APAPS 19.8: Pushing Off Promptly From Pescadores

The evening before, there had been an email rumble of discontent about our still having a 7 a.m. start. But when I arrived at Retiro dos Pescadores just as the sun rose, I was pleasantly surprised to find 4 people were there before me and there was no rebellion. 

Coffee in hand, Paul was seen scanning the horizon for the first signs of Lo the Hunter.

All there was by way of protest was some passing remark about a certain Caecus seeing no reason to get out of bed just because the sun was up, but that was all. Later on I received this picture on my phone.

I didn´t really kow what to make of that but at the back of my mind was the thought that in Latin “Caecus” means “blind.” A little bit of research has since revealed that there had been a Roman patrician by the name of Appias Claudius Caecus “The Blind” (340 – 273 BC) who had been responsible for some very large construction projects in Rome - buildings and roads - and he was too proud to appear before the Senate when summoned to explain some of the expenditure so he pretended to be blind. And, if you know your  Appian Way, he´s the very man.
Any way, there we were all there in good time time ready for a very relaxed Starter photograph at the appointed hour.

The Starters: (Front row) Paul , John H. TerryA with Becky. (Second Row) Myriam, Jill, Ingrid, and Dina.
Note the laying on of hands in the back row.

The plan for the day was to repeat, in reverse and in full, the 1st of August walk (APAPS 19.5) which we had had to curtail for various reasons. That day, we had done a minimal 5.65 kms; this one today was going to be a little bit longer than that . 
The first stretch was comparatively easy. Trees were beginning to recover from last year´s fires.

Then came the hills.

And so it was, as I struggled up a particularly unforgiving hill, that my thoughts turned to a recent article in The Daily Telegraph about a new scientific breakthrough headlined:-

“Science strides forward with invention of ‘robo-shorts’.  Robotic clothing could help the frail to walk again, while also giving soldiers a leg up on the battlefield.”    

In brief, this article was about the development of what they call an “ecosuit” which apparently is a pair of shorts  developed by the US military to help soldiers patrol for lengthy periods in “rugged and uphill terrain while wearing bulky equipment”.  The device works through a series of electronically activated pulleys and thigh wraps attached to a belt that helps lift the legs at the hip joint, making each step slightly easier. And, if it can help soldiers, what about us Walkers?
Let´s read on.
 “In treadmill tests, the shorts reduced effort in walking by 9.3 per cent and in running by 4 per cent – equivalent to a person walking or running with up to 17lb less weight. Sometimes soldiers on patrol must carry up to 100lb in equipment. And as the shorts can work on varying gradients, they could also be harnessed by climbers to help them uphill, or to help the elderly climb the stairs at home….. Experts believe that the shorts will open the door to implants that can activate muscles without the need for an external exosuit.”

Now I am not or one minute suggesting that any of the APAPS, or indeed any of the WAGS, are actually frail or do need of help in getting a leg up, over or whatever. Nor am I advocating that we should even contemplate running (Heaven forfend!) but there are surely possibilities for us.Wouldn´t it be nice to get up hill with 9 per cent less effort? We might even increase our average moving speeds from 4.2 kph to 4.8 kph and still find it enjoyable.

We do rely on one of our number in particular to keep us abreast of all the latest trends in walking gear, and so it´s a bit surprising that he hasn´t already told us that he is investigating this scientific breakthrough. Maybe, after his forthcoming visit to the U S of A, he will be able to give us more detail. Pricing for apiece of kit so beneficial will surely not be an issue, but there are other considerations. Some of us, whether out of modesty or a wish to protect our delicate skins,  do not habitually wear shorts; will there be a hard- wearing but fashionable long-trouser version? And the strapping on of all those “electronically activated pulleys and thigh wraps” could threaten delays to starting times. Electronics!  - how heavy will the batteries be and will they last a whole two hours?  One wouldn´t want to be faced with a cataclysmic loss of power just when taking on the final hill before breakfast. We shall have to await further input.

Meanwhile we carried on climbing. As we did so, the Hunter did finally manage to catch the Sultan´s Turret in a Noose of Light, or as my French translation of the Rubaiyat has it:-
“Le soleil a dressé l´échelle du matin.
“Le roi du jour a mis dans sa coupe du vin.”

i.e. the sun caught the upper hillsides with its light.

The rest of the walk was fairly straight forward. All those initial ascents were naturally rewarded with substantial long downhills as we neared home. One thing that puzzled us a bit as we walked was the recent crop of “Passagem Proibida” notices on quite  a number of the tracks. 

One wonders who they are meant for and what they intend. However, as none of the notices quoted any law or decree, and as we are all law-abiding citizens, we paid them no heed.

What had been noticeable all morning that Dina and Myriam were always lagging behind, deep in conversation. One of my confidential sources told me that they were having “uma conversa de treta.” Sounds quite elegant. In English English, that might translated as “prattling away:”  in American English, the far cruder “talking bulls**t.”  However you take it, they kept falling behind and did slow the group down somewhat - see Statistics later.

Then, there were further delays. Down on the valley floor, we came across an ugly sight – a whole pile of building rubbish just dumped by the track side. 

Absolute eyesore. Difficult to conceive of why anybody would drive two or three kms into the woods just to dump stuff like that. 

                                                 The Committee Ladies

The ladies formed a committee on the spot and searched the pile for incriminating evidence of the perpetrator. As a result, a decision was taken to refer the matter to the authorities.
See Postscript One

Nearing base camp, we passed the house with the old lady who had been photographed by Yves last year. 

Myriam and Dina stopped to talk to her and were invited inside. They must have been there for twenty minutes because some of us were on our second beer and already sitting down to breakfast before they finally made it to Pescadores. For what they were talking about,......
 See Postscript Two.

The Pescadores breakfast was well up to standard, with lots of toast and absolutely oodles of bacon, plus grapes and large figs courtesy Senor Bento.

The Track

The Statistics
Total distance: 9.23kms. Total Time: 2 hrs 49 mins.
Moving time: 2 hrs 14 mins. So 35 mins just standing around.
Moving Average: 4.00 kph, well below our usual 4.2 kph.
Ascent: per Leader´s SatMap: 432 metres. (Per Viewranger: 292 metres.  per Garmin: 284 metres )
Unbroken eggs: 14.

Postscript One
Good morning, John,
I am forwarding Dina's to letter to the Câmara de Silves. She sent it on Wednesday afternoon. Very efficient!
Photos to follow as rejected by your mailbox because of size
    Myriam
Sent from Mailbird
------ Forwarded Message --------
From: Dina Peres <anid43@gmail.com>
Date: 21/08/2019 18:24:43
Subject: LIXO abandonado em caminhos pedestres no concelho de Silves
To: gabinete.presidente@cm-silves.pt
Cc: Myriam (Gmail) <myriam.lo@gmail.com>, Ingrid Bonte <ingridmbonte@gmail.com>, Almargem <almargem@mail.telepac.pt>
Hoje, numa caminhada com um grupo de estrangeiros pela zona Nordeste de Silves, relativamente perto do café Retiro dos Pescadores, Pedreira, exactamente no ponto de coordenadas N 37 graus 13' 25'', W 8 graus 24' 29'' (N 37graus 13,392', W  8graus 24,283'), ficámos bastante preocupados e desiludidos com o lixo de obras, essencialmente ripas velhas de madeira, que tinha sido abandonado.
Com vista a denunciar esta situação anexamos fotos comprovativas, numa tentativa de melhorar o AMBIENTE.
Também tivemos oportunidade de encontrar em vários caminhos que percorremos a Sinalética que pode ser identificada em algumas das fotos anexadas. Pretendemos confirmar sobre a sua legalidade.
Com os melhores cumprimentos
Postscript Two
John,
As requested, here is a very brief account. Dina has already contacted the Centro da Saúde. She will call the social services tomorrow. She has started the ball rolling.
"Whenever we walked past the house (the name?) with the glorious bougainvillea on the way back to Retiro dos Pescadores, we stopped to chat with the 91-year-old Dona Maria Reis at the gate. Last Wednesday, she called us from the front door and asked us to get through the garden. She was wobbly in her gait and complained of a pain on her hip and said there was a growth. After some more chatting, we understood that she is the sole carer of her handicapped son who spends most the time in bed. She is worried about her pain and repeated that she needed help. The social welfare, Santa Casa de Misericórdia delivers food to her daily, but does nothing else. Dina took note of her name and address and offered to contact the social services for info. Then we, as private individuals, will see what we can do. 
This is, sadly, not an uncommon case of old parents looking after the younger generation with very limited resources!!"
Myriam.


Good work , Dina.

We close with a quotation from our old friend Appias Claudius Caecus who was apparently a bit of a writer as well as being a road builder.

“Quisque faber suae fortunae.”
(Every man is the architect of his own fortune.)

APAPS 19.7; Dry As Dust At Aguas Belas

Last week´s blog achieved the rare distinction of attracting absolute zero comment. One can only suppose that anyone who did read it is now too deeply immersed in that 1000 page, 426,100 word, single sentence book  “Ducks Newburyport” to have time for anything else.
Ah well! Keep it brief this week.
An addition to the list of absentees this week was Ingrid. She had damaged her foot by kicking a stone. It is not clear if said stone was asking for it because it had offended her in some way or if she did it just because, like Mount Everest, it was there. Anyway, the results were very painful, for Ingrid. Fique bom logo.

The majority of the day´s walkers started off with an early coffee at Encherim´s Café Prato, thus threatening the promptness of the 07.00 hrs starting time. Excuses for cutting it fine included “coffee too hot” “coffee too weak” “queue for the loo” “coffee too slow”.but in the end they made it.

We had a reasonable turn-out of nine, with Dona Dina returning to the fray, visitor Claire Ames fresh from a month´s intensive yoga training in India, and two guests of Paul and Myriam from Hong Kong, Charlie and Polly, boosting the head count.

The Starters

JohnH, Paul, Myriam, Charlie, Polly, Claire, Dina, Jill, TerryA with Becky.

The Track
First, brought to you by the magic of ViewRanger, is Paul´s track looking remarkably like a startled chicken

and secondly, the Leader´s official SatMap.

The Statistics
Total distance: 7 18 kms. Total time: 2 hrs 07 mins.
Moving time: 1 hr 46 mins.
Average moving speed: 4.00 kph
Ascent: 254 metres.
Eggs consumed: 18.

As is now habitual, we set off at precisely 07.07 hrs. The Leader decided that we had better get the hilly bit out off the way first thing, so almost immediately there we were, scrambling up a steep hillside up onto the ridge. That took a bit of doing but, even when we had made it up there, there wasn´t much let-off from climbing because that ridge consists of some considerable updulations. 

Pleased to meet you

It was almost 3 kms into the walk before things eased off when  we could have a long gentle downhill towards the valley floor. Interesting how the group spread out on this slope. Five went racing ahead, Charlie and Polly leading, and two really dawdled taking their time at the back, which meant that seven of the nine missed overhearing a fascinating conversation between the middle two about the origins and meaning of the word “sesquipedalian”, a word apparently much favoured by The Honourable Member for the Eighteenth Century, as Mr Jacob Rees Mogg is known. We will elucidate at the end of this blog. (For the benefit of those readerswho are not transfixed by current UK politics, Mr JRM is British Member of Parliament.)

Half way down this  downhill, Paul discovered a sort of hybrid horseshoe, part iron and part plastic, clearly designed for some hypochondriac horse. A collector´s item, so he collected it.

Down on the valley floor after only one hour of the walk, we had some liquorice

and then did a small extra loop to add a little bit of time and distance to the outing.

It was very dry. 

There was a search for some carob beans  in order to show Polly that what she had eaten the previous day had not been carrot.

It was very dry. 

We passed through the deep gully where Hazel had fallen in last year (in the rainy season). It too was very dry. We passed an old cisterna under excavation  and repair. 

12 feet down in the hole, there was some damp mud.

It continued very dry until we got to Pará e Fica, where the first mouthful of shandy went down extremely well. For some reason , the breakfast service was a bit slow, but the food when it did come was up to the usual standard and Ana did come out of the kitchen and favour us with a big smile. 

For the second week running, we were joined by those two coffee afficionados, Rod and Charlie Frew. Naturally enough, there was a lot of exchange of views about the Hong Kong situation.

Postprandially, some Horta Esperança grapes were consumed.

Rod told Paul what the hybrid horseshoe was all about but, as I couldn´t hear what was said, you dear reader, will like me have to remain unenlightened for the time being. Paul then tried to remember a rhyme about the loss of a horseshoe nail, often thought to be about  the Battle of Bosworth Field (1485) and  Richard the Third et al. However, it seems that Richard fell off his horse, not because it lost a nail and a shoe, but because it got stuck in the mud. Then poor old Richard got caught because he couldn´t run very fast in his armour, was killed and ended up stuck in a car park in Leicester for the next 530 years. When he eventually got out, it needed an Act of Parliament to get National Car Parks  to waive their car park fees. And the rhyme, more of a proverb actually, was around well before the battle.
Be all that as it may, this is one version of the proverb:-

For want of a nail the shoe was lost,
for want of a shoe the horse was lost,
for want of a horse the knight was lost,
for want of a knight the battle was lost,
for want of a battle the kingdom was lost.
So a kingdom was lost—all for want of a nail.

And that word “sesquipedalian”? 
It means a word "having many syllables” or, to be brief,  “long.”

Suitable therefore to close with a Shakespearian quotation:-

“My liege, and madam, to expostulate
What majesty should be, what duty is,
What day is day, night night, and time is time,
Were nothing but to waste night, day, and time;
Therefore, since brevity is the soul of wit,
And tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes,
I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.”

Polonius, Hamlet Act 2 Scene 2 


Far be it from this blogger ever to indulge in such sesquipedalian loquaciousness.

APAPS 19.6: Hard Core at Poço Frito

Continuity of thought and theme being central to a Blogger´s modus operandi, I pick up on two items from last week´s issue. The first was that of the beauty treatment to be undergone by Paul and Myriam. The details of what they were about to go through when this “Before “ picture was taken.

Was it to be the full face lift, or just a touch of the botox, or maybe some discreet liposuction at waist level?  It turned out that what was actually involved was some eminently sensible skin treatment. How effective? Well, you can judge from this “After” shot.

The second item was the query about  who that female writer, sorry, lady  writer was who had just written a whole novel consisting of a single sentence. You may recall that Antje brought this up:-
“ A lady (am I allowed to use a gender) just published a whole novel consisting of one sentence. Being a WAG,  might I be allowed to forget the name.
I do know that we walked 8.2 km today around Porto, fortified on route by port wine at regular intervals.
Love Antje”

and I asked if anybody could remedy Antje´s lapse of memory. Of course -  par for the course – nobody did, so I was obliged to do some research myself. I knew that various novelists had written non-stop, stream of consciousness sort of stuff over the years, Joyce being a prime example, but a whole novel of just the one sentence? Surely that´s stretching it a bit. ( Joyce, incidentally, not a female but the Irishman James Joyce. We came across his name just the other week when we were in Trieste where apparently he lived for some time, and the Trieste-ese are for some reason very proud that he did.)
Among the fascinating stuff I dug up was the information that an Irishman called Mike McCormack has just won a prize of £10,000 or so for his novel called Solar Bones. This 51-year-old Irish writer’s book has a single sentence across 224 pages. The single sentence novel is set on All Souls Day in November 2008 and follows the recollections of a man who’s briefly brought back from the dead. They don´t say how many words he used. But he´s a he, so not Antje´s bird.

For a long time, what was regarded as the longest sentence in English Literature was one of 13,955 words in a book called The Rotter´s Club by one Jonathan Coe. But Coe was rather outdone by a Pole called Jerzy Andrzejewski wrote a book, in Polish, called The Gates of Paradise which was 40,000 words long and consisted of just two sentences, the second of which contains only 5 words “And they marched all night.” Why did he put a full stop after word 39,995 in the first sentence? But neither of these two fellows can be the person on Antje´s mind either.
However, finally, I stumbled across a news item about the 2019 Booker Prize long list, among which is a book by a lady writer called Lucy Ellman, who I guess could be the writer Antje was thinking of. Apparently this American-born writer now lives in Edinburgh, so with a bit of  perseverance, Antje may even get to meet her there. Ellman´s  book is  called “Ducks Newburyport” and consists of one single sentence running over 1000 pages. It´s the interior monologue of an Ohio housewife ruminating on everything from dinner party menus to the dark side of Trump´s America, a never-ending stream of consciousness written without paragraphs or full stops. From the sound of that, I don´t think that I would not want to run the risk of being an Ohio husband. The 426,100 word sentence (that word-count rather hits Jerzy A for six) is broken only a handful of times, to quote The Daily Telegraph, by a parallel story written from the perspective of a mountain lion. So,well yes, naturally, like, I mean to say, like…...
The Booker Prize judges call the book “extraordinary” and “like nothing you´ve ever read before.” Perhaps that last bit should have been “ like nothing you will ever read.” 
Even if Ellman does not win the prize, she must surely be the longest sentence record holder now.
But the prize is not won yet. To find out which book does, you will have to wait to early October. There are 12 other contestants on the long list, one of whom is the rather better-known Margaret Attwood, who has submitted a sequel to her novel, the original “The Handsmaid´s Tale” and that, rather nicely, leads us back to the proper subject of this blog which is APAPS Walk 19.6 – I bet you were wondering how I could segue that – because the TV series of the Handsmaid´s Tale based on her novel just happened to be one of the conversational items on the day´s walk.
So to The Walk

The hard core that assembled at Café Martins were just six. To those regulars already out of action was added Dina, whose car had had a contretemps with another vehicle at a roundabout. This Café is always open early so Paul managed to get his essential coffee starter.

Starters (from the left):- Myriam, JohnH, Ingrid, Jill, TerryA with Becky, and Paul; to the right, an uininterested non-participant.

Nothing unusual about our route, which we have done several times in the past. Myriam was staggered by the greenery of the view –until she realised she was looking at a golf course. 

We noted that work continues by fits and starts on some ugly and possibly impractical villas at Caravela.

For once, the male-female balance was even, and the Tilley count was in the majority even before adding in the pseudo-Tilley.

As for us, steady progress along our track was made until at last Ingrid called for a banana stop.

Secret signals were exchanged - nobody knows why.

or what they mean.

At about the half-way point in the Leader´s estimation, there was some debate about distances because Paul´s Garmin tracking device was showing that we had already done over 10 kms at about 16 kph. The Leader was not convinced, so little so that he threw in a small extra loop just to add distance.

This figure looked familiar to some.  

This week´s question: does it remind you of anyone?

As I noted , there was some discussion about the TV series The Handsmaid´s Tale but Myriam and Ingrid were clear in their judgement that the follow-on sequels are rubbish. What will they think of Ms Attwood´s new novel? Janet may have read it already.

We returned to base in good time for breakfast and found the table neatly prepared for us, with an extra of crackers, cheese and jam. 

Substantial bifanas for those who took that option and, for the traditionalists, ample servings of bacon and scrambled egg, plus fresh tomatoes and onions, and adequate buttered toast, gave us, at Euros 5 per head inclusive of drinks, a reasonable deal.

We were joined for coffees by Rod and Charlie Frew, and there was some rather gloomy talk about the situation in Hong Kong.

Now, since we didn´t write very much about the walk itself, here are some passing thoughts on The Importance of Walking.

Walking can add minutes to your life. This enables you at 85 years old to spend an additional 5 months in a nursing home at €15,000 per month.
My grandfather started walking five miles a day when he reached 60 years old. He´s now 85 and we don´t know the hell where he´s got to.
I like long walks..... especially when they´re taken by people who annoy me.
I have to walk early in the morning, before my brain figures out exactly what it is that I am doing.
To lose weight, I joined a gym last year and spent about €9000. Haven´´t lost even half a kilo. Apparently, you have to go there.
"Exercise" a dirty word. Every time I find myself using it, I wash my mouth out, with chocolate.
The only good reason for exercising every day is so that, when you die, they´ll say "Well, he does look good, doesn´t he."
If you are going to try cross-country skiing, start with a small country.
 You could run these thoughts over to your friends. But careful, take it easy now; just email it to them.

The Track

and The Statistics

Total distance: 7.60 kms. Total time: 2 hrs 17 mins.
Moving time: 1 hr 48 mins.  Moving average: 4.2 kph.
Ascent:   141 metres.
Eggs consumed: 12.

Post-Walk Extra

After the walk, Myriam and Ingrid followed the Leader back to his house, ostensibly to pick long beans as instructed by Hazel, but in reality to check that he was not getting up to anything untoward in her absence.