We had entered the great Dutch migration. Hundreds upon hundred of holiday-makers were heading from Spain and the south of France back to the Netherlands.
The stereotype that truckers and prostitutes go hand in hand is absolutely true.
If you have ever been in a camper van whilst the driver takes a hit on a bong going 100km an hour, and not feared for your life, you are a braver man than I.
There is always a time during traveling, mainly when road-tripping or hitchhiking, that the normal becomes alien to you.
Atlas Correspondents Eden Flaherty and Bogdan Kamuta are hitchhiking from Lisbon to Spain. Continued from Hitchhiking from Lisbon: Day 4 We woke amongst the scattered remnants of old gas pumps and industrial chemical containers.
As strange outsiders, we clearly ruffled some feathers in a small town clique. We were left with two choices: stay in the town, or walk.
A great aspect of hitchhiking is the semi-random nature of where you are going, and the freedom to head wherever the ride may take you.
Heading out of Porto was extremely easy, proving the “no rides in Lisbon” theory correct, and we managed to make the roughly 150km to Braganca in three quick hops. It was once we arrived that it proved a little harder.
The Roman ruins at Conímbriga, near Coimbra, are a slice of Pompeii in Portugal, minus the crowds and annoying guides. And it’s still being excavated.
In Batalha, just 2km outside of Fátima, lies the Grutas da Moeda, a 45-meter-deep cave that spans over 350 meters in length, and it is magical.