From Spain to Portugal
The next morning we were underway by 0700. With a brisk dawn breeze coming down from Vigo we were able to quickly make our way out of the Ría, under the Islas Cíes and their high peaks and out into the open ocean.
Morning light on the Islas Cíes.
Here, where a welcoming blue sea awaited us, the wind promptly died, along with the shades of the early morning light, and it became necessary to crank up the iron genoa in order to make way south. Over the course of the morning the engine went on and off and the sails in and out along with the vagaries of the breeze that blew down off the range that ran along the coastline. Eventually, however, the breeze filled in and stayed with us and we were able to leave the sails out.
One of the last lighthouses in Spain, before we entered Portugal.
Arriving in Portugal
As the morning progressed the coastal range grew slowly smaller and ever more distant from the coast. Until, by the time we had reached the Portuguese border at the Rio Miño, they had receded well back from the coast and appeared as just hazy outlines on the horizon.
New country, new courtesy flag.
Meanwhile the coast along which we were sailing went from a rocky and steep affair with occasional towns to low dunes interspersed with towns and resorts; with the former becoming ever less common and the latter ever more dominant as we progressed further south towards Porto.
Our first Portuguese city
The city of Porto rose up on us late in the afternoon, first as a massive port and industrial area and then, once we had cleared that, as a series of beachside neighbourhoods.
The very futuristic-looking cruise terminal at Porto Leixões, just to the north of Porto.
Dolphins joined us for a short while as we entered the Rio Douro and made our way towards the harbour at Afurada. Despite the strong current running in the river, the entrance to the harbour and to our berth proved relatively easy. Phew.
