Coimbra – Avairo – Porto: 121 km

Coimbra to Porto takes me two days. I stop in Avairo. Another beautiful and friendly town, the kind of town I’ve gotten used to here in Portugal. But my mind is already in Porto. I’m meeting Jan. He sent me off all the way at the beginning of this adventure, about 9 months ago. He came with me from Utrecht to Luxembourg. Pretty impressive for a non-cyclist. Now he’s here again. Jan is the bookend to the shelf of stories of my European adventure. I’ll be leaving Europe soon. A plan is ready, my mind is set. But more on that later in this story.

Jan however, has long covid. For a while it has been uncertain if he could make it. A week ago he told me he wouldn’t, then changed his mind. Well, the doctors changed his mind. “Don’t cancel everything fun!”, was their advice. And now he’s sitting right in front of me at a café next to the Casa da Música. He tells me we have to be careful. He might be out of breath as we walk through town, we have to take it slow. That’s basically what I always do when I’m not riding my bike. Seems like a perfect deal.

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I adore Jan. I feel comfortable with him. I feel taken seriously, and I feel I can tell him anything. He’s a thinker, an overthinker sometimes. But that’s what I find interesting. I tend to act on feelings. Whenever something feels good; continue. Whenever something feels wrong, stop it. Why it feels the way it does, oftentimes I do not think about. Jan does. And he arrives at places within himself, or situational, that I have a hard time to get to. His perspectives on situations and life make me re-evaluate my own processes. Long story short, I like hanging out with him and I’m happy he’s here.

We do what people do when they go to a place for a weekend. We walk around and orient ourselves. We stroll around town, try the local legendary dishes (Pastel de Nata, Francesinha, and of course, have a port tasting at one of the many, many port houses on the other side of the river. We visit a museum. But by far we spend most of our time in the parks. Everybody, locals and tourists alike, are spending their time there, drinking beers from nearby shops and restaurants, overlooking the impressive bridges over the Douro while musicians play their covers in the background. As we look out over the city, the sky changing from a stark blue to a deep dark black, we have conversations that I haven’t had in a while with all the new people I meet. It’s a perfect weekend, and it feels like the end of this chapter of my travels.

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The same day Jan leaves, Marijn arrives. He brings with him the start of something new and something incredibly exciting. Cycling around Turkey, not sure what to do or where to go with the closed borders in the Middle East and South East Asia, I called Marijn. I asked him if he was up for something big. If he wanted to cycle the America’s with me. He was somewhat flabbergasted. To be fair, it’s a big plan. One that requires you to quit your job, leave your home and security. But I heard elation in his voice. He had to think about it. Marijn and me have been on shorter cycling adventures together, so I know it would work out. But I also knew he had some money saved up and wasn’t quite happy with his job. But most importantly, I like Marijn. Since that call, I sent him pictures or texts, making him a little jealous of my life on the bike. Then, I was in Barcelona, I got the call; “I quit my job, I cancelled my rent, let’s go!”

I just came back from the grocery store when I see a heavily packed cyclist coming my way. It can only be Marijn. We start shouting at each other over the busy street and hug when we’re close enough. We spend an insignificant day in Porto because our minds are on Canada. CANADA. We’re flying from Madrid – yes, it’s not the most logical thing to do but it involves a plan with some friends who would’ve joined us but eventually couldn’t – and even though we have a good two weeks to get there and see some of Europe’s most beautiful roads and scenery, we’re exclusively talking and fantasising about our time across the ocean. But first: Porto to Madrid.