Day 3 Faro to Opporto (Porto); 27 July 2001

Breakfast at 0730 of orange juice, cornflakes, two coffees, one roll with jam, very rich scrambled eggs plus couple of hot dog sausages. Stashed four rolls for nine and a half hour journey to Porto.
Checked out about 0900, waited only two mins. for a bus and straight into Faro. Walked to harbour from train station with a day to while away until the train departs. The heat was building up so I decided to chill out under a palm tree at harbourside.
Planes were landing at 1.37, 2.3 and 5.0 minute intervals. A beautiful cool breeze was drawn in over the harbour water as a big Portuguese lady sat down next to me. I think she was miffed I didn't get into conversation with her. All I wanted to do was unwind and relax.
The day passed quickly in Faro that has a sort of oldie worldee charm of its own if you get around the back streets.
Boarded "The Azul" train about middle of afternoon after been told at the train station that it would be a really quick and quiet journey!!! There were motor-rail carriages with loaded cars at the front of train. It reminded me so much of the "British Rail" service of about 20 years ago. Great fun! What a laugh! A Rock, Rattle and Roll of a wide carriage with plenty of leg room but absolutely bone rattling due to worn out or non existent suspension I guessed.
Bumpety bump, bumpety bump, bumpety bump, clickety clack, clickety clack, clickety clack, woo woo - woo woo! Here in the middle of southern Portugal all aboard the Choimbra Azul Boneshaker. Soon leaving the underlying sandstone/marls/clays with their very dry, red, brown, thin, desperately poor soils and marginal land north of Faro. A true Mediterranean landscape of parched earth, stone-shredded soils, tufted with whitened grass, struggling, straggling hardy trees that looked like hawthorn and bushes. Some huge succulent cacti type plants were like the Maquis landscape of southern France. Scattered red tilled, white walled, old farm buildings without visible electricity lines. Many houses were often abandoned by the look of them. Then into a more welcoming landscape of hills and valleys with scattered, isolated-looking trees and fields of bright bright yellow sunflowers with heads either perkily raised or nodding to the hot sun over the sparsely populated agricultural Alentejo plains with its fields of what looked like cut grass. Hang on, what about the cork plantations that are supposed to be here? Many of the trees had lost their bark and were dying. marked out by crosses of white paint for the chop.
People on board the train were jabbering away in Portuguese as people do when you can't understand a single word of what they say. A busty girl was messing about with her luggage straps on the top shelf as the train was helter-skeltering along. A great distraction.
So, on The Wild West Train, with the metal jointing foot plates between the carriages clattering together, collected a triple decker stale, bread sandwich from the "buffet car"... two blokes working flat out serving meals, snacks and drinks at the same time. A cup of tea is "char" pronounced "shar". People were smoking in the eating area so I gave that a miss.
Soil north of Beja, about three and a half hours north of Faro was obviously more fertile with wheat already cut, loads more sunflower fields, lusher vegetation and healthier looking trees (less of the dreaded white cross.)

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