We leave the lovely marina location on the outskirts of Seville and drive a mile to the supermarket, where the Nicks are abandoned in the carpark for almost an hour, before joining the A-49 which will take us right into Portugal.

On the way there are many orange and lemon plantations. We cross a number large bridges over small trickles of water or completely dried river beds. There are also large areas of sand pines with carpets of yellow flowers [a bit like celandine].

We enter Portugal at about the same time as we left the supermarket due to crossing from European time back to GMT. The sun is bright and the gauge shows 19C. The landscape changes rapidly; the area we entered is more salt marshes with green grass and towns of bright white houses.

Grete guides us to two of their previous wild camping locations but both now have no-motorhome signs, so we return to Castro-Marim where we know there is an aire. It is fairly busy but we manage to park together and head into the town. As we are getting settled a group of lads comes past wheeling an ornate but dishevelled funeral cart.

Despite the number of motorhomes here, Castro Marim is off the tourist trail, but the town is charming to visit. It is dominated on two sides by a castle and a fortress. Ali and Grete abandon Nick half way up a steep, cobbled hill and take a look around the fortress walls.

Returning to the town we make our way through narrow streets set with the traditional Portuguese squared cobbles, some with black and white patterns but mostly plain. The houses are squat, single storey with low-pitch rooves, mostly painted white with brightly coloured detailing. Some have small tiled details, others are tiled across the whole facade with patterned ceramics. Many of the houses have ornate chimneys that look like miniature bell towers or Arabic lanterns.

On the way back we stop in a bar for a drink; two beers and a tonic costs a total of €3.00

Back at the aire Grete cooks fish pie for supper, which we have with a bottle of sparkling white [bought on our first day in France] to celebrate the start of our Portuguese adventure.

Around 21:00 we here a brass band blowing a poor rendition of the funeral march nearby. Nick W goes to investigate and reports back that there is some sort of mock funeral parade with the handcart we saw earlier. Nick W, Ali and Grete go to watch. The parade processes around town, playing the funeral march in different keys and different tempos, possibly in the hope that one will be nearly as the composer intended.

The only thought we can apply is that it is to do with Lent, and Nick W believes it is something to do with abstaining from sex for 40 days due to the mock priest and wedding couple and a large dildo being waved at the head of the procession.