AWW 2.05.2012: The Cai, Zeb and Foz Show, or WET,WET,WET!!

 

Terry´s Three Windmills to the south

This really was the walk that they had all being waiting for, those dyed-in-the wool traditionalists, the original Striders, that is. This one had everything – a killer ascent at the very start, updulations galore, precipitous descents (butt-clenching is a phrase that comes to mind), perilous river crossings aplenty, lashing rains, howling winds, obligatory trig shot. the lot. The only respite from the weather was the lunch stop at Cafe de Pasto Odília & Florival, but even that relief was followed immediately by another killer ascent up into the storm, scrambling off-piste over crumbling shale.

But where were those old-timers who have never ceased to insist that the only good walk is a tough one? No sign of Rod, of Myriam, of Maria, of the RCB, nor of Janet our resident herpetologist: all absent. Yea verily, they will rue the day they missed this epic. But  Oh what tales we Happy Few will have to tell, when the talk turns to proper walks !

The attentive Reader of these Blogs (and I am told that there is one, out there somewhere) will already have noted a change in editorial tone this week. The effervescent Fantastique Française style, to which we have been treated in recent months, has gone (only temporarily) to be replaced by dour prosaic tell-it-as-it-is reportage. This is because M.Le Blogeur is overseas, ostensibly on a photographic assignment, but there may be something more esoteric to it in view of the Story of the Week but, for speculation on that, you will have to read all the way to the end: meanwhile, we have received a comment on that day´s weather even before the Blog is out!  

“Dear David,
Thank you for a lovely walk yesterday despite the weather!
We had 20mm of rain - just for your stats!
Best wishes,
Lindsey”

And now on with the report:

 

The Water Wizard:-

David L.

The Water Babies:-

Geoff, Sue, Dina, Lindsey, Terry A, , John H, Hazel, Tina, Ingrid, and not forgetting the Raspberry Leprechaun (John O´) and the Lemon Leprechaun (Jim).

The Water Dogs:-

Rusty (probably), Rosie (just mucky).

 

The Statistics, courtesy Ingrid 

moving time 4 h 56 m, total time 6 h 22 m
moving avg 4 km/h, overall avg 3.1 km/h
tot.ascent 792 m, max elev. 374 m
Distance 19.6 km

Two tracks for the same price 

This is the Google map our Leader was trying to follow in the gale: you will notice he had originally planned to inflict 4 trig point ascents on us. Thank goodness for small mercies!

and this is the route we actually took. (Click to enlarge)

The Leader´s Report

“AWW, Wednesday 2^nd May 2012.

“The Cai, Zeb and Foz Show, or WET,WET,WET!!

“It was much to the credit of all who had signed up for the walk that that we had a full complement to begin this epic encounter with the elements in the no-man’s land of Cai Logo. The weather forecast promised rain, which turned out to be a masterpiece of understatement. Ingrid made the start by the proverbial skin, having taken a wrong turn and had no help from a clueless local. Much donning of rain gear and other anxious preparations, followed by the obligatory photo, saw us leave the start-point at around 9.45.

Tina was back with day-glo boot trims enough to make the RCB jealous.

“A steep gradient to the first ridge faced us immediately, but all made it in good order, and the march along the spine commenced in drizzle and fairly light rain. All went according to plan, the somewhat dismal conditions failing to dampen spirits or quell the usual WW chatter.

“First event to lighten the day came when we took on an additional passenger in the shape of an ex-partridge that Rosie found, either just dead or dying of wounds. In spite of John’s reservations, Hazel insisted on taking it on board (carefully wrapped up). We all hope they enjoyed their two mouthfuls each of fresh game!

The poor wee thing is still being hung; the Chinese like to eat proper.

“Reaching the end of the ridge in continuing intermittent rainfall, a long descent to the Arade valley began, though not before the necessary photo at the Pereira Alto trig point, just as a heavy squall hit us.

 

 

 

“(In the only error of the day, we went too far to the right and had a longer walk along the valley floor than was intended, resulting in a modest distance overshoot for the day).

The Map-leader

“A somewhat dull trudge along the public gravel road ensued, past the hamlet of Zebro de Baixo.

Chaminé de Zebro de Baixo

“A short detour across the river to relieve the monotony resulted in some mock heroics by John O’, carefully shepherded by Terry, as he stood to be snapped standing on a makeshift tree-trunk bridge across the stream. The substantial concrete affair was the actual crossing method used. We did have several stream crossings during the day, but fortunately the water levels had not been too badly affected by the rainfall (pre-lunch at least).

“I thought you said your first-aid course was LAST week”

“After two more of these watery adventures, we reached the eagerly awaited lunch-stop at the bar in Foz de Ribeiro. Enticing smells of cooking greeted us, but this halt proved to be more frustrating than simply stimulating our digestive juices. To begin with, the very kindly lady hostess (resplendent in her food-handler’s hairnet) had her hands full serving her lunch customers in the restaurant, and there was no-one else to help serve coffee to thirsty walkers, so we simply had to wait – some never got a drink at all. Dina was reduced to helping herself to beer from behind the counter. (At the proprietress’ invitation, I hasten to add.)

Leprechauns despondent

Dina triumphant

“Then the rain stopped, at almost the same moment as we went under cover outside the bar, and the sun even peeped out briefly as we sat.

“Eventually, some of us did get a warm drink, and a fulsome apology from the lady as we left.

“Recrossing the last stream, we turned uphill once more to attain the return ridge, and almost on cue the rain began once more, turning rather heavy as we climbed. A memory block had erased from the leader’s mind the rough climb to the ridge path through head-high plant life – fortunately it was short.

“Then began the most memorable part of the day. The higher we climbed, the harder the rain fell, and the stronger the wind became, until it was hurling the next best thing to hailstones at us on the horizontal, and this continued for some considerable time.

(Photography in the rain has its drawbacks)

 Raspberry and Lemon

“As the battle with rain and wind continued, there were anxious observations from some walkers about the security of the leader’s knowledge of the route, as he was clutching an increasingly soggy set of Google photos to his chest and consulting them rather frequently. Having only covered the route once, some seven weeks earlier, in bright sunshine, he was indeed a little nervous, but fortunately, enlightenment came at the right moments, and he guided us off the ridge into the comparative calm of the valley walk back to the start, 1.5k and about 20 minutes over distance and time budgets respectively. The steep descent did nothing for certain pairs of knees (hope they are feeling better, Dina).

“At the cars, a debate was had about whether to adjourn for a drink or head for the warmth of home. Some departed, and the rest made the pilgrimage to Al(s) Café in Sarnadas, there to spend a happy half-hour steaming dry, indulging in the usual crack and, very enjoyably, consuming Hazel’s excellent sausage rolls and dip. (Thank you, Hazel!)

“After this experience, no-one will be able to say that the AWWs are fair-weather walkers!”

“ Blow winds, and crack your cheeks ! rage ! blow ! You cataracts and hurricanes, spout ! Rumble thy bellyfull ! Spit, fire ! spout, rain ! “

 

Crossing the Arade

Gourmet Corner

In recent months, Blog followers have been treated to, or tantalised by, M.Le Blogeur´s innovative Walking Lunch Menus, complete with sparkling  cutlery and pristine napery. Unfortunately, the best we could come up with this week was a somewhat depressed boiled egg. Quel dommage! 

And now for the Story of the Week: “The Wild Spitfire Chase”

The British Press recently reported that a Lincolnshire farmer had come across 20 Spitfires (WW11 fighter planes) buried 40 feet undergound in Burma.The man said that at the end of the war in the Far East they were surplus and were buried in Burma so that the Karens, an ethnic group fighting for independence could use them during any future uprising. Very odd, that, since their uprisings really only started after 1962 when Ne Win´s military took over. Ian Scott and I remember that moment well because we were doing intensive training in London with The Chartered Bank just then; we were in Finches Bar off Bishopsgate - or maybe it was The Green Man near Mansion House -  at the time when The Chartered Bank´s branch in Rangoon suddenly became People´s Bank No.3. But I digress. So this farmer went out to Burma when David Cameron was there the other day to see Aung San Suu Kyi, buttonholed the PM, and said he had this project to dig the planes up (they are reported to be all nicely crated and wrapped in waxed and grease-proof paper and protected with tar) and repatriate them to Britain. Cameron said “Jolly good show” and that seemed to be that. But then the farmer´s rich business partner has allegedly “trumped” his recovery plan with a bigger one - there are now said to be no less that 120 of the planes underground in Burma. Must be something special about the soil out there – Burma has this reputation for having the best ruby mines, and now Spitfires. And all sorts of people are after them now – Australians, Yanks, Israelis. Let´s give Cameron his due; his strategic thinking is spot on. After all, vintage planes for the annual Buckingham Palace fly-past are becoming a bit thin on the ground, (or should that be thin in the air?) and it would be just the thing, old boy, to have another wing or two of Spits to hand, don´t you know. Can´t let Johnny Foreigner get the buried treasure.

Now, as you all know, Yves and Terry are vintage aircraft buffs and Terry knows his Spitfires, whether they have Merlin or Griffon engines. Are they up to something Burmese-like?  Maybe this picture of their recovery team complete with aero-engine tells us something. 

Any way, all speculation about M.Le Blogeur´s whereabouts aside, you can google the saga at “ It´s Spitfires at dawn in Burma”.

A true story? Well, as Shakespeare would have said:

“ `tis true,´tis true ´tis a story and story ´tis ´tis true”

He also said about the weather in May:

“Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May.”

while Anthony Trollope cautiously commented:

“Let no man boast himself that he has got through the perils of winter till at least the seventh of May.”