– in a low slung coupe when the track turns crap because you will do some serious damage to the underside and it may not be covered by insurance.

More on that later…

What is it about the Portuguese people that makes them so friendly, so gracious, so welcoming.

Jennifer and I were frazzled when we arrived at Villa ‘d Arcos – a beautiful little family run hotel on the outskirts of the small township of Arcos.

The hotel is right smack bang on the Camino – pilgrims walk right past the front door – although they are very scant on this part of the Portuguese Way this time of the year, it seems. Today, we did not see one pilgrim between Vila do Conde and Barcelos.

The hotel has only five rooms, and because we were the only guests last night, we were upgraded to a suite. I’ll write more about our time there on the Road Food blog – (http://www.billsroadfood.com) – but I’ll just say here that last night has to rate as one of the best nights I’ve ever spent on the road, period.

After a breakfast of fresh fruit salad, freshly squeezed orange juice, cold hams and cheeses, and some much needed coffee, Jennifer and I headed off to Vila do Conde.

Yesterday at Porto airport the Hertz guy kindly upgraded me to a Renault 208CC coupe.  Seems like right at the moment I’m carrying an energetic bubble over my head saying UPGRADE ME, UPGRADE ME.

I’m not fussed about coupes. I think they’re stupid. I can’t see the need for them. In the pouring rain yesterday the Hertz guy showed me in painstaking detail how to take the top down on this car.

“In case the sun comes out,” he said optimistically. “And you want wind in your hair.”

I told him I didn’t want wind in my hair. It didn’t suit me. If I get wind in my hair it might blow all my hair off my head. I said I didn’t want to return the car in a week, wearing a rug.

Undaunted, and with the rain soaking us both, he explained that if I wanted to take the top down, then I couldn’t have any luggage in the trunk.

Given that we’re traveling with luggage, and there’s no room in the backseat in this stupid car to store luggage, (or at least only enough room for someone who has recently been to Afghanistan and trodden on a landmine,) I again told him that I didn’t think I would be taking the top down.

(I should state here that Jennifer has told me quite emphatically that if I keep this reference to a legless war veteran from Afghanistan, then she is having nothing further to do with this blog.)

Anyway, I didn’t like this coupe. To sit behind the wheel you had to drop down into it. I don’t believe you should have to either drop down into a car or climb up into a car. Both are undignified. You should just get into a car.

This is why I hate 4WDs. You have to climb up into them. There are other reasons why I hate 4WDs too – one being that if you back out of your driveway and you accidently run over your child, then the poor little bugger is only good for stock. Or pet food. But if you’re driving a smaller car, then you’ve probably only just dented the little tyke.

Back to Portugal…

Our plan on this trip is to follow the Camino from Porto up to Santiago, and to find suitable hotels for the tour, good restaurants, and see what sections of the route might prove problematic for our pilgrims.

The first night’s stay on the tour will be in Vila do Conde, a beautiful town on the coast – so that’s where we went.

As it turned out the weekly markets were in full swing, so we wandered through, looking at the various stalls selling clothing, cooking utensils, fruit and vegetables, pastries and bread, and all manner of nick-naks.

There was a stall selling dried cod – the fish having come from Norway. And I marveled at the fruit and vegetables. They looked real. They looked like they’d been grown in a garden, not genetically modified in a laboratory and buffed up to look good in a supermarket display.

We then had coffee and a pastry made of hazelnut meringue, with orange jam inside. Along with the two coffees – a latte and a cappuccino – the bill came to €2.70. I’d forgotten how cheap Portugal is.

We then went to the Information Office, found out which was the best hotel in town, walked there and checked out the rooms, and made a note that this is where we would all stay the first night out from Porto.

We then made our way down to the water. The town sits on an inlet, and high on a hill is a magnificent monastery. At the base of the hill are a line of shops and restaurants, and it was outside one of these that I saw a man huddled over a smoking barbeque.

We walked up and I saw that he was barbequing pork ribs. So we walked in and ordered lunch. Again, I’ll detail this in the Road Food blog, but the ribs were part of the set lunch menu. And needless to say, they were delicious.

I talked to the manager of the restaurant, and made arrangements for us to have dinner there when we return on the tour on April 6^th.

Then we headed off to Barcelos, which is to be our 2^nd night stop-over.

Jennifer and I stayed in Barcelos in May of this year, and we discovered an amazing Portuguese Grilled Chicken restaurant. Just like Bresse in France, Barcelos is famous for its chickens. Which means this restaurant has to have the best Portuguese Grilled Chicken in the world.

We’re eating there in a few hours.

However, let me take you back to the lengthy title of this post.

I wanted to follow all the yellow arrows to see what the route was like – yet I’d forgotten that I was in a car this time, and not on foot. So when the yellow arrows directed me off the tar and onto a muddy and rock strewn track, I was determined to keep following.

Did I say how much I love 4WDs for their high clearance?

This stupid coupe was so low to the ground it would bump its belly on a snail if you drove over it.

Against Jennifer’s protestations, which quickly transitioned into panicked shrieks and then involuntary gasping, I gunned this car along this impassable track.

Earlier this year, nothing stopped me walking the Camino Frances, and today nothing was going to stop me driving the Camino Portuguese.  It was only when I hit a rock and heard a horrible metallic crunching from underneath that I finally did stop.

Oh yes, and it was hard driving with Jennifer pummeling me with her fists.

I’d just got through a section that would have stopped some drivers on the Dakar rally. But up ahead the track dropped steeply. It was muddy and rocky. There was no way this stupid girly car could make that drop.

(By the way, Jennifer has said that if I use the word “girly” in this context, she will have nothing further to do with this blog.)

So I did a U turn – which meant renegotiating the Dakar Rally section again. I handed Jennifer her Kindle and asked her to look up Barcelos Hotels in the Lonely Planet Guide to Portugal.

So she was otherwise occupied when I gunned this stupid girl car back over that part of the track, this time neatly missing that miscreant rock which most probably had cracked the diff.

We got through it, and arrived in Barcelos, the car covered in mud.

Here’s the thing – if I return the car to Hertz covered in mud, then they’ll put it on a hoist and do a full check of the vehicle, including the underside. They’re bastards like that.

But if I get the car washed and return it sparkling clean, then it’ll probably be three or four rentals before the engine seizes. And they’ll never trace it back to me.

Unless one of you tells them!

Just remember, I have PGS. I will know which of you has dobbed me in…