Sex and Serenity. A Perfect Day Gorging Around Paderne.

Hold your horses, we´ll get to the sex eventually!

Frank´s Five are getting into the swing these days. This week it was the Updulator himself wot was leading, and I´m pleased to say that I was only about 1% short of a clean sheet, which helps make up for last time out.

Meeting place was the busy little cafe with the terrace in Paderne, where we all enjoyed a pre-walk beverage. Frank came by a slightly roundabout route, but he was there well before time. Then we repaired to the car park and renewed our acquaintance with the little euphonium player. We keep asking him to join us, but he seems rooted to the spot. This time he even managed to get his instrument halfway in front of Frank´s face on the photo. 

So Ros, Miriam, Ken, Frank and myself set off for a slightly modified version of my Paderne Gorge walk, with eager four-legs Bica and Jasper in attendance. The weather was clear and sunny when we set out. It hazed over as we went, but by the time we finished it was clearing out again. Still warm for mid-November.

We left the town centre by the path up the side of the football ground, and headed up the moderately steep hill heading south out of the town. A short section of off-piste saw us descend to join the track leading towards the motorway viaduct and Paderne Castle. We passed Casa Wilhelm on the way, but didn´t stop to ask if The Kaiser was at home. 

From the viaduct it was the well-worn track up to the castle plateau and round the curve to climb the old cart track over to yet another place called Malhao. No wonder the CTT fellas get confused. 

            Ros took this looking back to the Castle from the track to Malhao.

Coming down from the high ground, we walked on tarmac through the now completed ´Millionaire´s Holiday Village´, a symphony in blue and white atop the hill. The cost of a week in one of these places makes the blood run cold.

          This first palace is called Sky One.

Leaving all this opulence behind, we descended towards Malhardais, where a very concerned local warned us against taking the next section of track. Her gestures suggested that we were about to drop off the edge of the world should we venture further. We decided to take the risk, and went down the very modest gradient to the valley floor, where a short stop was taken.

Ken completing the dangerous descent.

Then it was up the quite steep slope on a very pleasant footpath to reach the stretch of tarmac road preceding the drop to the gorge.

Not as much fun as the dangerous bit!

The walk down to the side of the Quarteira river is a little protracted, but we made it with one small hiccup (my one error of the day).  If we expected water after the rain of the previous weekend, we were sadly disappointed. The river channel was stone dry, and we saw narry a single pond (other than the muddy ones on the track) between there and the weir below the castle. Very worrying.

We had lunch here, appropriately socially distanced.

Jasper had a field day, running around like a pup all day, while Bica had more important things to concentrate on.

Before we left the lunch spot, Ros had a lesson on how to open her phone (or something like that)

There followed the longish but very pleasant walk along the gorge. An early stop was occasioned by the ruined aqueduct and well, the well enormously deep, but just as dry as the river bed - and with no cover or netting!

We had to cross the river bed twice more, and what a contrast to the last time, when we were wading up to the knees (depending on the length of ones legs, of course.)

And now the bit you have all been waiting for. (No photos, it was just too shocking). Lying on the path was a disc, obviously from a container of some kind. On it was emblazoned the words `Sex Wax´ bold as anything. WITH INTRUCTIONS!!!!!

Shaken to the core, we staggered on, having just enough presence of mind to study some of the fine display boards recently erected by Albufeira Camara, detailing the flora and fauna to be found in the area. We were introduced to Myrtle, and learned that had we had the time and the containers, we could have gathered enough berries from the two laden bushes we saw, to have had myrtle jam by now. And not a moan was heard.

Jasper leading the way on the narrow path.

Reaching the cottage by the weir beneath the castle mound, I was greeted with a rebellion by Frank, who sat down on a convenient ceramic bench and declared a water stop. The area around the cottage has been thoroughly regimented, with gates, locks, a defined path and numerous warnings. Oh, and spy cameras. One can no longer cross the weir, but luckily we had no intention of doing so. Up the hill to the road by the motorway was our course, under the rather sinister metal construction sporting the word Azenha, which we learned for the first time means Watermill.

From there it was a matter of crossing the wide valley from the motorway back to Paderne, including the concrete ford which, like the river, was completely dry for the first time I can remember. The concrete posts and metal handrail look faintly silly to anyone not familiar with the raging torrent this crossing can become.

Back to the cafe and a most enjoyable half hour with a glass and a chat. We five have determined (any new virus restrictions permitting), to continue walking together for the time being. We shall not break any speed records, but that´s the way we like it!

Stats(such as they are)

Roughly 18k

5.5 hours

c 550m ascent

Sex: Only the bit we picked up on the way.