APAPS 23.11: Tomayto Or Tomahto; That Is The Question

 A break with a long tradition this week, the Full English Breakfast being abandoned in favour of an experimental continental-type repast. "Feedback", if you will excuse the expression, will be welcome. The early morning light on the beach gave our photographic team ample opportunity to test their art skills. I received lots of pictures to choose from; 68 all told. Tough job to whittle them down for the Blog. Now, over to Yves for his stimulating description of events.

He writes:-

The day dawned in a contrary fashion, as was its wont that morning…

Now, the Blogger had left the warmth of his nest in good time to be at the beach for daybreak, snap the sunrise over the distant shoreline and the water before meeting up with the Walkers at Café Paradis… That was the plan but, as the sands of time clogged his sandals on that lonely beach, the sun was having a lie-in. Nothing for it but accept defeat and return to the Café .......

.....where the throng was getting stronger: some still sheltering from the not-so-cold cold air in their car, others joyfully beavering at various tasks involving tripods, cameras, little action and the threat of scratching the Blogger’s pride and joy… His car, it must be emphasised, lest some misinterpretation should slip in!

Final score:   Mercedes 1 - Honda 3.

The Leader had clearly arranged for the sun to appear at the correct time as he marshalled the troop into a near-disciplined gaggle of beaming young faces. 

The Starters: Dennis, JohnH, Samantha, Dorothy, Tanja, Hazel, Brian, Daniela, Julia, Fabrizio, Yves, Maria, Myriam.

These youngsters, fit, happy and bursting with energy DO have the effect on some of us to underscore how less fit and certainly not bursting with energy we are slowly becoming… Happy, still! But that is largely down to Cask Strength Single Malts.

And so we departed in the opposite direction from the usual: had the Leader lost his byword sense of direction? Was he distracted by sirens’ songs? No: he simply fancied a change.

The foray through the brush bushes with a still very low sun behind us presented wonderful opportunities for back-lit happy-mood pictures of golden hair, bright eyes and smiles to keep ad-agencies wanting more: not so! The Leader maintained a determined and steady pace while the lower ranks did their best to move in front of each other in random fashion with the larger persons in front of the smaller ones, etc. Decidedly, the Fates were not letting the Blogger do his worst; next week, perhaps?

Be that as it may, when we reached the raised road skirting the beach, all was revealed: the Leader had taken the troop that way instead if this way in order to avoid the unseemly scramble under the wooden walkway: clever man! The road was crossed in a very dignified fashion but not before the girls spotted some pretty flowers, delicate and white, those were, and with seed sacs bursting onto the sand; indeed, many seeds were collected in the hope of recreating that sandy look in back gardens and patios. We might report on that venture’s outcome next year: bi-focals on and watch this space!

The beach awaited us: a glorious expanse of fine sand with only few fellow-walkers enjoying their constitutionals with their dogs and girl-friends, or boy-friends, or unspecified friends; as none were displaying badges with their preferred pronouns, conjecture is wide open. The only certainty is that only the dogs were chasing after tossed tennis balls, we think.

The ebbing tide drew strange patterns in the sand

Sand trees

There we also saw for ourselves how thoughtless –perhaps accidental- actions can affect our environment: a young sea-gull was trailing some discarded fishing net tangled around its neck. 

It would not allow us to approach and possibly free it from that horrible plastic but it was clearly stressed by it all. Should that netting catch on drift wood or the walkway planking, the poor bird will surely die…There was no option but let ‘nature’ take its course and we marched on our own course. 

Brian, Julia, Fabrizio, Samantha

We soon came across a stream running across the sands, tempting some to splash water, others to paddle like children and this Blogger to cross manfully, to the far side and then back! He should have heeded the instruction that we were not going across but walk up away from the sands, silly man! Still, there was the perfect opportunity to put Decathlon’s best Gore-Tex to the test: would water get through? No! Water did not get through the material, splendid stuff! It got over the top of the boots, however. The Leader was tactful enough not to laugh out but he could barely restrain a smirking smile. Memo to self: either listen to instructions or buy higher boots still!

Then to the Board Walk and the Bird Sanctuary, to see if we could spot any.

"Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry"

Maria does her trig point celebration although there was no trig point nearby.

The Bird Look-Out

(Apparently, this is a picture of Dennis getting a slap for helping some but not all the  ladies across the drain. He has been approached for a comment but has not responded. Ed.)

The western end of the lagoon did have some water and a curlew was spotted

In any event, the Leader had other things on his mind: time and breakfast! In spite of his best efforts to keep a pace consistent with a timely arrival at the Café-restaurant, some in the party were rushing at a speed belying their age and the shortness of their legs; was it a form of contrition for delaying the troop on a previous expedition? [See previous blogs] They did not say. As he observed the sun’s arching progress across the morning sky, the Leader felt that there was no option but throw in a short ‘extra-loop’. And this was done.

The extra-loop took us past this extensive ruin

The Track and, courtesy of Dennis, the Statistics

At the Café-Restaurante, a different style of breakfast from our usual English style awaited the hungry troop: bacon had matured into jambon, toast became croissants, friendly fried eggs were soon brouillés and looked very inviting while the Sagres beer gave way gracefully to orange juise and café au lait… 

Brian truly hit the jackpot when he ordered a cappuccino.

For many, the pièce de résistance was an unassuming bowl of tomates cerises served with chopped onion and garlic, sprinkled with herbs and in a very tasty dressing of olive oil: the essence of simplicité but ever so pleasant! 

More please.

What was the secret ingredient in the dressing? Perhaps the Leader will mull over repeating the experience at some point?

He´s not talking about that slap, is he?

A very satisfying morning, for sure! Thank you to all for making it enjoyable!

Until next time, be good!

Thanks to Yves for his report -he has now been confirmed as a Blogger, by the way, and to all who contributed photos. Commiserations to Dot and Dennis who had to miss  out on the cherry tomatoes because of  pending medicals, and to Paul who missed the meal and the banter because of a chipped tooth. Dot packed him a "carry--out" which kindness he acknowledged in WhatsApp. Since it was he who introduced this idea of the Full English Breakfast in the first place, one wonders what he makes of the break in tradition. 

At the end of the meal, Myriam tried to get through to Rod in hospital in Lisbon after his back operation, to wish him well from all of us, but she could not make contact; apparently he was engaged in having a shower. We will keep the shower curtain closed.

And for those who wondered about the slogan "In Tartiflette We Trust," tartiflette is a dish from the Savoie in the French Alps and from the Aosta Valley in northwest Italy. It is made with potatoes, reblochon cheese, lardons  and onions. A splash of white wine can be added too. If you replace the potatoes with crozets (a small, square -shaped pasta), you get Croziflette.

For the closing music, I had thought of "American Pie" in view of the earlier quotation but it´s a bit long, so here´s something with tomatoes in it instead.