Thursday, 8 August 2019

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.











































Friday, 2 August 2019

APAPS 19.5: Pescadores Pequenino



First of all, a couple of “brought forwards” from last week´s Blog before we deal with this week´s Walk.
Number One. If you recall, we were dealing with the rather academic subject of women talking about men in literature and films, not exactly the most enthralling topic ever covered in these pages, it has to be admitted. Anyway, Antje sent in an email (while apologising for her inability to post a formal comment while on her way North to UK) which included the following remark:-
“ 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”
Intriguing. Does anybody know the name of that lady author? Mind you, it could be any stream of consciousness type of thing – you know what I mean – it´s the way a lot of women talk –they do go on and on non-stop, no pauses for breath, grammar or punctuation.
But more seriously, stopping for a regular glass of port would be a good way to get through one of those WAGS walks round Lagos.
Number Two. That blog had referred to a couple of absentees, one being Janet, being struck down with The Dreaded Lurgi. Paul came back with the comment that he would have spelled it “Lurgy” with all sorts of references to the Oxford English Dictionary. The Goons made the word popular in our schooldays as “Lurgi” but apparently the Cornish dialect had it as “lurgy” or “the lurgies” which they described as a sort of pretend disease, the cure for which in a place called Poldark (familiar?) was to take a long, fast walk. Perhaps Janet should have not given in that morning but should have come on our Grande Finale walk. Be that as it may, she was as fit as a fiddle for this week`s excursion.

And this was the track for this week´s walk.


A mere 8 kms and 425 metres climb.

Except for one thing –that wasn´t the walk we actually did. You see, the previous day, Paul and Myriam advised that they had to be in Faro mid-Wednesday morning for some sort of cosmetic appointment and would have to miss the breakfast. Appalled by this threatened desertion, where it seemed that personal good looks were being prioritised over traditional exercise,  the Leader said he would truncate the walk so that they could fit the meal in. This second picture shows the shorted version of the walk that actually took place.

True statistics to follow later.

At the witching time of 7. 07 am, however, there was no sign of TerryA and Jill (their road from Salir had been closed because of a fire alarm) so the Starters were only…

                          Janet, Dina, JohnH, Maria, Ingrid, Paul, Myriam and Hazel.

TerryA was told by phone where we were going; he said he would catch us up. Off we went at 7. 20 am.

At intervals, we laid down stone arrows on the track in case he couldn´t follow us. But you can´t fool him, he knows these woods like the back of his hand.



In the past, I have been accused of unkind photography in displaying other peoples´ rear ends in my Blog photographs, So perhaps it is time and quite fitting that I now display one of mine own.


Half way through the walk and at the top of a hill, Terry and Jill did indeed catch up with us so there was a sort of second Starters photo.



Our route home was fairly direct after that, down what had been a hidden valley until last year´s fires revealed it. Still quite a secluded spot, nevertheless. Paul was lucky enough to spot a deer as we descended.



Back at Pescadores by 9.00 am for an early breakfast. Hazel and Myriam had gathered mint for their cha.

We were joined by Rod .


Good to see him after his overhaul even although it will be some weeks before his new gearbox is fully run in and he can be on the walks again.
               
                                                       The standard breakfast



                                                          The special breakfast

There was the usual good Pescadores service at breakfast , thanks in large part to Hazel and Maria. This pair were due to depart for distant Asia the next day on a two month safari , so fond farewells were exchanged.


                                               Before the beauty treatment

Temporarily, our APAPS numbers are shrinking.
And now for the Track and Statistics of what must be one of the shortest APAPS/WAGs efforts on record.


                                                  Garmin still cannot get it right





The official figures

Total distance: 5.87 kms. Total time: 1 hr 49 mins.
Moving time: 1 hr 24 mins. Average moving speed: 4.2 kph.
Ascent: 194 metres.
Eggs consumed:16

5.87 kms only. Is that a record low?