APAPS 22.10: A Gallic Bolide, or the Unfamiliar Familiar.

Two week´s ago, I produced a lengthy and admittedly rather boring Blog, much of it dealing with abstruse queries raised by Paul. It elicited just one virtually incomprehensible comment on the Blog page, and nothing at all from Paul. I did, however, receive an email about it which included some finely judged literary criticism which is worth the quoting:-

“Having ploughed through all the tosh, I find it Much Ado About Nothing or the reversal of Parkinson's Law.....”

What can I say, other than to answer “touché” and cordially to invite her - for my critic is indeed a lady - to join in as a Blogger herself. Additional Bloggers are always needed.

Be that as it may, she and the rest of you will surely be delighted that this week´s Blog is very largely the contribution of a volunteer so that you don´t have to put up with very much of my waffle. (My critic and my volunteer shall both stay nameless so as to protect their identities.)

Said volunteer writes:-

“The day dawned grey, flat and boring, the faint glow of light inside the café indicated human activity but door and shutters remained firmly closed. 

“Eventually, the cheerful, in the coffee-free circumstances, conversations between WAGS prompted Donna Fernanda to open her arms, door and windows to those in need of caffeine… All with a cheerful smile!

 

“Things then livened up a tad as Evel Janet Knievel roared in on her Gallic bolide and demonstrated the most amazing judgement in parking at speed in front of a stack of rather solid palettes; remarkable!

Precisely parked

but he is not impressed

“Of course, the purists demanded that she moved her car and while they were at it they also demanded that the Frogmobile be parked in more parallel universe/fashion to other cars: we obtemperated rather than be exterminated…

Parking perfection

The Six Starters

“The small but perfectly formed group then made for the hills, accompanied by a joyful and very loud chorus of dogs of all sizes, breeds and coloraturas; “bloody noisy things!” someone said.

 

“The tracks and the hills were drab and almost uninviting under the featureless grey shy; half-heartened efforts were made at photography, the ‘spark’ just was not there. 

“Nonetheless, it DOES appear that years of training –cleverly disguised as grumbling, grouching and grizzling at the leader- were beginning to bear fruit: not only did we eschew a reasonably(?) close trig-point but on at least TWO occasions, the alluring and tempting steep climbs were ignored in favour of much gentler slopes…

Taking the Low Road

and again

Mark these words: another ten years and we’ll have the Leader licked into shape, good and proper!

Distant reservoir looks very low 

 “The cool temperatures were a relief from the searing heat experienced only a few outings previously and there was even a hint of drizzle for a few seconds. 

but the T-shirt competition is over and done with

The rumour is that the electrician was Australian

“Back at the café, we regrouped with the non-walking-but-mostly-eating brigade: In addition to Rod and Paul, it was very good to be met there by Claire and Terry sans Becky; Claire made sure that the few scraps of toast left over were carefully wrapped in tissues: one must never forget one’s dog!

Figs, grapes, and a few thoughts.

“As ever the food was plentiful and the fruit was fresh and tasty: definitely worth an ‘uptick’ in Trip Advisor!

“And so, over to John for the proper story of that outing…”

Nothing much to add except the Track and the Statistics,

 to remark that, with all the recent felling and removal of timber from the hills, the familiar tracks had now all become unfamiliar, somewhat disorientating if you are the leader, and to ask if any of you know what our contributor meant by "Gallic Bolide."

During the breakfast, Yves presented Paul with an official looking brass plate carrying the injunction "Save Water - Shower With A Friend."

Paul is taking bookings for his shower room now so, if you want to do your bit, get your application in soonest before there are queues outside.

Next week, no APAPS walk or breakfast, but the COWS are looking for members.

And we close with another piece of music from our ongoing theme of  moonlight.

 

 

COWS 1/2022: One Fine Day

 

Apologies for hacking a space for a post from John's excellent APAPS Blog, but as you will see it is all his fault. A warning here: Don't hurriedly scroll below for lurid and lascivious pics like the pic above which is merely to entice you in to the body of the post.

   This had been brewing for several weeks after I coined the name COWS, for those of us in Lagos who were fond of skinny dipping or even an early morning stroll in the cool air bath that is the strip of beach next to the sea at Meia Praia.  This escalated into a sub unit of the APAPS walkers, spread by the usual gossip channels. I may have inflamed the cause by turning up to join one of the APAPs walks with my silhouette in the low sun walking west to unite with the group.

      

    My rather becoming skin coloured cuecas, had just arrived from China a few days before, and they caught the attention of some of the more degenerate walkers, until the overdressed troop had closed up and turned away in disappointment!  I dressed in my shorts again depriving the ladies of my generously rounded buttocks and we continued the walk.

    A simple prank but it must have caught the imagination of the suppressed textiles who have nade the Algarve their home but have yet to really invest body and soul.

  The incident was politely blogged by John, but then the WhatsApps and breakfast banter began.

On this particular Wednesday, John was unable to arrange a walk or breakfast for the APAPS, but hinted in the call circular that 'to lessen your undoubted disappointment at this, you could always join Paul's COWS walks. He would be sure to give you a warm welcome.!'

     I duly thanked him for the thought, and as I expected, with an outbreak of repressed Victorian modesty, only Myriam and myself turned up. I am still waiting for the COWS to come home, but not holding my breath.!

    A walk demands a blog, if only to fill a gaping blank in the continuity, and so for what it is worth, here is the account of Myriam and myself keeping up the honour of the COWS.

Authors note: At this point Myriam has stamped her tiny besandalled foot down and forbidden me to publish any of the multitude of nature shots we took along the way. The rule is inviolable: Unless you have joined the COWS and completed one naturist walk then you are excluded from the inner secrets. The first walk you do with the COWS is designated your reborn Birthday, and of course you must wear your birthday suit.

   We set off from home to our normal walk start near Bar Quim,  I thought this might be an omen, but sadly no one else was in sight., nor was there a real starter photo. I tried a selfie of the walkers but it came out unprofessionally, through lack of practice.

We continued as if it was a private beach,  The stroll to the end, paddling along the shore and arriving at the far end for a dip, was NSFW.

       Returning to the car, we had decided to take the chance with a small group,to visit Cafe Odeon for the best FEB in town.  As an added treat we parked near the Cat Hotel to have a cruise to the other side on the Vai e Vem.

With an onshore wind and an incoming tide, it took a lot of skill to cross, hence the oblique approach to the landing pier.

Once onboard, Myriam started flirting with the crew because she had been unable indulge in her favourite hobby in the absence of Rod and John.

We sauntered over to Cafe Odeon and to our dismay,, despite being the Peak of the Tourist season, they were closed.

   Many alternatives sprang to mind. and eventually we settled on continuing the walk up to Cafe Bom Gosto near the skate park and Mini Golf, where we procured a massive and fully loaded  Tosta Mista.

Luckily we reached the cafe after the scheduled end of my Intermittent fasting period and we rated the TM's as excellent.. From there we walked home, took a naturist shower with extras , and later drove over to the Cat Hotel and collected my car in the midday heat.

To conclude, if you are still with me, a wonderful little ditty from an Englishman of True Genius, Noel COW(S)ard

APAPS 22.9: The Signs They Are A-Changing

 

Before we get on to discussing  APAPS walk 22.9 at Poço Frito, there is some “Housekeeping” to attend to, boring although this may be to some of us. (You can skip this stuff if you don´t want to plough through it)

In the Comments section of APAPS Blog 22.8, which was the one about alfarrobas and arrobas, Paul a Pé had waxed lyrical, or at least lengthily, asking several questions and challenging me to check the facts.

This is what he wrote:

First:-

As Google did not seem to know of the real APAPS, I delved into Blogger and saw that the Blog I was reading was entitled WAPAPS 2016 - 2022. Not sure when the 'W' was dropped, but I went back to the first one I could find, APAPS 1: What´s In A Name ? or APAPS begins again. which can be found at https://draft.blogger.com/blog/post/edit/preview/3695417294945570434/6137167831772377736
There I discovered the Meaning of APAPS,and why John was not fazed by the replies he received to his mention previous walks. Over to you to fact check, John.

I was confused by this. What facts and why?

And then Paul again:-

Facts! Why should they get in the way of a good blog?. No, as far as the comments go, we must be factual accurate and fastidious. I was merely asking you to confirm that what I wrote was true, and not something I had imagined. Also, the first blog from August 2016 mentions 'resurrecting' the WAPAPS. Were there any previous walks under the WAPAPS Banner, and were they blogged? If so, where?

And another thing: why was the last blog post on this 2016 blog about the Christmas lunch on 9.12.2015 at Bistro Rainha which I don't recall, posted almost exactly 6 years after the event in Dec 2021, consisting of these two short sentences
"18 walked for 2 1/2 hours; then 24 lunched at Bistro Rainha. The scribe´s thanks to Yves for some very professional photos."
And where were Yves´ very professional photos?”

Still Confused? I bet you are. I am. Anyway, here goes.

The explanation of APAPS, which started 94 WAPAPS blogs ago is “Amigos dos Pequeno- Almoços Peripatéticos de Silves.” Probably not grammatically correct but hey! Let it be.

We started our breakfast walks on 29^th July 2014 but it wasn´t until the start of the third breakfast season that we started to blog them. This was because up until then Blogging , be it AWWs or whatever, had been very much Paul´s personal territory onto which  we did not dare trespass even if we had known how to do it, which we didn´t. Then, gradually, he had begun to admit some of us into the esoteric secrets of Blogging and let us try our hand at it. In APAPS seasons 1 and 2, we had contented ourselves with taking silly photographs of participants´ legs and we had the odd clandestine breakfast, (identities redacted for the sake of prudence). 

Guess whose?

So APAPS Blogs did not begin until 2016.

The Christmas lunch at Bistro Rainha on 9.12.2015 was an AWW lunch, nothing to do with APAPS. There was a walk from Casinhas that morning which I don´t remember particularly although it´s possible I was the Leader. -here are the Starters - 

 and here are a few of Yves´ photos from the lunch. Paul was not there, nor were Myriam and Hazel.

The only explanation that I can give of why the blog of that event now consists of two short sentences and no photographs, and why it now appears to have been published in December 2021, is that the AWW blog is now open to a lot of different contributors, one of whom may well have looked at the original blog and then have mis-edited it and re-published it in the wrong place. Thus history gets re-written and distorted.

End of “Housekeeping” spiel.

A lot to read in all of that, so I will not need to write so much about our latest walk but, first, an explanation about the title to this week´s piece. For the past couple of years, I have been referring to the establishment at Poço Frito as Café Martins. Not very observant of me, because in fact, for the past year or more, after it had a make-over, it now refers to itself as Snack Bar Martins. It´s a wonder that some of us have not got lost trying to find a place that nominally no longer exists. In the old days, the place was a bit shabby, but spruced up, it looks much better.

Then

Now

Presumably, a Snack Bar , on the Michelin Scale of things, is one grade above a mere Café, so I shall have to be more careful with my description of it from now on and pay attention to the signage.

More signage. Poço Frito now has one of those new bus stop signs that are appearing all over the place

and the sign for Caravela is still pointing determinedly 90 degrees out in the wrong direction 

Who pays for a café upgrade? Not the tenants, I suppose, who are at best temporary. Maybe the coffee suppliers do? And who is, or was, this Martins fellow and what did he do to be commemorated in this way? The present tenants are the third lot we have known since eating there and their name is certainly not Martins. Was he a Local Hero or a Resistance Fighter? Rod will know.

And now, at last, we can come to the walk. A coolish and overcast morning. The Leader, as ever, had to possess himself with patience, waiting for the ever-talkative group to join him for the Starter Picture.

The contents of the numerous beer bottles behind him had not been consumed by him while he waited, although they could well have been given the time it took for people to get organised. In the words of the song, "Oh, when will they ever learn?" But I mustn´t start being provocative, must I ! No, the Snack Bar was still shut at that stage of the morning so no coffees to start with, nor beers neither.

Picture duly taken, before we set off, Yves gave us an update on Terry Ames´ medical situation. So we were a sombre and very thoughtful group as we began our walk.

An uneventful walk it was too. Familiar tracks, with some minor variations. 

Good to have Janet back with us after several months absence.

Fertile fields and their farmer.

Some animal life. Goats and their fierce watch dog.

Are they pets, with their red collars round their necks ?

A static rocking horse

The photographers then took a sudden interest in old trees, to good effect.

And Yves took his life in his hands to photograph a speeding train.

The Track, and all the Statistics you could possibly wish for

Back at Snack Bar Martins just before 10 .00, we found Paul and Rod already there, eager for their breakfast and/or coffee.

Compared to the previous breakfast there, there was more food on our plates this time, thanks to Maria who had had a quiet word with the proprietress about quantities.

After the noise of the various conversations had reached record decibels, things quietened down a bit and we were treated to a full scale Chinese Tea Ceremony with dry flowers magically growing in the tea pot.

Tea, not red wine.

Tea, not white wine either

Myriam was presented with a portrait of herself by Yves.

And he had the last word in T-shirts.

Shurley shome mishtake?

To conclude, here is one more in our musical theme these past few weeks, which has been that of the moon. This week it has been the Sturgeon Moon. Nothing whatsoever to do with the uncrowned queen of Scotland but apparently an excellent time to catch the fish of the same name. A difficult image for us amateurs to photo but there are some excellent shots available on the net for which our thanks.

And that theme reminded me of this week´s tune which was one which my mother had on a 78 rpm shellac record given to her along with an old fashioned wind-up gramophone by an aunt of hers. The sound came out of a His Master´s Voice type horn, and the needles were little chips of sharpened bamboo. If you wanted to increase the volume, you could substitute metal ones for the bamboo needles and, if you wanted to increase the volume to the maximum possible, you would open two little doors at the front of the gramophone´s wooden cabinet to let some more sound escape. Technology as it was. More moon music next time. Meanwhile.....