A Fiery Ride and a Feast in Chaves
I pointed my motorcycle towards Chaves, expecting a pleasant ride through the Spanish and Portuguese countryside. While the scenery was perfectly nice, it was ultimately unremarkable. It quickly became clear that the real story of this leg of the journey was not going to be about the views. It was going to be about surviving the heat.
The heat was just brutal. A thick, soupy humidity hung in the air, turning every moment inside my gear into a personal sauna. I had to stop constantly, seeking any small patch of shade just to catch my breath and let the heat radiating from the engine dissipate a little. At some point, the wind stopped being a friend. Instead of cooling me down, it felt like a blast furnace. I found it was actually more comfortable to zip up my jacket and close my helmet’s visor, creating a small bubble to shield myself from the oppressive, hot air.
Staying hydrated turned into a desperate battle. I started the day with a full three liter water bladder and even stopped to buy cold drinks along the way, but it wasn’t enough. I could feel myself sweating constantly, and my water supply dwindled at an alarming rate. The last bit of water in my bladder grew warmer with every kilometer. Drinking it was not refreshing anymore; it was a purely functional act of trying to replace the fluids I was losing so rapidly.
Pulling into Chaves felt like crossing a finish line. I was exhausted and parched. I circled my hotel, confused about where to park, until a friendly employee on a smoke break spotted my predicament. He smiled and pointed me towards the parking area hidden behind the building. That small act of kindness was the first wave of a massive sense of relief.
The absolute highlight of the day, and maybe one of the highlights of my trip so far, came that evening at the hotel’s restaurant. When the staff handed me the menu, they leaned in and strongly suggested I try the daily special: cod cooked in the traditional local style. I am so glad I listened. It was absolutely divine. I am not sure I have ever had a better fish dish in my life. It was perfectly cooked, flavorful, and just melted in my mouth. The meal was paired with a bottle of the very tasty house red wine. Just when I thought it could not get any better, after a wonderful mango dessert, the waiter brought over a glass of Port wine, on the house.
It was the perfect ending to an incredible dinner. As I headed up to my room, I felt slightly tipsy, incredibly stuffed, and completely satisfied. The grueling, fiery ride to get there had been completely forgotten, replaced by the memory of a truly perfect meal. Sometimes the toughest days lead to the best rewards.