Before leaving we decide to spend a while exploring Alcacer do Sal, the 'do Sal'part of its name coming from its history of salt trading. We cross the steel -girder bridge and amble along the side of the Sado river. The town is old. In fact human settlements here have been dated back to the Mesolithic period 40,000 years ago through the copper and iron ages and more recently African slavery. Buildings have wrought iron balconies and small windows, and most are painted white with coloured decoration or ceramic tiles.

Around the back street are shops selling almost anything, but some have no windows, just an open door into a dark recess where there may be fresh fish, washing machines, vetinary supplies or hardware to name a few. Of those with window displays it is hard to decide if some are second hand bric-a-brac or just have lots of old porcelain and silverware for sale. We buy a few bits from the bakers and head back past the derelict art deco cinema to the tourist info centre where we try to find out about the toll roads, but the lady doesn't quite understand our questions.

The labradoodle is being serviced by a big retriever as we leave the car park at 12:30 towards Lisbon.

Oh, Joy! The road is long, straight and smooth for miles as we pass yet more cork trees, many of which have recently been stripped up the first 8 or ten feet, leaving a smooth rusty trunk with the natural elephant-skin effect still covering the branches. Another unusual sight, and a change from storks, is a huge ostrich farm, the big birds running freely in an enormous field beside the road.

We drive through busy Setubal and then get dizzy driving up three parts of a four-leaf clover intersection as we climb up past the statue of Christ the Redeemer to the toll booths on the monstrous Salazar bridge. We queue and pay then merge into the right hand lane as we set out over the River Tagus. The steel gratings hum under the tyres, a sound we've heard before passing underneath on a cruise ship. The red-oxide structure towers all around us, and below we can clearly see the cruise terminal. Adding to our memories, m.v. Funchal is alongside, just as she was on our first visit here in 2000.

We start our descent into busy Lisbon and crawl a couple of miles until we are on the main road past the Monument to the Discoveries and the Belem Tower. All four of us have seen them close up in the past so we are content with a slow drive-by today.

The road continues along the shoreline through Estoril and Cascais, much busier than we recall from our previous visits, until we are approaching Cabo da Roca, western-most point of Europe. We find the camper stop on the beach 100 metres from the raging Atlantic surf.

Since we've missed out on any fat-boy breakfasts in the mornings, we have one for supper tonight.

If only we'd picked up some ostrich eggs...