I stopped in at a supermarket in Comporta. Right then another bike packer named Nicola and his dog Dalton rolled up. He asked about my bike and we started chatting about bike packing. He told me he’d been bike packing for the last 3 years in Portugal and Spain.
I was immediately intrigued because it was my first day bike camping and I was nervous about where I’d wind up sleeping that night. I decided, “Hey this is my first day, do something crazy.” So I asked him if I could pitch tent at his camp that night. He said sure, and we rolled over.
As I was setting up my tent Nicola offered me a beer. He said he got a lot of food and drinks from the “recycled food” area at grocery stores. He showed me six pack of beer and a 5 gallon bag of red wine. I was impressed with how resourceful he was. The beer tasted just fine too.
Nicola was living simplest life of anyone I’d ever met. All he owned was with him at that camp. Just him and Dalton, riding around, free camping wherever. He didn’t have a job, phone, watch, street or email address. There is no way to contact him. He said he calls his mom about once a week using strangers cell phones. He doesn’t use any maps; he just asked locals about how to get to the next town and what’s there.
I asked him what he did for money. He said he had 5€ total at that point. When he needs money he makes crafts out of things he finds on the beach and tries to sell them. Or he goes to the supermarket and returns carts for tips for a day and he’s set for a while. There was no hint of yearning. He didn’t want a bigger lifestyle. He was content getting just enough as he goes.
The next day we had coffee at the beach and I headed further south. Nicola and Dalton go at a pretty slow pace because Dalton runs while Nicola rides. (that’s right, Dalton is a badass dog)
The next day I thought a lot about the difference between me and Nicola and a homeless person. I felt so spoiled with all my cycling gear. Maybe Nicola is homeless, but he is happy.
