there was a bathtub, yay!) we went out for a shuffle around. It seemed deserted, or at least very quiet. There was a restaurant close to the hotel so we went there for their €7.50 menu. The waiter was very friendly, the food was simple grilled/barbecued fare, the wine was from the local Leziria vineyards… the following day was a day off… lovely.