Somewhere Out There at the End of the World
SOMEWHERE OUT THERE….
At the End of the World
Today I made it to the End of the World. At least the end of the Old World, anyway, which it turns out is less than an hour from a minha casa em Lisboa. The spot is officially known as Cabo da Roca and what follows are the notes of how I arrived there today and what lived up to being an absolutely spectacularly blue-skied day.
Now, this trip was not exactly my preferred “Dawn Patrol” - the temps of 45°F at 6:30am were not exactly inspiring when the only option is my Honda ADV350. That, however, turned out to be a good thing because at 8:30am after traveling 25 miles on the super highway (A5) the road went local which means two-lane, narrow, winding, steep and VERY curvy. So it was good to have a little daylight on the drive. That helped, too, when the road straightened out and I could get some glimpses of the landscape accompanied by pinching myself as it felt as though I had died and gone to heaven. Which could easily have been the case. The road wasn’t quite as bad as the infamous white-knuckle experience of driving the Amalfi Coast but when there was only a 1 foot concrete curb between me and oblivion and a tour bus came ‘round the bend you could excuse me for confusing the two. “Code Brown!”
But eventually the road leveled to a soft downhill run and…there it was: the lighthouse at Cabo da Roca, famous for being THE westernmost spot of the entire European continent - indeed, the Eurasian Landmass. It did not, shall we say, disappoint. Now, having lived in Montauk, NY for 25 years I am familiar with lighthouses as historical landmarks. But in fact, the lighthouse at Cabo da Roca predates Montauk’s by 5 years having started operation in 1792. And when you get up to the parking lot the icing on the cake is finding yourself 460 above the crashing waves and incredible rock croppings of the Portuguese coastline. AMAZING! It is a major reminder just how beautiful this world can be.
Thankfully, at 9:30 the ‘hordes’ had yet to arrive. Even in February a beautiful day will attract a crowd which eventually it did. I also learned that Montauk Point is not the only place where bikers meet up. By the time I left the parking lot looked like a convention. However, it can’t be overlooked that the biker crowd here, like the great majority of everyone I have come across in Portugal so far, no matter who you are or where you’re from, is friendly, accommodating, happy, polite and helpful.
It was a glorious morning to be amongst the crowd at this End of the World.
