There are two separate recorded rides for this day. I turned off my computer for the afternoon ferry crossing. The first ride ended at Troia, the embarkation point for the ferry to Setúbal and the second started where I disembarked in Setúbal.

I'd seen small trucks carrying loads of this material, and trees with their bark removed up to a height of around four metres. I had no idea what it was, also noticing it in drying piles like this one. I finally decided it must be cork.

I was now riding north on a narrow peninsula. A long, straight paved road, more traffic, and With rice paddy fields alongside. The Atlantic is on the far side of the sand dunes, to the west.

And, still, storks aplenty.

And then I was at the ferry across towards Lisboa.

A couple of friendly people at the gate took my money for the ferry – 5.40€ for myself and 5.40€ for my bike – and I followed the road to the pier. The ferry arrived after fifteen or so minutes and I rolled on.

A short crossing and then a roll off to Setúbal. Accommodation seemed neither economical nor close so I decided to press on in the direction of Lisboa. A stiff pull up a hill, on a road busier than I would have like, over the bay and I rested at a pullout to refuel on bread and cheese. Always bread and cheese!

Then steep downhill and off on a quieter narrow side road

You can see the results of harvest the cork from the lower trunk and branches of these trees.

The last part of the day was hard going. But I made it to accommadation in a built up suburb south of Lisboa. I wasn't sure I'd found the right place; it looked just like an ordinary residence. Which it was. A man and his daughter welcomed me into a room in their house, leaving the bike padlocked to a railing outside. It all felt a little strange but I had a shower, paid to man for laundry and set of in search of dinner. The restaurant the man suggested was closed (Monday?) and I ended up walking quite a long way to find food.

110 metres high, inspired by the Christ the Redeemer statue in Rio de Janeiro, built as a plea to God to release Portugal from entering World War II.

Another day, another ferry. But this was a short stretch of water to cross.

I made my way to Lisbon Cathedral, paid my entrance fee, got my pilgrim's passport stamped and had a quick look around. I didn't want to spend to long as my bike was locked to a railing outside, with panniers and the rest accessible.

Then it was time to leave the capital and head for quieter scenes. Rural escape was not quite immediate.

And then there were Camino signs to welcome me along the route.