AWW 26.11.2008 - The Caldeirao Cop-Out

Present:-
Bipeds - Janet, Paul, Antje, Hilke, Ingrid, John H, Hazel, Lindsey, Terry M, Hedley, David.
Quadrupeds - Tiggy, Sambo.

Track of the walk (click to enlarge)

The planning for this walk was made far less onerous because those nice people at Sao Bras had sent someone out to paint helpful red and yellow markers along the route. Then they went even further and sent the details to those equally nice people at Turismo do Algarve who put the whole thing into their terribly interesting book of walks for all of us excruciatingly pleasant folks to use. Isn't all that ever so ever so???

Ten Cold Walkers

Meeting time was set for 9.15 on the outskirts of Barranco de Velho, and mirabile dictu everyone was there on time, even if Hedley (on a flying visit, and most welcome) was 300 metres up the road at the Tia Bia.

Senior Member with Sign

It was too much to hope that the start would be prompt, however, as several arrivals demanded their caffeine shot and comfort stop and disappeared up the road. On their return, it appeared that a new rule had been promulgated stating that walks must always start from a bar - at least that's what Janet said. The Leader had a few choice words to say about Whingeing Westerners before all mounted up to ride in convoy to the start at Parises.

Weather conditions were sunny but extremely chilly as the group left the village to begin this roller-coaster of a ramble through a beautiful section of the Serra de Caldeirao. Praise was heaped at several points on those who had not only marked the walk but also set up information boards and maps at intervals.

Voces Sao Aqui
The route describes a distorted figure of eight, with an extra loop at the extremity of one of the circles of the 8. Deep wooded valleys with running streams and isolated hamlets alternate with open and (on this occasion) windswept hillsides and spectacular views. Both the ocean and the Spanish frontier are visible from the highest points.
All of that descriptive garbage is an attempt to hide the fact that this was a largely uneventful outing for the WWs. No-one fell in to any of the streams cunningly left in their path, even though some rather uneven stepping-stones had been prepared for the purpose.

Demonstration Run

Stick Down - 0.5 Deduction.
No-one fell over or got ripped to shreds on pricklies. The Leader cannot even remember hearing a complaint of any kind after the initial mutiny, which he finds ever so slightly worrying. It's when they go quiet that you should really be scared - or so they say.
Lunch was taken in what might be called 'surprise valley' a deep hollow near the ridge at Cabeca do Velho. Even here, the cold wind penetrated, and a sheltered sunny spot was located with some difficulty. Once found, however, it was warm and seductively comfortable, and it was only with reluctance that the trek was resumed. This valley, with an old donkey track running through it, made a refreshing change from the wide dirt roads covering the rest of the route.

Happiness is....

.... a Cold Banana
On reaching the tarmac road at the village, Hedley, out of training, decided to walk back to Parises along it, leaving The Ten to descend once more to the valley floor and complete the walk by the return climb to the start.

Cabeca do Velho Hillclimb
With only a few hundred metres to go, the first and only glitch of the day resulted from an abortive attempt to find a route avoiding the last rather unwelcome ascent. As predicted, both bars at Parises were closed, so the happy band returned to Barranco Velho.

Rush Hour, Serra de Caldeirao

Baaaaarmy, all of 'em!
With the sun having just left the terrace at the Tia Bia, the warmth of the cramped bar was more than welcome, and the usual half hour of chit chat and banter followed. Farewells to Terry Mace, returning to the UK once more, and it was all over for another week. What a masochistic lot we are. No bar photo this week, as none was supplied. Some might say thank heavens for that.
Stats, for the terminally bored:
Total Distance:- 21km
Moving Time:- 4h 41m
Total Time:- 5h 19m
Moving Av:- 4.5 k/h
Overall av:- 3.9k/h
Total Ascent:- 916m
Max. elevation:- 524m


CB's Comment: A very good turn out considering it was the week after the RTC and also at the nether regions of the Algarve (for some of us!). There were some notable absentees, who probably considered they had already done enough to qualify for a subsidised Crimble Lunch! Most had reasonable reasons, but they missed a superb circuit of eight with landscape quite different from the western end of the Algarve.

Without Myriam's trigger happy fingers, there were far fewer decisions to be made about which photos to include.
The cold Nortada wind sustained throughout the day, just enough to prevent us from sweating excessively on the climbs, but also prompting most to keep their fleeces and jackets on all day. However in the few places the wind did not reach it was very equable and the visibility was superb.
"The higher we rise, the more isolated we become; all elevations are cold." Boufflers



"Many can brook the weather that love not the wind." Shakespeare, William




Finally, Antje gave her analysis of what the basic requirements of a good walk are.
First, her prognosis:
Then, her prescription:
Moral of the story? Leaders have to allow for comfort stops when they plan their campaigns.




(click on the little black arrows to view)
That's All, Folks!

In Memoriam; Perdi

Perdi

In Memoriam for Perdi.

Perdi (Perdida), aged 17 ½, was sadly put to sleep on 10^th.November almost 10 years to the day after she completed the first full traverse of the Algarve Way along with Shadow (Tony Webster), Josh (Ian Cooper) and Pookie (Rod). Through sponsorship they raised a considerable sum for APAA in the process. (The walkers were Maurice, Myriam, Rod, Ian Cooper, Mark Harman, Tony Webster and Ian Angus.) Of these four dogs only Pookie now survives.

AWW 12.11.2008 Pole to Pole or Memories are Made of This

Chronological proximity to Remembrance Day seemed to inspire several of the Walkers last Wednesday to their own individual brand of reminiscence. Writers as diverse as Lawrence Sterne, Flann O'Brien and Anthony Powell have employed the device of memory streams and the empirical association of ideas to construct literary works of some stature; and it is Proust, of course, who remains pre-eminent in this field with his exploration in A la recherche du temps perdu of the notion of involuntary memory aroused by incidental causes. (Once upon a time, one could churn out this sort of cod lit-crit or garbage all day, but you, dear reader, will readily have gathered by now that the Chief Blogger has delegated the task of this week's blog to a deputy while he girds up his loins and polishes his thesaurus ready for next week's RTC, and will have had enough of it.)

Be all that as it may, the leader Ian Scott had vague recollections on his mind, the history of the Great War for example, how Maddy was found on Madrinha by Maurice some years back, and of a path round the south face of Foia; Thyl could dimly recall being on a Foia Walk led by Ian when all was shrouded in mist (that was AWW 22.11.2006); Rod mourned Purdey; and Paul muttered poetry to himself as he marched along. Ian may not yet be in quite the same league as the previously mentioned writers but even so here is his report, unabridged, after the Starters photo, the statistics and the route map.

Starters at 10 a.m.

The stats are: Total Dist: 18.4; Moving time: 4 hr 33 min;Total Time:
5 hrs 18 min; Moving Average: 4.0 km/hr; Overall Avg: 3.5 km/hr; Total
Ascent: 828 m;
Max Elevation: 904 m.

Up around and down - as the leader said! (Click to enlarge)

"AWW 12.11.2008: Pole to Pole over Foia (OR NOT 'pole pole' for those with Swahili)

Lord Kitchener played by Ian S.
Cannon Fodder: Paul, Myriam, Rod, Mike, John, Hazel, Tina, Janet, Hilke, Lindsey, Andrew, Maria, Terry, Thyl, Dina, Vitor.
Gun Dogs: Maddy, Nandi.

A sunny, crisp if windy day saw us depart a little late (10.10 a.m.) for Foia, which we reached in under an hour, noting the cleared and improved paths and tracks.

As this was planned to be a non-controversial walk, we meandered northwest past the dam and looped west and south below the impressive terraces to the north of Madrinha, noting little cultivation and not much stock save for a few cattle and pigs.

We lunched in the lee of Madrinha and then passed on to the Miradouro to enable our geocachers to do 'their thing'.

The route back to Foia is becoming a problem due to the vigorous scrub growth almost obliterating the stock trails.

Back to base by 3:30 after a bracing workout."


The CB suggests that considerable padding is needed to that terse memo. So be it; you get it.
"Pole pole", by the way, is Swahili for "slowly slowly" which Ian's walk was anything but. From Monchique helipad up the drain to Pegoes ridge took us 55 minutes, bloody "upesi" if you ask me. Partly that was due to the fact that the drain had been cleared of all its fallen trees ("Only fallen women left" Ian S) by a mountain bike group who had marked their route round Foia every ten yards or so, but mainly because of the truly unforgiving pace set by the leader.

The bikers' marks

CB's comment: There was a scurrilous suggestion that these were not BTT marks, but Polish Poles erected by Polish workers and marked with the Polish Flag, to guide their fellow countrymen in heavy cloud, over to the site where the NATO radar was being erected. Hence the title of the walk.

Once up the hill, just as the walking became easier, Janet was struck down by a recurrence of last year's FDS (Falling Down Syndrome) - it always gets you when you least expect it - but she bravely bounced up again.

Easier walking

At the dam, Myriam paused to give Dina her first golf lesson: I don't know why. "First, the stance."

Past the dam, the conversation took something of a Chinese turn as Andrew waxed nostalgic about the beauties of China encountered during his and Lindsey's recent visit to that country and Myriam explained the onomatopoeic significances of the delicacies traditionally served during Chinese New Year before dashing off to place her order at the local charcuterie for a little suckling pig for roasting later that evening.

The lunch spot presented a good view of the new Autódromo (if you like that sort of thing)

while the Leader posed with Maddy for a souvenir picture in the area where she was originally found by Maurice:

Maddy on Madrinha

He then broke totally with tradition by not taking the group up to the Madrinha trig point but instead we were "diverted" to Mirador da Fonte where the geocachers did their thing. (Some diversion!)

"Geocaching is such fun, don't you think?"

Then we had to climb back up the road and up past yet another new NATO watch tower, the construction of which has obliterated what used to be a perfectly good track across the hillside, (queries: why are NATO so keen on looking out across the southern Atlantic? Where and who do they expect the attack to come from?) and some sort of trig-point shot (technically very sound) was taken by the perennially camera-shy Thyl in front of the Foia cafe.

Not a trig-point shot

Then came that bit where Ian's vaguely-remembered stock trails had indeed been obliterated by that "vigorous" scrub. Paul aptly and alliteratively described the undergrowth as "thorns, tendrils and tentacles all testicle-high" . Maddy, probably born to the scene, scampered underneath but Nandi found it all extremely hard-going and, after giving a good imitation of a steeplechaser up and over the scrub for a few hundred yards, eventually refused, and had to be carried out in the arms of Andrew, adopting his best Good Shepherd mode. The rest of us struggled through and out at last. But one suspects that, now, there is no way across the southern slope of Foia and that for most of us, as we tweezer yet another thorn out of our shins, our particular memories of that stretch of torture will be to the tune of "Oh, How the antiseptic stings! These foolish things remind me of....."

Out at last

The Leader was then able to crank up the pace again and we fairly raced down the hill, in sparkling sunshine, retracing our route back through the drain and back to the helipad cafe where refreshments were taken.




And now a final contribution by our Chief Blogger being responsible for the next photograph and the poem:

The Nortada doth blow and we shall have snow,
And what will poor robin do then, poor thing?
He'll sit in a barn and keep himself warm
And hide his head under his wing, poor thing.

Go miser go, for money sell your soul. Trade wares for wares and trudge from pole to pole, So others may say when you are dead and gone. See what a vast estate he left his son. Dryden, John

"Hang on a moment; can't close yet" a voice from the back shouts. "Where's the movie?"

Well, I didn't take any this week but, seeing that it's all about memories, how about this lot from the archives, taken in years past when the AWW met up with DL's Irish-HHH-Trans-Algarve Expedition and had a pub stop one wild and windy day atop Foia?

One

Two

Three

and Four

Aplausos for our special guest star, David L, for this cameo appearance. As William Shakespeare put it well:

"Praising what is past makes the remembrance dear."

{ "Louvando o que se perdentorna a lembranca querida"}

AWW 05.11.2008 Virgins Galore !

I am not quite sure why Mike, today's Leader, chose this particular title, as there was a dearth of such on display, and even the donkey, mentioned in one of his frequent informatory briefings on the way round, in the end failed to qualify. What was commendable, and eligible for the AWW Book of Records, is that after I stepped out of the shower at 1605 hrs, and made my way to my computer, it dinged, heralding the arrival of an email which turned out to be Mike's comprehensive and detailed walk report. If I hadn't lingered at Cafe Cansado while Ian S. consumed his bonus beer(s) for winning the race back to the bar, it is conceivable that I might have arrived at my computer before the Walk Report - but it would have been a close run thing. Some might opine that it was "One he had Prepared Earlier" but it had been brought bang up to date with real time events which had occurred on the walk. Welcome back to Terry M. (chance for some free computer advice!!) and to Vanessa, whose name has been on our circulation list for a long time, but appeared today as a 'virgin'! Perhaps that was what Mike was referring to, but 'Galore' is still a bit extravagant! (See Video later on. DCB)

 

Most paid attention to the briefing.

A feature of this walk was the military precision with which Mike conducted the operation. There was a carefully researched distance/time estimation in the call circular; the exact number of participants as permitted under Rule 1, Subsection (iii); a profusion of briefings throughout the walk; and until the Black Sheep made a break at the end, the flock were herded round in generally good order. Here are Mike's reports - both in short form and the extended value-added version.

(Short form)

Walk statistics: CB to provide

Name: Virgins Galore

The Field (16): Paul; Myriam, Ian S, Ian W, Mike, Janet, Ingrid, Dina, Vitor, Hazel, John H, Tina, Terry M, Alex, Peter and Vanessa (first timer)

Hounds (1 couple): Nandi, Maddie

Walk Report: Not bad [That’s it!]

(CB's Note: This form of report is not to be encouraged!)

He continues...

[For those, especially the CB, dissatisfied with the above succinct report, and demanding a cornucopia of verbosity…. please see below.]

A special offer is available of one copy of ‘Trails in the Algarve’, previously advertised on this site, at the ‘give-away’ price of €100 [but, see note on special discount below]. Turismo in Portimão do not stock the book. It is available from Turismo in Rocha Brava as one example.

(Extended Report)

 
The track (Enlargable copy here )

Stats: Total Distance: 15.2 km; Moving time: 3 hrs 55 min.; Total Time: 4 hrs 40 min; Moving Average: 3.9 km/hr; Overall Average: 3.2 km/hr; Total Ascent 440 m.; Max. Elevation: 123 m.

The field (16 unmounted followers + 1 couple of hounds) assembled on a fine sunny morning at Arão bang on time and with no saboteurs in evidence. Stirrup cups had been pre-arranged at the nearby hostelry but the landlord absented himself so, following the usual bout of photographic exuberance, the hunt moved off on time at 09.30 hours precisely. Master: Mike, Whipper-in: Ian S.

Mike even arranged a 'support vehicle'

Ascending from Arão

We ascended the first mild hill in good style but were shortly disrupted by a cry of ‘wire’ involving a newly constructed fence. Having no wire cutters we negotiated this with some difficulty, scratches and a bloodied CB. Contrary to popular assumption it thus became evident that the CB is, in fact, a warm blooded creature.

'New' Fence. (See previous notes about value of recces!!)

View Halloo or Where's Charlie?

Having rounded the fence we picked up a good scent that took us briskly over the ridge top with good views all round leading us in the direction of the saga of ‘Maurice, the apple and the donkey’. From here we were able to look down on the major road, opened the previous weekend, which leads off the A22 Via do Infante direct to the Autódromo Internacional do Algarve. This is already taking a remarkable volume of traffic consisting mainly of those wishing to see what can only be described as an outstanding engineering feat in a topographically beautiful setting. It is likely to prove a major visitor attraction to the Algarve. On this occasion crossing the obstacle of the road proved no problem but it is regrettably likely that, in the future, it will be fully fenced off. Hounds now gave tongue and led us back up onto the ridge and thence to our first trig point at Moita Ladrões (111 m) where, again, the obligatory photograph was taken involving the usual milling around.

Ladrões Trig Point

From this vantage point the scent now took us down through the pine woods to a minor road and thence past Mulher Morte. Just why the ‘mulher’ died remains a mystery, despite enquiries from the locals – shades of past dark deeds!

Mike's 'Mulher Morte' briefing

The bellows were now given a little exercise as we ascended to Amieira from where we were able to see Boi (125m) together with excellent views of the Serra de Monchique, the wind turbines of Foia and the new Autódromo facilities including the hotel complex, pits and grandstands.

Met some horses on the top with Autodromo buildings in background

At a saddle shortly before Boi the entire field elected the route of the ‘wise virgins’ down to the Amieira stream. The route of the ‘foolish virgins’ involves a climb to the Boi trig point and a scratchy difficult descent through heavy cistus. None of the field elected for this option though Ian W showed spirit in giving it serious consideration.

CB's note:The Wise Virgins benefited from the hard sell speech from the Leader)

 

The 'Wise v. Foolish Virgins' Speech!

 

Hazel on the Hop

We took the stream in good style with no falls and then passed three pleasant dams where hounds were able to take a cooler, invigorating themselves for the pursuit ahead. The hunt now streamed forward following the horn and a halloo of ‘Tally Ho, Away! towards a plateau where Charlie ran straight and true southwards towards a monstrosity of a pylon known in geocaching circles as ‘The Rock of Sisyphus’ where we paused for lunch admiring the magnificent 360º view of the south coast resorts, surrounding farmlands and, to the northwards, the Serra de Monchique.

(CB's note: I don't know who Charlie is either - but I do know a George in old RAF slang!!

To my slightly fresher memory, 'Charlie , short for Victor Charlie, is the US phonetic slang for Viet Cong. An old Cockney might understand (a right) Charlie as rhyming slang for Charlie Ronce - ponce, however, cocaine is also known as 'Charlie' and there are some coarser Cockney rhyming derivations such as 'Charlie Bucket' and Charlie Hunt)

( DCB's note: Charlie is probably a.k.a. Mr. Todd or your common or garden fox.)

Some had lunch to windward.........

 

.......and some in the lee!

Suitably revitalized and refreshed and with hip flasks pocketed we made a good descent to join the dirt road that leads to Moita Ladrões and Centro Hipico near Mexilhoeira. On the return journey we passed under the new Autódromo road by way of a muddy tunnel crossing.

Evidence of the muddy tunnel!

It is sad to report that the CB must be losing his marbles as he admitted to not being aware that we had crossed the major road in this manner. A subscription list will shortly be opened to benefit CB's suffering from Walkers Fatigue.

Charlie now led us homewards the way we had come along the ridge top westwards.

(CB's note: Here the Leader glosses over the fact that despite the 'new' fence having been there on the way out, causing grievous injury to yours truly, he had forgotten about it by the return journey, and a last ditch attempt was made to circumvent it to the east which failed: thus we again found ourselves exposed to more barbed wire and thorns!!)

New Fence (again)..........

 

........and again!!

However, the proximity of the hostelry at Arão proved too much for the Whipper-in who took hounds down at a canter, ahead of the Master where Charlie finally ran to ground at 14.10 hours.

Supping in the sun!

Note re book: A special discount of €95 is available to the first AWW applying to Mike for this book which he will bring to the walk scheduled for 12^th November.

Thanks Mike for a pleasant and informative walk. All leaders - especially next week's - would be advised to remember the Three 'R's:- Recce, Recce, Recce!!!

Hope for the best, but prepare for the worst. Proverb, English

Now the movies:

Vanessa's first appearance

The Tale of Mulher Morte, or "Murder Most Foul" ( Hamlet I.5 )

And a final word from our animal friends:


"Can't comment on their virginity, but all these walkers look pretty foolish to us."