Benafim to Pedreiras
The track (click to enlarge)
Stats: Total Distance: 23.8 km; Moving Time: 4 hrs 52 min.; Total Time: 5 hrs 42 min; Moving Avg.: 4.9 km/hr.; Overall Avg.: 4.2 km/hr.; Total Ascent: 355 m.; Max Elev.: 298 m.
A bit of a rest day really, with David estimating 22 km, and few climbs. This was borne out by the stats which show remarkable moving and overall averages. Right from the start the Leader had to reign Iron Mike in, as he was striding along at about 5.4 km/hr and leaving the rest struggling to match his pace. Not even the awesome responsibility of being the Blogger of the Day held him up.
Mike’s generous report is below:
Walk statistics: Chief Blogger to complete. By my calculations this walk exceeded the Great Leader’s estimate by 8%. With the aid of my micrometer I am now engaged in measuring the resultant excess wear on my boot tread.
The Starters for Day 5
Guys: David (The Great Leader), Paul, Ian S, Ian W, Terry M and Mike
Dolls: Myriam, Janet, Tina, Ingrid, Alex and Lindsey
Dogs: Maddie (of whom more later)
Terrapins: Dilly (also of whom more later)
The ‘Grouch’ hits the front!
Whilst treading the path and obediently following the directions of our good leader, I fell to some gentle but deep consideration into my misfortune in being appointed to write the blog. And then it occurred to me – I could whinge and whine to my hearts content with no one, save the CB, to say me nay. Now there, thought I, was a cheering thought to keep one boot-clad foot passing another as we climbed up hill and down dale. I could be in my natural element that I have long sought to attain of being a Grumpy Old Man.
But then a major problem arose. It seemed that I had nothing to grumble about. The transport arrangements were not only brilliant but we had the ever-bubbly Dinah to cheer us on our way to the start. And then, I thought, SOMEONE just had to be late and I could grouse my way over that. But, again, I was foiled for everyone was there on time looking bright eyed and bushy tailed ready for the start – Bah, humbug. Ah! Perhaps I had it. The coffee might be cold and taste of yesterday’s brew. Alas, this was not the case. And everyone emerged from the Café Sopa in Benafim with smiling faces and looking ready to walk – foiled again. Perhaps Paul’s Octopus would take it upon its many feet to ‘go walk-about’ and ruin the traditional start photograph. But, again my fond hopes for a little light merriment came to naught.
So off we set in quite orderly style, only 15 minutes behind schedule – not really enough on which I could make an issue. Nobody seemed to be wearing anything offensive (at least not outwardly), so there seemed little about which I could grumble as to the clothing styles of walkers – give or take a Tilly or two.
The walk through the back of ‘the quaint villages of the Benafims’ - B. Pequeno renowned for its decorative wells and springs - was, as usual delightful with walking conditions being as near perfect as one could wish – cool, clear blue skies and easy walking though the first 50 minutes was all on tarmac.
This scribe took the lead for the first hour until called to the ‘Headmaster’s study’ where he was warned that “at that pace we would be home by lunch”. Chastened, he retired to the rear of the column.
Is anyone more than 1.9 m.?
We followed the valley of the Ribeira de Alte and then into the village where we took the calçada route which is where, in past times, the ladies of the village created ropes and mats by pounding ‘esparto grass’ cut from the banks of the nearby river.
Maddie checks the luxury loo in Alte
Unusually, The Great Leader permitted an 11 o’clock coffee stop at Café Pôr de Sol, in Santa Margarida.
Those of us with suspicious minds thought this might have proven a ‘softener’ for more strenuous activity yet to come. But it proved not so.
For the walk continued through classic Algarvian countryside occasionally blessed with glorious orange blossom and with many varieties of wild flowers to be seen especially different species of cistus.
Lunch was taken by a stone wall that ran alongside the track and close to the windmills of Pico Alte at about 12.30.
On a minor road shortly before crossing the IP1 we spied a terrapin that was intent on crossing, perhaps bent on visiting its neighbours. Either way, it was captured by Janet, placed in an old plastic water bottle case, and from thence transported all the way home, its final destination being Summerfield Lake. By general agreement amongst ‘the dolls’ it was adjudged female and christened Dilly – though it was not revealed to the guys how the ladies had determined this intricate sexual discovery.
Some half an hour or so before returning to where we had left our cars at Pedreira and, whilst walking along the ridge way that overlooks the viaduct at the eastern end of the Barragem de Funcho Ian S noted Maddie eating something that she had picked up along the route. With some difficulty he managed to persuade her to give up the meaty piece. But, as subsequently became apparent, she must have already swallowed another chunk. On arrival back at our cars near Pedreira, Maddie was violently sick (perhaps saving her life), clearly having eaten poison. By extraordinary coincidence Lindsey’s Pilates teacher was at the place in tears, having lost her Scottie dog to poisoning in the same location only hours previously. Her second, Pointer dog had also been poisoned but was being resuscitated by the lady veterinary surgeon in Messines. Fortunately, both Lindsey and David use this same vet. So Maddie was rushed to Messiness for attention. All is now well and Maddie is saved. There is little we dog owners can learn from this as it is quite impossible to constrain a dog from picking up some poisoned meat whilst we walk along – just be alert to the possibility. At least, ‘All’s well that ends well’.
Descending from the ridge
So, now to revert to my original theme, the real trouble with this walk was that, try as I might, I could find nothing to grumble about. Everything went exactly to schedule, Myriam was her usual bubbly self, the dolls all looked delightful; none of the guys raised any great point of issue about which I could disagree and the planning was immaculate. The CB even rustled up a Bohemia beer or two (or three) in Messines which put him in right good humour.
We have ‘Bohemia’!!
In sum I can only conclude that it was a delightful walk and clearly one not suited to this disgruntled old codger, desperate for something about which I could grouse.
Groucho Mike
CB’s Comment:
I am delighted to report that as I am writing this, Maddy has apparently made a full recovery and will be walking with us again in the near future.
I haven’t yet received an Adoption Welfare Report from Janet on Dilly the Terrapin, but at the Cafe, she had revived, and was looking for some Bohemia!(Not Janet – the Terrapin!)
I have been instructed by the leader to report that a small part of the track recorded on the map above is erroneous, and we did not in fact cross the railway line at Bairro do Furadouro as it shows, but at the legitimate crossing further on! This photo is a mock up of what it might look like, had we done so!
This was such an agreeable and relatively painless stage that even I had time to ‘smell the roses’, except in this case they were mainly cistus, which, this year are more bountiful and larger than I have ever seen. I managed to get this photo of the very rare Beverly Cistus.
Joy in the middle with Teddie and Babs.
I am hoping later in the walk to get a picture of the even rarer Andrews Cistus!
As you are no doubt aware, most cistus have 5 petals and 5 dark spots. Occasionally however, genetic variations are found which may have no spots, or 6, 7, 8, and 9. On days 5 and 6 of this walk, I encouraged the counting of spots and we came up with these examples. Hopefully Lindsey, the authority on all thing botanical, will come up with some real explanations of these genetic mutations in her soon to be published ‘Flora of the Algarve Way’.
No spots Six spots
Seven spots Eight spots
And the winner so far – Nine spots!
“Pleasure for one hour, a bottle of wine. Pleasure for one year a marriage; but pleasure for a lifetime, a garden.”
“April comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.”
2 comments:
And now you have the proof that I am not an expert concerning flowers: I have finally discovered that the name is cistus! Thanks for enlightening me (and my apologies for any other mistakes I may have made in my blog.)
Maurice said,
I have copied the various spotted cistus flowers (numbers of dark marks)& Esme will take therm to her Art Class at Rustington, Sussex, for painting by her group!
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