Guadiana Away Days 2024. Day One.

 The Great Guadiana Trek, 2024.

This expedition had been a long time in the gestation, and the personnel involved had undergone multiple changes, right up to the last minute. In the end, we were eleven, which turned out to be an excellent complement. The aim was to walk from Vila Real de Santo Antonio on the Spanish border, to Alcoutim, 32k up the Guadiana valley as the crow flies, but around 65k according to those who devised the section of GR15 we chose to walk. In the end, we managed around 50 k, beaten by the weather on the last day. We shall return!

Day One

As I drove into Vila Real de Santo Antonio (hereinafter referred to as VRSA), on the 12^th November, my mind was full of apprehension. Had I finally got my directions to the start correct? Did everyone read them? Would I last the four days, having not done anything comparable for quite a long time? Would the taxi scheme work? 😔

But it was a beautiful day, the sun shining down on the vast river estuary, as I parked across the road from the Monumento do Pescador and walked to the nearest café. It turns out that the somewhat enigmatic monument is known by the locals as the Monumento Atum – and indeed, it has several large stone tuna fish depicted amongst the heap of rough cut boulders – but that doesn´t help the lost traveller who has seen the official title on Google.

            Starters at the Monumento Atum. Left to right: John, Caroline, Karen, Ann, Jan, Selina,              Susan, Ros, Sue, Geoff. Yours truly behand the camera. Second from left is Phil, Ros´husband, her chauffeur to the start.

The rest of the party turned up at intervals, some having stayed overnight in the town, others like me having taken another micrometer of surface off the A22 that morning.

The party comprised old hands Geoff and Sue, Ros, John and Susan, Jan and myself, bolstered by new recruits Selina (Jan´s friend), Anne, Karen and Caroline.

The demand for coffee from some of the last arrivals meant that we were a few minutes late leaving the start, but as tradition demands, we gathered in front of the monument for the starting photo. Phil Smith got in as he had driven Ros to VRSA the previous evening, so he became an honorary AWW for a couple of minutes.

We started off along the arrow-straight waterside on the first part of the journey, towards Castro Marim. We passed the statue of the Marquis de Pombal, who was responsible for the rebuilding of the town on its distinctive grid pattern, after the earthquake of 1755. I´m not sure what the old boy would have made of this particular depiction, but at least the hair is clearly shown.

Riverside View as we departed.

Normal paparazzo view of walkers striding out.

                                                     Handsome buildings on the river front.

                                                  He Would Not BELIEVE it!

The river front divides quite clearly into two sections. The first a quite noble set of buildings hiding the huge square behind, the second rather less appealing and somewhat odiferous old fishing port area best left behind quickly. Then a bit of no-man´s land past the new port buildings, with the terminus of the Algarve railway line on the left. All this was covered at a cracking pace, the flat land unfamiliar as it was to the sturdy mountaineers of the AWW.

Turning north, we set out along the equally straight walk along the N122 which crosses the salt marsh to Castro Marim. Not much bird life, sadly, but we did encounter the two metal sculptures (fine figures of a man and a woman, both clearly athletes), and had to stop for photos, to show that we were their equals. The other point of note was the remains of the old salt pans, and some rather dirty looking piles of salt in the distance.

Wow! Faces, not bums!

The salt marshes

Our Guides

Salt Marsh Des Res

Ah well, back to normal.

The Lady´s not for Walking

But Ann would like to take the gentleman home.

                                         But all the girls wanted a piece of the action.

Then we were approaching the spectacular and even rather intimidating entrance to Castro Marim, walls and fort leaving only a narrow gap through which to walk into the centre of the town. A brief stop ensued at the tourist information centre as we admired the neatness of the town and its quaint low buildings. The illusion of age was dispelled as soon as we turned away from the main street to walk alongside car parks and a very modern market building, following which we did a somewhat tedious trip through the modern suburbs, heading north once more.

Old and new on the approach to Castro Marim.

Igreja Matrix

Why do tourists look at local notice boards?

The Castelo of Castro Marim

More metal - this time a menagerie!

Finally, after climbing our first short hill through a very new housing development, we turned off the road and headed up a track (a track!!) to a point where we could view the whole of Castro Marim behind us. Moving along through an undulating landscape and crossing a sluggish little stream, we were attacked by mosquitos, and wondered whether this was to be our fate for the duration. Thankfully the attacks were only sporadic.

Descending into a valley with a small lake, we climbed out past the very large and very empty, not to say abandoned art deco style hotel which I still know nothing about. Leaving this behind, another short trip across open land took us to tarmac once again, as we went under the motorway and descended towards the village of Monte Francisco, taking a slight short cut up through the older part of the settlement.

The Hotel Where Nobody Stays. (Spookeee!) 

Ros, Jan and Geoff on the road to Monte Francisco.

Walking out of the village we came to a very prosperous looking area of large houses before turning off the road once more and climbing a short steep hill leading across country towards the Castro Marim golf course. Passing the rather absurdly neat roadside edge of the course, box hedges and all, we turned off eventually to thankfully walk the rest of the way to Junqueira, our target for the day, on tracks.

(At this point my camera was forgotten, as I saw that I needed to increase our pace in order to get to Junqueira for the taxis. not a very interesting bit anyway.)

The route was however not very inspiring or attractive, and we were quite thankful to arrive on the main road at Junqueira with three minutes to spare of our allotted time to meet the taxis from VRSA. And there they were!

The short journey back to VRSA was quick and comfortable – until we reached the calcadas of the riverside, which had been fine on foot, but were a little upchurning by vehicle. There are some inventive patterns in there, however!

Having moved the cars towards the main square, we went in search of a light lunch (Geoff and Sue became detached at this point, and had to be guided back to the group. ) The café was pleasant, the food acceptable, the sun still shone, and we had covered 12-13k of our journey in around 3 hours. A few folk decided to spend a little time looking around VRSA, and the rest set off on the motorised trek up to Alcoutim.

All was prepared for us at the Hotel d´Alcoutim on our arrival, so each departed to their rooms, arranging to meet just before 7 for the walk into town to our pre-booked restaurant. One or two of the group had arranged alternative accommodation in Alcoutim.

The evening meal was interesting. We met at a small bar in the town, which had been used by the Via Algarviana group a couple of years ago. We had booked into a restaurant new to the group, as the one used during the Via Algarviana epic was closed that day. It did appear after a while that this restaurant too might be on the brink of closing for the season, because as the meal went along, they seemed to start running out of things, and had to offer alternatives. The food on offer was just OK, but the place was made extremely noisy, as another group was also in attendance.

I think he´s run out of wine!

Wot, no pud?

All ended with a quick walk back to our digs and bed. I had found the walk easy enough, but it was short. I was still left wondering whether my ageing body would hold up for another three days. In the event it was only two, but I surprised myself.

                                                               Day One Route.