The Luck of the Irish, or When 15 became 20…
Poço Barreto station had not seen anything quite like it: a gathering of Crèche Rejects awaiting the local worm-train with the eager anticipation that only children and Walkers share!
Under the watchful eyes of their supervisors…
Almost on time, we boarded the gaily graffitied carriage and money changed hands: some lucky, forward-thinking Walkers had their ID with them and paid half-fare, others were told that ‘You look old, but that is not enough’, the nerve of it… The short ride was a good opportunity for some essential safety kit to be issued to many of theWalkers (some already possessed their own): brightly coloured Walker’s High Intensity Strident Tone Locating Equipment devices. The more perspicacious members of the troop soon arrived at a suitable acronym: W.H.I.S.T.L.E., even that was soon shortened to ‘Wotsit’ (Instructions therefor in addendum; q.v.).
Blogueur, Chef-de-Gare: his talents tested on the ‘Old Yellow W.H.I.S.T.L.E. Test’
Alighting at Estombar, the group was completed by the ‘far-side residents’ and off we trundled. From the unusual perspective of the hills, the bridge and the tidal flats of the estuary took on a rather different aspect.
John O’ could not see his house but the pub was gloriously outstanding, ‘That’s ok, then!’.
The walk was excatly as advertised in its early parts: gentle climbs, easy paths along the river and very good views of an area that we should perhaps revisit some time.
As we passed through the orange groves, the smell of blossom was almost inebriating but the fruit was forbidden, said our conscience.
We lost one of our number who turned back when it became clear that the target time and distance might not be met; such perception was correct and as we reached the Café back at Poço Baretto with relief, some of us were feeling somewhat more jaded than they would have liked to feel… Still, the beer was cool and the weather had been kind: a gentle breeze and a veiled sun made the walking very pleasant, not to mention the never-ceasing craich! It was an Irish-led event, after all.
The Irish contingent, to be sure!
Well done Jim, and many thanks for a new experience!
The Training Party:
music: Ennio Morricone…
The full Squad:
John H, Hedley, Jim,, Antje, Frank, Paul, John O’, lyndsey, Rod, Janet, Hilke, Myriam, dina, Chris, Yves, Ingrid, Alex.
The few Woofs: Sasha, Shelley, Tiggy.
The Track:
The Stats:
Total Distance: 20.5 km
Total Time: 5 hrs 27 min
Moving Time: 4 hrs 42 min
Overall Average: 3.7 km/hr
Moving Average: 4.3 km/hr
Total Ascent: 327 m.
Max Elevation: 113 m.
The Leader:
‘Blood, sweat and tears?’
His report:
Nobody mentioned I would have to do a report, but here goes!
This walk began like a school outing of yesteryear.
After meeting in the café across the road, the “kids” all lined up on Poço Baretto station platform and boarded the train (which was a bit late, but who cared?) in animated discussion led by Myriam – do we or don’t we get a Seniors discount?
Eventually the conductor (who was a great guy with a sense of humour) turned up and settled the question – we do but we have to show proof of age on a passport. This the tight fisted amongst us duly did, thereby denying the already shaky Portuguese economy of 70 centimos per ticket. No wonder the country is broke!
The other excitement during the train journey was the handing out of whistles by M. le Blogueur. Needless to say, some “kids” started blowing them immediately. Luckily we were in the last carriage, otherwise the driver might have heard them and made an emergency stop.
And so to Estombar, where we were greeted by dog owners Chris Antje & Frank (dogs being frowned upon by train rules) and John O’ who had no excuse at all.
By the time the customary group photograph of the whole group of 18 was taken it was already 10:40 when the walk started.
The abandoned barber’s shop
Initially we went through the streets of Estombar to the rather pretty church on the hill, and then down to the flat area leading to a bridge over the EN125 near the suspension bridge.
You ain’t got that swing if ain’t got that trig…
The trail then went uphill for a couple of rises to a trig point and good views down river to Portimao. Also in view was the remarkable difference in traffic volume between the busy 125 bridge and the almost empty A22 bridge.
After that, the views were mostly inland, up river towards the mountains from the trail which led down to the Fontes de Estombar.
Mud, glorious mud!
Lots of muddy banks because unfortunately the tide was fully out, but the Fontes area itself was in full flow with clear spring water.
Progress up to this point was slow. Whether that was due to the exciting train journey, or to the variations of scenery along the walking route, was not clear but it led Hilke to decide to drop out because the finishing time for the whole mystery tour was obviously becoming difficult to determine.
At one point Paul expressed concern that we were heading in the opposite direction (according to his modern gadget) to our finishing point. But never mind, we were following the Rio Arade winding its way to Silves.
Brightening the day
Going past the edge of the rice fields (not yet planted), to the 3 coloured rocks indicating a Dutch-run B&B, then past a hugely expensive new single house development, then along the river bank and Mata Mouros estate, we finally arrived at a suitable lunch stop near the Ponte Romana.
After lunch, suitably invigorated, and at a faster pace, we went further along the river for about 1km and then, FINALLY, up up and away to the right over a few hills in the vague direction of Poço Baretto.
Vague, because I have to admit a certain ignorance of GPS gadgetry, so for this half of the journey the projected total distance was being frequently revised from the originally advised 15km to 18 then 19 to a final 20.4km back at the cars.
All’s well that ends well, with a Sagres.
However, I was assured by all it was a good walk somewhat out of the usual. I hope they were not just being polite!
The Oddments Bin: Friends we passed on the way
Here’s lookin’ at you, kid!
Here’s lookin’ over you, kids…
Sans commentaires…
Ingrid’s stones
Silves from Quinta de Mata Mouros
Walk like an Egyptian but DO throw a penny in the well to make Myriam’s wish come true!
The Grand Folly; Dutch style:
Taste and money…
Le déjeuner: Mindful of previous admonitions, the Gourmet ate ‘humble sandwiches’ but the bâton had cunningly and secretly been passed to ‘La Gourmette’ who produced a glorious Quiche from her back-pack and kept up the culinary standards; why, some other Walkers were also observed to use proper ‘irons’ to tuck into their bait! Like, Man!
Are you all sitting comfortably? Then, I’ll begin!
Addendum: a short ‘How-to-do-it’ Guide
Using your standard-issue Walker’s High Intensity Strident Tone Locating Equipment (W.H.I.S.T.L.E. or WOTSIT):
1/ Get lost!
2/ That accomplished, wet your lips, pucker up and blow into your WOTSIT; the harder one blows, the more satisfying the result;
3/ In the unlikely event of total or faked incapacity, ask someone else to blow into your WOTSIT;
4/ Smile contentedly as you wait for the help thus summoned to materialise (bring a book, the wait may be lengthy…)
Tail-piece:
The Ginger-bread House and the Spicy Girls…
Whistle codes:
ReplyDeleteOne blast: I am nearly out of breath and can't keep up!
Two blasts: I need a Pee-pee!
Three Blasts: Where did you all go?
Four blasts: I am the Leader - keep up!
Five blasts: You might be the Leader, but we need to take photos for the Blog!
Three short, three long, three short blasts: This is an emergency. Has anyone got any paper?
Is it because Chinese cannot understand French mathematics or is it because there is a new way of AWW calculations?
ReplyDeleteHow to get the sum of 15 becomes 20?
Who are the 15? Who are the 5?
How come Jim got 18 and only 17 heads counted in the photo?