After Braga, we drove towards the Parque Natural do Litoral Norte. Someone had told me they had heard it was a nice place to visit.
So we put the name of the park in the navigator and off we go.
Half an hour later, we’re deep in the cloudy forest, the car’s belly being tickled by grass, the wheels starting to slip on the nearly-dry mud. We turned the navigator off and followed a tractor the hell out of there!
On exiting the park we found ourselves in front of the ocean.
Our plan was to get off, take a few photos and continue.
We never managed.
Instead, we roamed.
We picked up stones (incredible round! How strong the current must be there, to mould the stones so!).
We scared sea birds. We looked for animals in the rock pools. We looked at beached kelp.
We saw fishermen fishing from the shore.
And went to visit their boats, kept not in a harbour but up in the village.
When we turned round, the sun was a finger over the horizon. So we waited. And while we waited, we talked to an old old man who decided we were french and told us about his life in France. In french (we do speak french!). We met a cat.
And then we left.
See you tomorrow!