APAPS 23.10: Alarms and Excursions: Pit Stops and Fig Stops.

 

The alarm in question belongs to Janet. Rather like "the curious incident of the dog in the night-time" in the Sherlock Holmes story (what was curious was that the dog did not bark), so equally curiously, Janet´s alarm did not alarm, so she rang me at 7 a.m. to say she couldn´t make it. Never mind, there´s always another time.

Anyway, lots of good pictures from several contributors (many thanks), some photos from the archive and, as always, Yves´ scintillating report - he assures me that "all the swelling myth-takes are intentional" - so let´s get to it.

Yves writes:-

The day dawned, quite shyly: the weather looked rather uncertain in the East; sunshine hardly pierced the gloom of heavy clouds; still common sense prevailed and the clouds behaved themselves.

Setting the camera up is easy: the difficult bit is remembering to pick it up afterwards

Lady Starters only

Plus two

The small but perfectly formed group of Walkers were arranged into a passable if slightly unruly mob for the Leader’s camera benefit. Several voices were heard reminding him not to leave it behind: they are learning! And so we set off, light of foot and heavy of bag, towards the first of several gentle hills. Gentle, they had to be: early in the day is no time for Seniors and Near-Seniors to exert themselves unduly. Alas, nobody had told the Leader and he selected the nearest climb with his usual aplomb; some looked up and raised eyebrows. (Don´t know what the problem was; total ascent for the day was only 190 metres.)

His pace was strong; he’d evidently had his Weetabix, or his oats, before leaving home; some say that he puts salt on his ‘porridge’, others contend that the secret ingredient is piri-piri… Whatever it is, he reached the top of the slope with great speed and gusto: faster than his shadow that just lay there full-length, flat on the path and panting.

The sun eventually won its skirmish with the clouds and ‘Les Girls’ kindly enjoyed a breather under the pretext of posing for pictures.

Going down is tricky

Do we take the low road or the high road?

Some took the high road

Daniela and Hazel took the low road

Once re-united again, we passed through the narrow valley once known as Lingerie Lane (according to Google Maps the area is actually called Roupa Branca) where those with long memories recalled the delicately coloured pair of smalls that once decorated the hedges there.

Two pictures from the Archive: 31.08.2016

Then further on, the valley had been cleared of many trees and Yves, toujours le gentilhomme, helped the ladies along by removing much debris from their path

Is that debris or is he blowing his own Alpenhorn?

The Leader was still marching ahead at a ferocious pace until he came across a very imposing piece of heavy machinery casually parked in the middle of a junction. 

Big, smelling of diesel fuel and definitely not easy to steal despite its missing ‘doors’: some clever Forestry worker had placed a very cunning anti-theft cable device on one of the huge wheels!

 ‘Now, just you try, you marauding WAGS!’

By now, the pace dictated ever so courteously by the Leader was beginning to take its toll on the gentler half of the party: the gap from front to rear was increasing alarmingly; indeed, we lost sight of Les Girls altogether! Fortunately, sound travels rather well in the hills and we were reassured of their distant presence thanks to some well-known voices; patience, friend, they’ll soon be here! Breakfast will still be served, even if it is a brunch now…

Les Girls appear at last

This enforced separation meant that the blogger had very little material to report on; no matter, the photographic record from Les Girls made up for it and then some! Not only that but they also displayed a lot of initiative: seemingly innocent questions like: ‘Where does this track go?’ were nothing but a cunning plan to avoid steep-ish hills by circling them at a leisurely pace on flat paths… They are learning, for sure! Trust the Leader if you must! Trust your instincts can be much nicer…

Be that as it may, and with the Leader muttering dark oaths in a foreign dialect, the Walkers reached the ‘canal’: downhill to the cars from there! Yes and no: having consumed their last food at some ungodly time earlier in the week, it felt like- Les Girls were quite partial to ‘nibbles on the go’: passing fig-trees were providential: just as a Murray** must never be ‘hurrayed’, fresh figs from the branches deserve to be enjoyed at a respectful pace: select the ripe ones, peel parts off gently, prize the meaty fruit open to reveal the goodness within and consume with delectation! 

The accompanying sound-track of satisfaction among the feminish crowd did cause one or two field-workers to look up from their toil, only to dismiss it all as ‘funny furren wimmin’ but in Portuguese words.

Around a bend in the canal, we came across a small ‘bridge’ and this snapper’s idea of posing a young lady above the water fell on deaf ears; instead she insisted that she would take the picture! Cunning! I tell thee, brother! Barely had the Blogger sat on the ledge that he was assaulted from behind, nearly strangled and almost pushed into the water! Not only cunning but fiendishly hiding their murderous intents, were Les Girls! 

The day was saved when the Leader reminded everyone that the kitchen would close for lunch promptly at 11.00…

Myriam´s caption "Trendy way of carrying a rucksack."

(No, I´m not trendy; the bag is simply inefficient.)

All that remained to be done was to demonstrate to the amazed audience how the canal disappears under a valley before climbing up the slope on the other side: it does! It twuly and weally does! Are there teams of hamsters pedalling their little wheels furiously underground? Who knows, twuly and weally? The Leader might know but his lipths are thealed!

Can you hear the water underground?

Sam´s caption to her pic is "John telling Daniela that she was standing above the water canal and showing the flow of water to the town. I am curious to know how the water could flow upwards without a water pump."

See postscript to this blog for evidence.

The track

Back at the café, a reduced troop of four was met by even older Walkers - Rod, who on this occasion did not stop to witness the feeding frenzy, and Chris and Antje. 

and in due course, com IVA, breakfast was enjoyed well past the planned time… and more figs. But what is time if not an abstract notion? In Portugal, life happens at PMT* and everything is fine…

• PMT: Portugal Maybe Time…

Another fine outing, thanks to all who made it so pleasant!

Be good, see you next week?

*Murraymints

During the walk, some had tried to recall Leonard Cohen´s Hallelujah.

Here it is, as gloomy as ever.

Postscript

Here is a map showing where the canal goes underground and then rises back up again into Encherim

The red dot, upper right, is where the canal plunges down; the yellow dot, centre, is where Daniela was standing; and the red dot lower left, is where it re-emerges in Encherim.

The canal in Encherim, upper level. I think a syphon effect has something to do with it.