AWW 26th April 2017: The Revolution Comes To Carrapateira

 

It was all somewhat surreal; a welcoming smile for your scribe from the Café Bravo proprietress who, in all the annals of the AWW, has never ever been known to smile before; a serenade over the morning coffee by a vision in pink who claimed to be uplifted by the spirits of Amália Rodrigues and Edith Piaf (one hestitates to suggest that some other kind of stimulant might have been her real inspiration); and then the arrival of the Lamonts, all clad in their Independence Day T-shirts, and still clutching carnations between their teeth (well, metaphorically-speaking). Somehow or other, our Leader, Antje, managed to get the group under Starter´s orders and, when all was over, to submit the following report the very same-day  – over now to Antje:

“Good Morning, Carrapateira !”  Could it be Robin Williams?

“Grey skies and a little rain forecast, not a promising start to the walk on the West Coast, but it improved. Where else  would you start  a walk with a rending of La Grândola in Portuguese followed by La Vie en Rose in French  by a local lady clad  in a cosy pink morning gown, wearing carpet slippers, and  sporting a wreath of yellow daisies on her head?  In Carrapateira, naturally. What was just as amazing was the friendly welcome "bom dia, como esta" which John H received from the owner of Café Bravo. But now to business.

 
Starters: JohnH, Janet, Manuela, JimH, Gillian, Hazel,  Antje, JimL, and David, with our 4-legged friends  Sascha and Rosie.

(plus the local Chanteuse de Carrapateira in full voice with her little dog at her feet.)

“We headed out of Carrapateira towards the beach of Bordeira,  crossed a couple of dunes and ended up on the boardwalk near to the restaurant Vista do Rio (good Caldeirada.)  We made for the Rio Bordeira but, as advertised and despite the low tide and JimL´s bridge-building efforts, it was not possible to cross dry- shoed.

Not exactly The Bridge Over The River Kwai

Boots off or plastic bags, both versions were used to cross the river and we headed towards the sea, for a short time immersed in dunes without sight of sea or land.

“At the end of the beach we took the path leading inland, through a little pine forest and then along the path towards the village of Bordeira. Some took a short cut across a meadow until it became too boggy and then joined the path.

Bordeira Street Art

“In Bordeira village the café was very busy and the consensus was to tackle the hill first before stopping for lunch, which we did after having reached the ridge. in front of a square tower. A log provided seating for most.

and now a chance to admire those T-shirts

“After that we followed  the ridge track and ignored  2 side tracks both bearing the same red/yellow markers as the one we were following.  I remembered John's previous advice to follow the electricity posts and we reached the bottom of the valley near Vilarinha and crossed a little stream by way of a concrete bridge where the dogs enjoyed a dip.

“Then an uneventful walk back to the cafe on a wide track; David  had remembered the chickens so both dogs were well leashed!
”A well-earned rest at Cafe Bravo and a generous sharing of avocadoes by Hazel and lemons by Manuela finished a lovely day.  Thank you all.”

 

And then to conclude the day as surreally as it had started, a white horse suddenly materialised by the market place. The owner had, one guesses, gone shopping in the Mini-Mercado Irene, but JimH and Janet resisted the temptation to go for a ride.

The track and the Stats:

Total distance: by popular concensus, 18.5 km

Total time :4 hrs 58 mins

Total ascent: 358 metres

Av. moving speed: 3.3 kph

Lunch break: only 17 mins

Now you really are in luck; here is your special musical bonus.

First of all, Amália Rodrigues with Grândola Vila Morena 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EDEZyFsZGbo

Then Edith Piaf with La Vie En Rose

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rzeLynj1GYM

and a version of Lady In Red

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L2zbq0QFFUk

as a wee tribute to the Chanteuse of Carrapateira.

And, finally, the obligatory quotation to keep Paulo a Pé happy:

“I remember a time when a cabbage could sell itself by being a cabbage. Nowadays it’s no good being a cabbage – unless you have an agent and pay him a commission.”  (The Madwoman of Chaillot – Jean Giraudoux.)

 

Photo credits: Antje, David, Hazel and JohnH.

Sao Marcos 19th April

AWW Sao Marcos da Serra, 19th April

or: Water, what Water?

                                         Starters: Hazel, John, Angie, Yves, Jim, Ros, Rose, 

                                         Manuela, Ingrid and Frank. DL Behind the camera.

When I sent out the notice for this walk, the temperature was in the high 20s, and I imagined a parched trail and wilting walkers. In the event, the mercury took a considerable fall overnight on Tuesday, and we had hazy sunshine and a cool wind . and the trail was NOT parched. The group was smaller than in recent weeks, with a good number otherwise engaged.

All assembled in Sao Marcos at the appointed time, having had to park in several scattered locations, as the stage for the Easter celebrations was still occupying much of the church square. Cafe Central was thankfully in business, so refreshments were taken. 

Then it was out on the road, down the hill and alongside the railway until we thankfully turned off the tarmac to wander up the long valley towards Monte Ruivo. All went well and swiftly, with Rose absolutely determined to walk the legs off everyone in the group until cries of protest slowed the pace a little. Not until the later part of this first stage did I begin to understand that we were not yet really in the dry season, when we came to a dip in the track still several inches under water. The group were surprisingly muted in their mutterings - at least within my hearing. Two individuals splashed straight through, but at this early stage most opted either for the plastic bags or bare feet.

From there to the turning point near the head of the valley there were blessedly no further water traps, and we climbed the fairly gentle slope onto the ridge separating the two valleys without further incident. No livestock up here on this occasion, but there were signs of recent bovine presence underfoot. Then we made our way into the valley,  across to Monte Ruivo and up to the IC1 crossing. Three more cautious walkers crossed via the bridge while the rest took their chances with the juggernauts.

It was after the climb away from the road that we hit water again as we turned south to head back to Sao Marcos. These crossings did have more or less dry edges, but some still insisted on the direct approach, and carried on through regardless.

Then it was lunch time, and a low grassy bank provided suitable seating, though some were a little unsure about ants - Ros sat in the middle of the track, and Angie, being new, has to serve her apprenticeship before being allowed a comfortable pew.

Onward down the long descent towards our destination, we encountered yet another water hazard, this time impassable with dry feet, as we made our way down towards the valley floor. Even more decided that the end was nigh enough to risk blisters, but Frank and I debooted and paddled through once more.

     Our VA hero dons his trusty boots once more.

There was one more stream to cross as we made our way back to the IC1 at the Sao Marcos junction, but Yves (he said) had been out early to lay stepping stones.

At the main road, I was almost decked by a white van hurtling round the corner as we once again diced with death, while the three aforementioned made the long trek round via the bridge once again. Then it was a matter of following the river towards Sao Marcos and climbing the long hill back to the start through the town - probably the steepest climb of the day. A pleasant half hour in the cafe followed, before all departed in good spirits.

           The Church, Sao Marcos da Serra.

Stats (Courtesy of John H)

Distance: 18.2 kms

Total time: 4 hrs 55 mins

Moving time: about 4 hrs 15 mins

Ascent 406 metres.

Average moving speed: 4.4 kph. (That´s what happens when ladies are allowed to take the lead.)

Lunch break: a very short 20 mins.

Track (ditto)

ATTENTION ALL WALKERS!!!!

                                        WANTED!

                                                  Unknown walker, goes under the alias

                                                  ´The Stick Tapper´. Wanted for sugar

                                                sachet rustling and banana skin kidnap.

                                                                 Large Reward.

AWW 5th April 2017: To Rocha Amarela Again

This was how the walk was advertised:-

“This will be a repeat of the Walk to the Deserted Village which was last done on 5th April 2015 and, before that, when Terry Ames led it on 6th February 2013.To remind those who were on the April 2015 version, that was the one when Janet was attacked by a wild asparagus and Linda* lost her pedometer in the bushes, Yves springing gallantly to the rescue in both instances, and when that redoubtable long-distance walker Bruce honoured us wth his presence. I cannot promise any such highlights this year but the basic parameters will be the same. Meeting Point: In Alte at the Café 100 metres up the road from the parking spot. Time: 9.30 am. The nearby Café opens at 9.00 am. Distance and likely total time: 18.5 km and 6 hours. Terrain: some tarmac in the back lanes of Alte, Julia and Benafim. Otherwise, mostly good tracks, with one short but easy off-piste. One water-crossing via broad stepping stones. No serious hills, although Ingrid may like to be forewarned that there is an ascent into Julia.”

*(Editorial:the Linda in question was “Lynne” Bromwich, not Linda Morris, just in case anybody is wondering.)

But a day or two before the appointed date, prospects were, from my point of view, looking a trifle problematic: lots and lots of ladies had signed up but only one other male and I began to wonder if Nick and I were to have the dubious pleasure of witnessing the inauguration of the AWWWs (Algarve Wednesday Women´s Walks). Yves was away following the route of Christopher Columbus into the Carribean, David L was doubtful, and the redoubtable Bruce Lygo couldn´t accept my invitation to do a repeat – Hindu Kush or Karakoram or some such excuse. Even Frank M wouldn´t be able make it, which was a pity because we were keenly anticipating hearing all about his recent Transit of the Algarve exploits; apparently he now had to take his wife shopping. (Sic Transit Gloria!)

But then matters became slightly more balanced: The two Jims signed up and then, mirabile dictu, TerryA himself came on the line promising to be there “in a consultative capacity if required.” And on the morning itself David L did arrive after all. So, that was all good. 

Early morning Alte, and the statuesque Parking Attendant was already in position, Balthazar the Donkey was ready for breakfast, and the sun was shining.

Café opened promptly at 9 a.m. and, after coffees and with the willing help from the Café staff, a Starter Photo was taken.

The Starters (left to right)

Kim, John H, Janet, Nick, Pam, Jim H, Maria, Marian, Ros, Gill, Antje, Val, Ingrid, David L, Jim L, Hazel, and Terry A.

Two well-behaved dogs were with us: Sasha and Java.

The start was only slightly delayed by the mysterious if temporary disappearance of Marian´s sunhat, and we paused at the Fontes bridge to admire some water birds and to take another group picture.

The ascent up the tarmac road into the little village of Julia was accomplished without too much complaint, a minor drawback for some hayfever sufferers being that the Camara operatives were busy strimming the grass verges as we passed by, whereas I had particularly asked them to do the work the day before, but what the heck! Some grumpy old men were spotted slumped on the public benches…….

…but they were soon replaced by a sunnier lot.

Then it was down over the main road and across the broad fertile valley before the gentle climb towards the Deserted Village. It was here that,despite the Leader´s best efforts to keep things sedate, the pace increased dramatically as first Gill L and then Jim L galloped off in front, the rest of the group drawn along in their wake.

Little wonder, therefore, that when we did reach the village, Jim collapsed onto a rock for a gasper.

This is not Terry conducting an AWW Barbers Shop Ensemble, but Terry in his consultative mode giving us a brief history of Rocha Amarela, in particular how the now-vanished inhabitants had fallen out with near-by neighbours (who had artesian wells but wouldn´t allow enemies to use them) so that the Rocha Amarela men had to trek into Alte with their donkeys to fetch water. Once there, they would sup a medronho or three, and rely on their animals, carrying them and the water, to remember the way back home.

Suitably rested and enlightened after this interlude, we swung eastwards and then back down across the valley aiming for Benafim in the distance. The pace then inexorably quickened once more and the Leader suddenly found himself about three hundred metres behind everyone else just as the track skirted a newly cleared field which was being very neatly planted with saplings. An old man could be seen in the field meticulously taking five steps along a clearly designated row in the ground and then pausing to stick a cane marker in the ground, then another five paces and another cane marker, and so on and so on. He had reached the end of the row by the track just as I was passing, so I stopped to  say “bom dia.” He came towards me with a seriously grim expression on his face and, when just a yard from me, pulled a metal object out of his pocket and pointed it at me. It wasn´t a gun nor a knife, thank goodness, but a cigarette tin. I wondered if he was offering me a fag and how I could decline the offer without offence. Then, with considerable deliberation, he took the lid off the tin and showed me what was inside.

It was his hearing aid.

Hearing aid now duly affixed to his ear, we could then exchange “bom dias” properly. He asked me if I was English or French (to which I said I was neither) and said he could speak a little French. So we had a little chat in a sort of French. He said that he had cleared the whole field himself and was planting it with almond trees. I said it looked fine work but must have been very hard. He said yes but it will be a very profitable crop. A few minutes later I caught up with the group who were kindly waiting for me. It was then a matter of crossing fields and strolling through a peach and almond plantation to find the track up the hill to Benafim, and thus avoiding the trackless Mato Grosso wilderness which had caused Janet so much grief two years previously .

 

We stopped for a good half-hour lunch break at Café Encontro where Maria adopted one of the traditions of the WAGS (the Geriatric Strollers). That group of retired or semi-retired AWWs, for those who don´t know, hold as one of their essential guiding principles that their walks must finish at an establishment that serves bifanas. Paul Vismé of that group (also the founding father of this Blog in 2006, I think, under the soubriquet of Paulo a Pé) is engaged in compiling a list of the top 10 bifana joints in the Western Algarve. His quality ratings take into account, for example, the freshness and fluidity of the mustard. Maria seems to have found a good one here. Paul, take note.

 

But one of the group had things other than food on his mind as he inspected this year´s Christmas present-to-come in the café forecourt. Gill take note.

Look at those tyres,man !

Suitably restored and refreshed, we then made our way though the back lanes of Benafim and down to the watercrossing.

The stepping stones were negotiated without too much difficulty………

……… and we tackled the long ascent on the way back to Alte. It was now getting pretty hot and I suggested that as the group had basically split into two – fast and slower – Terry should lead the fast ones and I could take refuge among the slower. Solidarity prevailed however, I was over-ruled, and as a united group (sort-of) we made it back to the start for some very welcome beers.

The Track

The Statistics  (pretty well as advertised.)

Distance: 18.5 km (leader´s count)

Total Time: 5 hours 35 mins.

Moving Time: 4 hours 20 mins (leader´s count)

Average Moving Speed: 4.3 kph

Toal Ascents: 723 metres

Lunch Stop: 37 minutes

 

Thanks to all who participated.

 

Post-script

Since reference was made earlier in this posting to the long-distance Bruce and to Yves, here is a photo of Bruce taken by Yves on one of their expeditions.

I include this purely as an excuse to sign off in the traditional AWW blog fashion - with some music

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6qngF7mMWY8

(Click on the link, as they say. Be patient; the music is towards the end.)

and with the traditional, obligatory, quotation:-

“No absolute is going to make the lion lie down with the lamb unless the lamb is inside.”

                                                                                                                                        (D H Lawrence)