Endless Spanish golden wheatgrass landscapes and earth red sanded valleys interchange each other. The inland of Spain has many industrial cities, which don’t look to appealing. We only make a quick last pincho stop in student town Salamanca before we cross the border to Portugal. It is my first visit to this country. I can’t wait to see the golden beaches and dramatic end-of-the-world cliffs of Portugal’s coastline. For hours we drive through idyllic landscapes of vineyards, olive tree yards and unfortunately cease blossoming sunflower fields. The backdrop consists out of mountains with sharp summits and the sky is picturesque blue with a couple of lonely clouds in it. We pass cobblestone villages and medieval castles. It’s hot in the van, all windows are wide open, which makes it almost impossible to talk with each other. We turn the music up louder and sing along with our favourite road trip songs.
Son Mieux – Easy
Native Young – Children of the sun
Groove Armada feat Richie Havens – Hands of time
Mattafix – Living Darfur
Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros – Man On Fire
Devendra – Banhart mi negrita
DJ Vadim – Black is the night
Nicky Jam y Enrique Iglesias – El perdón
Ben Howard – She treats me well
Lord Shorty – Sweet music
Son Mieux – Even
Laszlo – Mr Sunshine
Lana del Rey -Summer time sadness
Enrique Iglesias – Duele el Corazon ft. Wisin
Imarhan – Tahabort
Mancub Babywoman – A little too much
The War on Drugs – Under the pressure
Nicky Thomas – Love of the common people
Just before Lisbon we stop in Alhandra for our last night. It’s a sleepy, characteristic village. Old inhabetents walk slowly through the narrow streets lined with colorful tiled houses. The sunset paints the sky pastel pink. The Portuguese have mastered the art of cooking a basic delicious meal and we dine with catch of the day, olives, cheese, freshly baked bread and crisp vinho verde.
Alhandra to Lisboa is a 30 min drive and before I know it, I say goodbye to Charlotte who drives further south to Sagres, while I am exploring Portugal’s capital for a week. I have a history of making quick, impulsive decisions. Going to Portugal was one of them I realize when I walk alone through Lisbon for the very first time and wonder what I am going to do and what or who I am going to write about. But especially these impulsive decisions always have a strange way of working out surprisingly fine.