Right and left of the road we see imposing castles and tiny villages with a huge church. Portalegre is slightly larger and also surrounded by a fairly intact city wall. But why the city is called “the stronghold of the Portuguese Baroque”, is hidden from us. Everything looks a bit run down, even the cathedral. Of course, I only take pictures of the nicer corners.
Soon we are across the Spanish border. The watches are set forward again for one hour. We spend the night at an almost empty reservoir.