Fat Tyres, Thin Plans: 6 Days Riding the Rota Vicentina in Winter

Portugal's Rota Vicentina is one of Europe's finest coastal trails — but what's it like to cycle it in the dead of winter? Our good friend John found out as he swapped the summer crowds for storm fronts, deserted terraces, and empty gravel paths as he rode the length of Portugal's Atlantic coast over six days, from Faro to Lisbon. Along the way he tackled brutal climbs, outraced tides, befriended strangers at a New Year's gala, and fell in love with a mystery girl. This is his ride report!

Table of Contents

• Fat is where it's at
• Day 1 — Faro to Carvoeiro
• Day 2 — Carvoeiro to Sagres
• Day 3 — Sagres to Aljezur
• Day 4 — Aljezur to Vila Nova de Milfontes
• Day 5 — Vila Nova de Milfontes to Costa de Santo André
  • The Repsol New Year's Eve (A Flashback)
  • This Year: Redemption
  • The Party
  • Mystery Girl
• Day 6 — Costa de Santo André to Lisboa
• What's Next?

Fat is where it's at

I absolutely love this route, it's got something for everyone and can be tailored and tweaked to however you want. Short on time, keep on the tarmac – plenty of time, hit the trails; the best option is to mix it all up and I had the fast-rolling Kona 29MTB the perfect foil! To quote a passing cyclist I met one year: "fat is where it's at." He was pointing at the tyres then, a few years later it's anyone's guess.

I used to call this route the Caminho da Espuma. As a young lad holidaying in the Algarve main resorts there wasn't a night when I wasn't blasted off my clubbing feet by a foam cannon – from Monte Gordo to Carvoeiro, Praia de Rocha, Albufeira, Alvor and Lagos, the Algarve seemed to be drowning in foam parties. It was always a bit bizarre cycling through the once-packed resorts, now chlorinated and quiet.

Thankfully the only foam I now see is when shaving, and whilst this route does skirt the main conurbations, those wider tyres can take you places far from the crowds. And of course, cycling off season makes it even more appealing.

Day 1 — Faro to Carvoeiro

I woke up in my familiar hotel to an unfamiliar sound. It had been a long day yesterday – Newcastle to Amsterdam to Faro – but as I got my bearings it was an "oh no" as I slid open the patio doors: palm trees at 45 degrees, torrential rain, and advertising hoardings and fascias rattling like crazy in the strong wind. And it was cold.

After breakfast I set up the bike and took it outside reception for the final touches. The sideways rain immediately riled me and put me off the six days riding ahead. What should have been a proper and thorough check turned into a 'that'll do' – tyre pressures, pannier ties, top bag, bungees close enough to get through the day. That'll do.

An Aer Lingus plane came into land but held itself at around 500ft and flew right over Faro Airport, not attempting to land this time around. Luckily as I turned west for the first time, the wind was at my back.

At the hiking area Passadiços de Loulé there is a lovely boardwalk skirting the lagoon, but it was treacherously slippy. So with a re-route on the quiet roads it was head down heading west to Quarteira. A collapsed path meant a few hundred metres on the beach and then onto the boulevard to Vilamoura.

A break in the weather allowed me some time to call home and readjust the bike and bags, but it wasn't long before the heavens opened on the soggy stretch to Armação de Pêra. In all my years of riding here it's the first time I've seen the outside terrace at Pastelaria Fortaleza totally deserted.

I arrived at Carvoeiro and popped in to see friends at Algar Seco resort and realised I was shivering with the cold. I've been caught in many a shower in Portugal – we all have – but there was a real chill; my Gorewear jacket was doing well but my shorts were soaked through and my boots were just full of rainwater and my feet were numb.

In the hotel my main aim was to turn on the air-conditioning to maximum heat and find that magical zone of optimal warmth. It meant balancing chairs on tables and manoeuvring the room to strategically position my gear to get dry. It looked like rubbish tetris.

Remember to bring with you a spare 'hotel card' for the room power – if you know, you know!

Day 2 — Carvoeiro to Sagres

I woke to a ridiculously warm room that didn't smell that welcoming either. My boots were hardly touched by my subtropical jet stream – where's a radiator when you need one?

I opened the patio doors to a black morning sky and torrential rain, gushing down the steep Carvoeiro street. The receptionist checked the weather and it looked promising for the afternoon – great news!

After saying my goodbyes and climbing up towards Ferragudo in awful rain, I stopped to take in the vista west to Lagos and beyond and it did look a lot more welcoming. This section has a lot more off-road segments and I didn't want to change the route because of waterlogged fields or slippy rocky sections.

At Portimão, quicker than expected, the weather broke and out came the sunshine. I cycled along the promenade at Praia de Rocha taking photos and saying hello to passing cyclists as everyone's mood was visibly lifted – music on and jacket off. Alvor was gorgeous as always in the sunshine and it was time for a section I had only just discovered.

Before reaching the Skydive Airport I cut over a dam and onto a single-track section flanked by the River Torre on both sides. Popular with hikers, not bikers, it's no challenge at all for skilled MTB riders – but I'm a little more cautious and didn't fancy a comedy roll into the waters. I had loads of foot-faults and my boots were completely full of clarts; the rain had left the route incredibly boggy and difficult to get any traction.

From Alvor it was tarmac to Odiáxere, feet drying out nicely with their new terracotta mud, and it was a lovely ride on the popular cycle route into Lagos.

Last year it was the stunning route to the viewpoint at Praia da Luz following the Rota hiking route along the cliff tops, but this included a terrifying descent into Luz. This year I stayed on the road for a rapid ride into Burgau and a coffee and sandwich in the sun at the fantastic Lokal Padaria.

Shortly after Burgau the climb gave me a lovely view of the Praia da Boca do Rio and a popular off-road gravel section brought me to the pretty town of Salema. The climb out of Salema does register at 16% and the last two times I've had to walk the last section. I'd fancy my chances on an unloaded bike! I met a couple walking downhill who mentioned they always got an Uber back!

Between Burgau and Sagres are three secluded coves – Zavial, Ingrina, and Barranco – which are worth a visit, but with time against me and the rains leaving a lot of waterlogging, I joined the N125 and cycled west into the sun. The 125 at this section has a wide hard shoulder and is very popular with road cyclists. There's even a parallel road if you want to get off the main highway, but I used the tailwind to the max and tore into Bispo for the dedicated bike path to Sagres.

Day 3 — Sagres to Aljezur

A beautiful day's ride north!

From Sagres it was a short hop to the 'end of the world' – Cabo de São Vicente Lighthouse. It was far from 'end of the world' weather though and I stripped down to my t-shirt and made my bragging calls home "in the heatwave." The scattering of tourists in full winter-warmer puffa jackets didn't phase me (I'm from the North East of England man, haway!) as I picked up my cross-country route through the expansive meadows.

If you've got some time, explore the area – the fort and clifftop routes are amazing.

With the sun on my back it was a lovely loop to Bispo, talking to a few hikers and trying to bunny-hop the puddles (massive fail). Note to self: this off-road section could be extended even further.

From Bispo it was tarmac for 10km then back off road on a fab gravel section to Praia do Amado. Sadly the beachfront café was closed and I felt a little apprehensive – there was a big climb coming up and I had no hydration whatsoever. Nonetheless it was a gorgeous ride to Praia da Bordeira where it did get a bit busy swerving the campervans double and treble parked.

Back on the N268 it was a few km, then left-left-left onto the gravel path and back onto the Rota Vicentina proper. The small river had burst its banks and it was a 'feet-up' job to get through – no problems with enough speed – and I climbed up to the farmstead with numerous chained-up mangey dogs that thankfully can't be bothered to run, just bark.

It's another 16% climb after the farm. I was determined to make it all the way but I didn't quite get there. I remembered I had a soaked half-packet of Minto's, so took the time to peel them apart and re-energise for the last 100 metres. Back in the saddle and at that moment a car came round the corner with the occupants enthusiastically shouting "allez! allez!"

Cheers lads, of course I've cycled all the way non-stop. Honest.

With the hardest part over, the undulating gravel path was busy with hikers and group cyclists enjoying the serenity and glistening ocean view. It's always nice to stop and say hello and swap stories… how come none are going in my direction? They've got it easy with that 16% descent!

My second pit-stop for a drink was also closed for the day – if this was high season I would be in a bit of a tight spot, but luckily it wasn't far to go. Leaving the gravel path I rejoined the 268 for a rapid 10km ride downhill into Aljezur. The Rota does continue off road but I feel rejoining the carriageway at Chabouco gives a good balance of surface v time. Maybe one day I'll stay all off road.

The only obstacle at Aljezur was a gully that was flooded (on Google Maps it's bone dry!) but thankfully a new-ish footbridge over the water hinted that it was nothing new.

My first pint at Aljezur was amazing! Allez!

Day 4 — Aljezur to Vila Nova de Milfontes

It was all on road today, with a 17% climb to look forward to.

Heading north from Aljezur I stopped at my usual resting place to lose some clothing after a fresh crisp morning climb to Rogil, then downhill to Odeceixe, over the Ribeira de Seixe, and… welcome to Alentejo!

The N120 doesn't have a hard shoulder but traffic was light, as always, and it was only 5km or so before I turned off towards the coast and Praia do Carvalhal. Just before the descent to the beach I made sure to say hello to the ostriches!

I spoke to a Finnish couple who were vanning in the area before the big climb from the secluded beach, hitting the 17%'er. It's stirring stuff but at only 300 metres in length it's totally winnable. With nobody around I wobbled and weaved my way to the top, not caring what I looked or sounded like.

Levelling out, it's a nice ride past all the blueberry greenhouses to Zambujeira do Mar. I met a couple of Polish motor bikers and after some forced conversation where all we talked about was 'beer / piwo', I climbed up to the church for lovely coastal views.

North of Zambujeira, just before the sharp dog-leg for all routes, I carried on for 200 metres for the most amazing views. Wow!

Zig-zagging on quiet roads to Cavaleiro and then Almograve, I stopped at O Lavrador for a coffee and, as usual, baked on the sun-trap terrace. I don't know how I resisted getting a beer, but I did!

The new bike path has now been completed from Almograve, but there is also a well-signposted hiking route heading to the same destination – a bit too sandy for bikes though. I headed through the compact streets of Longueira, smelling the delicious food from local houses, before picking up the N393 main road to Milfontes. Again there was a big hard shoulder to ride in, making it easy to stop on the Ponte de Vila Nova de Milfontes and enjoy the views over the Mira.

Shortly afterwards I was at my destination for the evening in the vibrant and welcoming town.

Day 5 — Vila Nova de Milfontes to Costa de Santo André

New Year's Eve!

After a huge buffet breakfast it was all roads north. For the first time in a long time I was chased by a dog – a huge mountain herder dog thing that had a thick chain tethered to fresh air. Luckily it gave up the chase after 20 metres or so and I was able to enjoy the beautiful sunny ride to Santo André.

It's an undulating ride on the CM1072 with a lot of cyclists out that day, enjoying a pre-party ride in the glorious weather. It was only 10km before turning off for the gravel section towards Praia do Queimado and the impressive fort and Pessegueiro Island Beach. Wishing a few German campervanners a Happy New Year, it went from tarmac to sand then sea-shore as I just about beat the tide and into Porto Covo.

I spent a few minutes cycling around Porto Covo (last year I went into the market – it was amazing) then hit the M1109, passing the countless beaches to the outskirts of Sines. There were at least a dozen oil tankers moored at sea, such is the importance of the terminal. I took my usual 'sneaky' route through the terminal buildings and into Sines, weaving in between the road markings singing my head off. The terminal is always quiet with the winter lockdown.

The Repsol New Year's Eve (A Flashback)

I have stayed in Sines a few times, but last year I stayed in Santo André and had the most bizarre New Year's Eve ever.

My hotel was asking an eye-watering amount for the main event and I really couldn't justify the outlay. I was promised via email that I could still access the bar but not the main event – fair enough – but come the night I was allowed only "1 drink" and I was asked to leave.

So at 7pm I found myself all dressed up with one place to go: Repsol. Yes, I had my own party-in-a-petrol-station at a table for one, wedged between the Superbock fridge and WD40 stand.

By throwing-out time – 9pm – I had made good friends with the attendant and bought what was left in the fridge along with some snacks for my after-petrol party. She even loaned me a posh bottle opener to bring back the next day.

Scowling at reception and the in-crowd in their cummerbunds and party frocks, I got to my room then realised I didn't have a kettle for my pot noodle. I headed back down to reception, and they begrudgingly let me use the ladies' toilets – which had a baby-change facility annex – to boil the kettle for my feast for one. Back in my room I somehow managed to eat a pot noodle with a tiny plastic fork (that's all I could find in the baby room) and sank my beers watching Star Wars in Portuguese.

This Year: Redemption

This year I was determined either to have a quiet night with nature – in bed by 9, up at 6, that type of thing – or something a bit special, if the price is right. And special it was!

I cycled around Sines on the great cycle paths then crossed over the A26-1 motorway and finally got a 'beep beep' from a passing trucker (if you know, you know) and at Santo André popped into the Repsol garage where the lady recognised me and we had a good laugh about last year. Don't worry, I already returned the bottle opener!

But this year I did have something planned. I cycled a few kilometres north to Aldeia de Brescos and had a beer at the absolutely rammed Café Arsénio before freewheeling to the Hilton Hotel, Costa de Santo André. It was 5pm and the rosy winter sun was beginning to set.

The Hilton only opened in July and emailed me the details for their NYE party, which was very reasonably priced. I was met with open arms and I must say it's probably one of the best customer service experiences ever, unlike the coldness last year. "Welcome John, how was the ride John" – I wasn't pushed along despite the fact I was in my scruffy cycling gear. Just lovely. And my room – wow.

The Party

I had asked for my table at the main event to be a bit inconspicuous, known as the Capone Chair – on the edge, able to see everyone and everything. Not because I was expecting any mob activity, but because I'd probably make a fool of myself eating an oyster, use the wrong cutlery, or god forbid get singled out by a singer or hypnotist. But tonight I was safe – nothing more than an '80s theme' party.

Everyone looked very smart and the only 80s theme 'costume' I saw was a man dressed up as Woody from Toy Story. I googled to find out the film didn't come out until 1995 – so maybe he was a real cowboy? Was I actually right in getting the Capone Chair?

One course into seven and I was quickly adopted by Luis and his extended family and spent the night in wonderful company. "You are English, come and join us, you should not be alone." I had probably used the wrong fork with my octopus and given it away. His extended family and friends all bunched up to squeeze me in and we spent the night eating, drinking, and laughing.

Mystery Girl

But I had also noticed someone else that night, a little earlier at the bar, and it was love at first sight. I had no idea who she was, but she was with her family and looked stunning – and it had nothing to do with the free bar or oysters.

Could I get past my stand-offishness and shyness to say hello? Would I be penning a happy-ever-after diary?

Alas, I guess it wasn't meant to be. It's a family occasion after all, and I didn't speak to her because the moment didn't arise. If only it had been a foam party…

At 02:30 I remember dancing to Elton John and Kiki Dee – "Don't Go Breaking My Heart" – quite apt really, as I retired to my room when Luis and his family went looking for another bar open until 05:00.

But I was to see her one more time.

Day 6 — Costa de Santo André to Lisboa

I was the first down for breakfast at 07:00 and, unsurprisingly, a little worse for wear. Two visits to the buffet breakfast, I maxed out on the most amazing sausages and got myself ready for the longest ride of the tour – which included two ferries.

As I was checking out I crossed paths with my mystery girl, who had been out for a jog. "Feliz ano novo," I managed. She smiled and walked to the lifts.

And that, was that.

Whether I was love-struck, still drunk, or fuelled by sausage – or all three – I managed my highest average speed as I bombed towards the Comporta cut-off point for the 1pm ferry. Head down, no-frills cycling. There was no time for any breaks or photo stops and I picked up the pace along the Tróia peninsula to the ferry landing for the trip to Setúbal.

Last year I had an extra day so went to Sesimbra – it was the most crazy of New Year's Day rides, both getting in and getting out. This year it was straight to Montijo for the second ferry of the day. I had picked a new route and it worked out very well, avoiding a tricky roundabout adjoining the A2. Catching the first ferry at 1pm meant I had four hours to cover the 30km and I ambled through Palmela Gare and Pinhal Novo with a couple of coffee breaks on the way.

I made it to Montijo bang on time for the short trip across the Tagus and a few km later I was at my hotel for two days in Lisboa – and the end of my trip.

What's Next?

This summer I will be cycling in Poland, with no plans for the winter as of yet. Maybe I'll do another Rota Vicentina ride and maybe she will be there again at Costa de Santo André. Who knows what 2026/27 will bring.

To infinity and beyond, as they say in Melides!

A little Bonus - John's Route Maps