I’ve never really known what to do with myself over the Christmas holidays. Society forcing me to do something just makes me want to do the opposite — that’s how my brain works. A few years ago, I celebrated by doing 46 laps of Regent’s Park (200 km), fixed gear, in freezing temperatures. This year felt marginally more sensible: a three-day bikepacking trip through Alentejo and the Algarve.
Day 1: Tróia to Sagres
The classic route down the Portuguese coast (200 km, 1,600 m). I followed what seems to be the most common option and can confidently say I won’t do it again. It’s optimized for speed rather than scenery — a reminder that cyclists cannot be trusted with route planning…
On a different note, it’s genuinely depressing to see how much new construction is swallowing Tróia. Endless developments. When does it stop?
Day 2: Sagres to Monchique
I’d visited Monchique a few years ago with my mum and was excited to return. Often called the “garden of the Algarve,” it’s known for its green landscapes, dense eucalyptus and pine forests, and streams — a welcome contrast to the coast. The highest peak, Fóia (902 m), offers wide views all the way to the ocean.
It was a relatively short day: 94 km with 2,000 m of elevation — my idea of a Christmas celebration. Fueling off cheese sandwiches was impossible on the day sadly, as every café and padaria was closed. Anecdotally, I’ve noticed that a grandmother will make a sandwich for you in seconds, while the younger generation will need minutes. This theory could not be tested, but please help me get to n=2. I’d like to confirm things went off track.
Day 3: Monchique to Grândola
Possibly the most beautiful day of the trip. The morning began with a descent on the northern side of Monchique, mist hovering above the treeline and karstic formations emerging from the landscape — something I’d seen in China and didn’t expect to find here.
It was cold. Colder than I’ve ever experienced in Portugal. I was badly under-equipped. There was no power in the legs, and I kept stopping just to feel my fingers again (you’ll be glad to know I still have all ten). Even my heart rate monitor passed out. My London days are clearly long gone — I’m always cold this winter.
A couple of hours in, the sun finally broke through, temperatures rose, and basic bodily functions resumed. The rest of the day was spent heading north through the rolling hills of Alentejo — terrain I love and will definitely explore more. To finish things off, Komoot kindly included a gravel section near the end, just to make sure I wouldn’t arrive too early for the train back from Grândola.
Now it’s time to rest, return to my traditional diet, and start planning Christmas 2026. I already have ideas, don’t you worry.