I left Olhos d'Agua in the Algarve in May 2001 at 8.15 am for Loule and then north east towards Alcoutim, I stopped for coffee just before Alcoutim, it had been a beautiful drive, no traffic, no noise, just a symphony of glorious wild flowers and subtle exotic aromas, carrying on I took the road for Mertola where I took photographs of the very impressive castle and the river Guadiana. Locals had been employed until fairly recently working in the copper mines not far from the town which had been worked by the Moors, the Romans and Phoenicians before them. This area is the home of the very rare black stork.

I rode north on to Serpa, another attractive unspoilt town, passing field after field of barley and then to Moura, a name said to have been given to it in memory of the beautiful daughter of a the Moorish governor who threw herself from the tower of the castle after learning her lover had been killed in battle. A siege in 1657 destroyed most of the castle and what was left was virtually blown up by the Spanish in 1707. The church of Nossa Senhora do Carmo that is located near the castle was founded in 1251 as the first Carmelite Convent in Portugal. The town is well known for the excellent quality of olive oil produced in the surrounding area.

I rode on towards Póvoa but missed a turn because my map did not show a new reservoir that was being built and I twice ended up at a dead end with what I later discovered was the Alqueva Dam project. After asking a lorry driver for directions I found my way onto the road for Póvao and continuing on north I arrived at Maurão and took a photograph of the 14th Century castle overlooking the River Guadiana. Turning right here I crossed the border into Spain and turned north on a narrow road towards Badajoz. Passing Castillo Miraflores and the village of Alonchel I was riding through large farms producing beef cattle and some olives. They are probably several thousand acres each, having fields as much as 50 to 100 acres with stone wall boundaries all maintained in perfect condition, not a strand of barbed wire in site!

Then on to Badajoz, the site of the Duke of Wellington's decisive victory over the French army in the Peninsular war. Badajoz was held by 5000 veteran troops under General Phillipon an expert in military fortification, who faced with Napoleon's threat to shoot the Governor of any fortress who surrendered before the city had been stormed, put up an heroic defence. 3500 British and Portuguese soldiers died in this assault. My great great grandfather fought in the Peninsular war, arriving after this horrific siege (fortunately for him, and I, as I would probably not be here had he been involved in this battle). He joined his regiment at the age of seventeen in October of 1812 at Madrid, the battle of Badajoz took place six months earlier in March. I still have his diary in which he describes his passage by sea to Lisbon and his journey with another young officer by horse and leading a mule carrying his baggage across Portugal to join his regiment at Madrid.

I entered Badajoz from the south, it is now a modern Spanish city, I bought film and had a chocolate ice cream. The castle and the old part of the town is on the north side, but on the south side of the river Guadiana, which here although considerably further upstream is actually wider than at Mertola. I had difficulty in finding the castle owing to a profusion of narrow streets and the normal Spanish reluctance to speak English! I asked a prostitute for directions and she said that if I would take her on the back of my motorbike she would take me all the way! I replied that just rough directions would suffice and rather reluctantly she explained that the castle was just a little bit further on down the road on the right hand side. Everything inside the impressive castle walls is in ruins, the part of the town to the south of the castle is completely derelict, full of dodgy looking people and very depressing. I took a few photographs and found my way back into Portugal.

Just beyond the border is Elvas, what a wonderful place, two castles on the outside of the town on the east side to protect Elvas from a Spanish attack. The town itself is fortified with a medieval wall, moat and drawbridge. Also a magnificent aqueduct built between 1598 and 1622. Elvas was where the Duke of Wellington assembled his troops prior to their attack on Badajos. Inside the walls there is beautiful architecture, cobbled streets, cafés, restaurants etc. I put up my tent at Elvas camp site and went to the restaurant there for dinner; I had an excellent meal of slices of pork with a mushroom sauce on an enormous plate for just 1300 escudos (€6.50). Returning to my tent, I slept like the proverbial log and woke up at 7.15, made coffee and set off in a northerly direction on the N246 towards Portalegre.

I have recently (June 2010) heard that there is now an excellent camp site at Campo Maior 20 kilometers north east of Elvas in a very beautiful rural location but less than a kilometer from the town it is called Camping Os Anjos, they have an excellent web site which you can go to by clicking here.

The first stretch of road to Eulalia was a pretty drive with a profusion of red, yellow, white and purple wild flowers on the verge, beyond Eulalia there was an abundance of wild flowers across the entire countryside; farmers here have have not killed their wild flowers with crop sprays. Portalegre is the capital and market town of the Alto Alentejo, situated on a high hill overlooking the fertile plain of the northern Alentejo to the south and Castelo de Vide and Marvão to the north. I had coffee and a late breakfast here in a bar just off the central square, surrounded by impressive and attractive 17th century architecture with narrow cobbled streets and a preponderance of parked cars. Local industry today consisting of a cork factory and a tapestry workshop being all that survives of successful textile production in the 17th and 18th centuries, which include silk factories, the profits from which must have paid for the numerous grand houses in the town.

Then on to Marvão, a beautiful drive, up and up passing small fields of lush green grass and wild flowers. Then finally on top of a high hill the walled town of Marvão, breathtaking and awesome. I parked the bike near the highest part of the fortifications and walked the rest of the way to the top of the castle. The view of which I took many photographs was magnificent. One feature that I will never forget were the millions of insects that looked just like ladybirds, but black and without spots, that were everywhere in the air at the highest part of this 13th century castle. Their presence accounted for the enormous amount of Swifts that were enjoying aerial acrobatics as they consumed the plentiful supply of insects. The town, all of which is within the castle walls, consists of very narrow cobbled streets with many archways and rows of very small white painted stone houses. Originally the town was inhabited by Romans who had stayed during the Visigoth occupation but fled in about 715 as a result of the Moorish advance; they returned later to live under Muslim rule. In 1166 the town was captured by Christian Crusaders and in 1229 the town was re-built as it is today. The museum which is in the church of Santa Maria is worth a visit in order to see the display of mediaeval medical equipment. I went to a small restaurant for lunch where I had two salmon steaks and boiled potatoes all for 1100 escudos (€5.50) followed by fruit salad for 300 escudos (€1.50) and all delicious.

After lunch I rode north west for just 30 minutes to Castelo de Vide, the castle which is on a hill to the north of the town is small but impressive and has a panoramic view of the whole town and surrounding countryside from the roof of the central tower. The town is totally unspoilt, all the larger buildings appear to have been built in the 17th and 18th centuries, many of the smaller houses closer to the castle are much older. There is a Jewish quarter consisting of narrow twisting alleyways and a 13th century synagogue, which is the oldest surviving synagogue in Portugal.

Then on to Castelo Branco, about an hours fast ride to the north on a good road with a brief stop for coffee on the way. At first the country was flat with cattle and sheep and then becoming more undulating with some grass, scrub, indigenous fir and large areas of imported eucalyptus. I had read that there was a ruined castle in Castelo Branco, but I didn't find it. What I did find was a relatively modern city with many 5 to 7 floor apartment buildings and industrialized on the outskirts.

Following signs for Spain I left Castelo Branco behind me, once again beautiful rolling country with an abundance of green grass and wild flowers. I turned left at Ladoeira and then at Idanha-a-Nova I turned left and followed the road steeply down to a bridge over a river, through an attractive village and then left following signs to 'Campismo' where I arrived at about 6.30 pm. The camp site is on the edge of an enormous lake surrounded by breathtakingly beautiful remote scenery. Sadly the camp site restaurant was closed, but having had a good lunch at Marvão and a kitkat late in the afternoon I felt that I really had had sufficient. After erecting my tent I had a shower in the very civilised and clean shower building after which I wrote some of the above and went to bed. I awoke at 6.15 and after several cups of coffee and a walk down to the lake, I packed up my tent and left at 8.30 am and rode north around the east side of the lake.

After 30 minutes of riding past lush green fields with cattle and sheep peacefully grazing in the morning sunlight I rounded a corner and there just ahead the small mediaeval fortified village of Idanha-a-Velha. I cannot think of a sufficient superlative to describe this picture (needless to say I stopped and took one), the morning mist rising from the village gave it a mystical ambience, it was almost as if I had gone through a time warp back to the 13th century. The village was originally Roman and there are still some Roman remains to be found there, which include the foundations of a Roman temple, a bridge and the largest collection of Roman epigraphs ever found in one place. The Visigoths built a town there and called it Egitana and built their cathedral on top of the Roman temple. Now at 9 am the inhabitants appeared to be still asleep, except for two women in their aprons sweeping the cobbled street outside their houses. I parked outside the only café in the village, went in and had breakfast of a ham omelette with coffee which was delicious. I appeared to be their first customer but was soon joined by most of the older male population of the village who came in to discuss matters of importance and drink coffee, a glass of red wine or a very small glass of a clear fluid that looked by the way they drank it that it was rather stronger than water. I then walked round the village, took a few more photographs and left on the bike at about 10.30 towards Monsanto a few kilometres to the north.

It was a beautiful ride towards Monsanto village and castle set high on a fortified granite outcrop which I had been able to see in the distance since leaving the lake. On the way I rode past grazing sheep, fields of barley, vineyards and some orange groves. Monsanto claims to be the oldest settlement in Portugal, much of it hasn't changed since the iron age. The castle and many of the houses have been literally carved out of the rock and most of their walls incorporate enormous boulders far too large to move to make way for house building. Some of the castle was badly damaged when its gunpowder magazine was struck by lightning in the early 19th century, this damage has never been repaired. From the castle I had a wonderful view in the distance of the lake where I had camped the night before. At 12.45 I rode out of Monsanto heading north towards Penamacor.

As I approached Penamacor half an hour later I could still see Monsanto high on its rocky hilltop behind me and to the north beyond Penamacor I could see the snow capped peaks of the Serra de Estrella in the distance. There is little left of the castle and so after a brief walk round I looked at my map (now disintegrating after almost 3 days of travelling) and planned my return journey to the Algarve. I left Penamacor and 20 minutes later stopped for petrol and an excellent lunch. At 3.15 I was back on my bike and began my long ride home. Passing Castelo Branco on the IP2, then Portalegre and Estremoz. On a good road passing through enormous expanses of grassland with large herds of beef cattle, cork oak trees and fields of wheat, barley, oats and enormous vineyards.

I took a photograph of Estremoz castle which in addition to its own fortified wall there is another wall surrounding the entire town. Most of the town is built of marble as the area is rich in marble quarries. Then past Evora-Monte a 13th century castle built on Roman foundations and occupying a commanding position on top of a steep mound. Then to Evora a city entirely surrounded by a high fortified wall inside which there are no modern buildings, it is without a doubt Portugal's most impressive city. There is a Roman temple, many Moorish alleys and several grand 16th century palaces and mansions.

From Evora I rode on to Beja, founded by Julius Caesar as Pax Julia, Beja is an attractive town with whitewashed houses and a 13th century castle. It is one of the largest towns in the Alentejo province. It is best known for a 17th century love affair between Count Chamilly and a nun in Beja's Nossa Senhora da Conceição Convent. The Count then left the town forever, the nun's grief and anguish were revealed in passionate letters that ended up being published in Paris in 1669. They were later translated into English and became an internationally famous love story.

From Beja I rode past Ourique and on to the IC1, which is the old Lisbon / Algarve road, a good fast road that climbs up through the rugged hills that separate the Alentejo from the Algarve. I enjoyed the last part of my 3 day trip riding round the long sweeping corners at 80 to 100 mph as the sun went down over the horizon over my right shoulder, until finally at 9.25 pm I pulled up outside where I live in Olhos de Agua.