10 Days in the Algarve

The first three days were spent waiting for my flight out, to attend my sons wedding.
The next 7 were spent pushing kicking spitting and cursing as I moved the bike slowly along the coat from agos to the Spanish border.
I arrived in Faro and stayed the night waiting to collect the cylinder head before setting off to Lagos and hopefully get the bike going again.
My hostel had let me down and in the process of finding the alternative I came across the bar Copenhaga owned and run by Sergio.

Sergio was great and a lovely man, as I only asked him directions and he just jumped in his car and took me round there.

The alternative wasn't and I finished up spending a wonderful evening with the locals there watching Portugal thrash Spain. I was taken aback when Sergio came out and presented me with a glass tankard and we became good friends. I spent the night roughing it without a sleeping bag, which was in Lagos, but the following morning I had breakfast at Sergios and collected my cylinder head and left to get the bus back to Lagos

I

Arrived Lagos and had to hang around waiting for Walter to surface to allow me access to the bike.

I replaced the head and tried to get the bike going without success.
I replaced the condensor and had to have that soldered up by the local Renault garage who did it for free..
It still took me a whole day to get a spark going.
I set off at last on the Saturday heading for Carvoeiro to watch the match. I got it as far as Portimao where it refused to go any further. I finished up pushing it the 12 Km to Carvoeiro but amazingly arrived right on kick off.

Found Sarahs Joker bar where I was treated very well with a few cheapies.

The following day being Sunday I decided there was no point trying to get it going as I wouldn't be able to get parts, so went off to the beach and had a bath and a few hours of sun. I spent the evening at Sarahs bar but on returning to my bike someone had stolen my crash helmet.
I was concerned about sleeoping there but a stray dog had followed me to the bike and as soon as I settled down the dog lay down at my side and stayed the whole night.
The following day I moved down to the front where I stripped the bike down and made an improvised test lamp with a torch and set about testing all components. I got the bike going to rapturous applause from the waiters in the bars one of whom went home and found a spare helmet. Old but legal pudding bowl type.
Off I went again to Faro and met up the following day at Sergio's the bar owner who I had befriended when I returned to Faro.
The morning was heavy rain so I sat it out till it stopped and set off for Spain. 8 kms as far as the bike went where it broke down at Olnao. I spent the evening to discover a wire had stripped in the magneto. The following morning I took it to an auto electrrician and had a new wire soldered. No joy as I tried and so too did every Portugese moped owner to get it running. I tested everything again and then found wo problems. The points must have had a meltdown when it overheated in Sagres and had twisted and were not in line, and the wire was only connected by two thin strands of copper wire. Another night and another trip to the auto electrician. then I was off to Spain.
I arrived in Ayamonte by the short ferry trip across the river at the border and a shelter on the river side awaited me.

Maybe not a Virgen but a Saint none the less