APAPS 22.8: How To Know Your Alfarrobas From Your Arrobas.

 

This week´s walk got off to a rather slow start, for various reasons. Myriam had arrived first but then had disappeared into the boondocks and didn´t reappear for some time  And Our professional photographer had paused enroute to photograph storks and (I think) the Silves Roman Bridge in the sunrise and turned up a bit late. Etc etc.

( I am not sure if this is the correct one -this looks like a sunset but no doubt Yves will clarify. Never mind, it´s an excellent picture).

So there we are, despite a scheduled start of 07.00,  the Leader is looking at his watch at 07.04 wondering when we can get round to doing the Starter Photo, if ever.

07.04

But then Maria needed to chat with Hazel on WhatsApp but could not locate her on her mobile, and this required the convening of a sub-committee meeting to try to solve the problem.

7.10

7.12

(Quite why Maria wanted to WhatsApp Hazel when they were standing next to each other, we do not know. Let´s just say it is one of Life´s Little Mysteries and leave it at that.)

Sub-committees etc, etc,over, the Starter Photo is taken, at 07.15.

07.15

Then Myriam finds that she has forgotten her hat and has to retrieve it from her car.

07.18

The Leader graciously offers to retake the Starter Photo complete with retrieved hat but his offer is equally graciously declined. We probably eventually set off at about 7.20. After all that excitement, not much really happened during the walk worth reporting.

Terry and Yves walked well ahead of the rest of us most of the time and were very patient waiting for us to catch up. We all did it in 1 hour 45 minutes moving time. They two could probably do it in 1 hour flat.

Then, the Leader, in trying to introduce new tracks for variety´s sake, made a mistake as a result of which we found ourselves facing a choice of either climbing a very steep upward slope or of negotiating a tricky and steep downward gully, off-piste. We chose the gully. Nobody fell, luckily.

Trickier than it looks

Nevertheless, the early morning sunlight was pleasing to the eye.

At the Old Farmhouse, some mobile campers had rigged  a sleeping tent on top of their vehicle.

Must be a delicate balancing act if one of them needs to get up in the middle of the night.

We passed the area where the Camara had being doing a lot of tree planting and it was good to see the successful results. Not all the new saplings have been eaten by deer.

Later on, we came across a couple of men collecting alfarroba (carob) pods and Yves and Myriam engaged them in conversation. 

They said that they were harvesting the pods with the permission of the landowners, a rich Silves family (Maria knows the details). Probably so. There have been several reports recently of people being arrested for stealing carobs, but these two guys would been daft to be so open about it if they had not got permission, nor would they have been happy for us to take their pictures.

Among other news reports, Observador reported recently that the GNR had seized 15 tons (15000 kilos) worth Euros 28,000 from one presumed thief, and said that the price has increased tenfold in recent years. 

The unit of measurement for alfarroba is the arroba, a weight measure used in Portugal and Spain as well as in Latin American countries (and also in Macao.) The weight of an arroba varies between 10.00 kilos (Uruguay for example), 11.5 kilos (Venezuela and Spain), and 15.00 kilos (Portugal and Brazil). (By the way, a Macanese arroba weighs in at 14.688 kilos - I wonder why it differs from the Portuguese measure.)

As to the rise in price, apparently four years ago the market price of carob in the Algarve was 5 euros per arroba and now it is between 40 and 50 euros. No wonder thefts are increasing. Difficult to fence in and guard carob tree areas. But we have also recently seen carob tree areas being destroyed to allow for more avocado planting. Good move or bad move?

A little further on, Yves was seen attacking a tree trunk with a large piece of stone. Such was the vigour of his blows that it was the stone, not the tree, that broke. 

We did not stop to ask him why he was doing that. But later it could be deduced that he was smoothing a surface for his model to pose on.

Near by, Rest and Be Thankful was as smooth a seat as ever.

The Track and the Statistics (as many as one could wish for )

Walk over, we returned to Para e Fica for breakfast. When we were last there at the beginning of July, our waitress was Georgette, an old friend from Casinhas days, but she is now no longer there. Personality clash with the redoubtable proprietress, no doubt.

But the breakfast was good as ever. Para e Fica must be in the running for the “Best Bacon of the Year” award”

I don´t know why Myriam´s hand is trying to grab my breakfast

She didn´t mean to.

Extra bacon for the men

"Enjoy your breakfast.... or else"

Some serious eating and light hearted conversation. Attempts were made to contact Paul, to no avail. Probably difficult to carry a mobile when one is on a nude beach.

There was only one contestant for the captioned T-shirt contest. Perhaps that particular conversation has run its course.

For those not in the know, Tartiflette is a dish from Savoy in the French Alps and the Aosta valley in Italy. It is made with potatoes, reblochon cheese, lardons and onions. A splash of white wine can be added. "A gooey, creamy baked casserole of potatoes, cream, cheese, bacon and onions is true French mountain food."

And now referring back to Yves´ picture of Silves Roman Bridge. Not to be outdone, here is one of mine, of the same bridge, but taken from the other side.

 Why do I bring this up?. Because I took mine at moonrise, and that of course brings me neatly to our recent theme - music about moonlight.

So to close, one more classic from, need you ask, Billie Holiday.

APAPS 22.7: Antje Does The APAPS Proud.

 

Before we go on to sing Antje´s praises, let´s first pick up where we left off last blog, that is, talking about evening sunsets and moonshine and listening to a song by Billie Holiday. Yves came up trumps with a photograph of Algoz in the moonlight – who would have imagined that modest little Algoz could get photographed so often? - 

and of course, there is the perfect Billie Holiday song to go with it too.

And now on to the APAPS walk on 27^th July for which Antje had kindly agreed to be Leader; not only that, but she was Chief Cook as well (and probably Chief Bottle Washer to boot.)

We took the first Starter photo at Lagos Railway Station. Not very many to start with; Rod, Terry and Yves all absent on unfinished business of one sort or the other.

and then made our way to the beach and its freshly ploughed sand.

Removal and securing of shoes then took up some time.

And we strolled pleasantly along in the direction of Bar Quim, joining up with Chris and Paul along the way. There we took the second and more complete Starter photo, after which Antje very considerately allowed us to pause for a coffee break.

A fine pair

She and Chris then went off to prepare breakfast, leaving us in the tender care of Paul who led us all the way to the Alvor breakwater.

Hazel took pictures of footprints.

If either of these are yours, please own up to her. Paul found evidence of the existence of the Meia Praia Bigfoot and compared it with his own size 11/46 pedal extremity.

This rather more elegant foot belongs to Maria.

The anklet, by the way, had just been found lying in the sand by Hazel.

(The “J H “ initials on it are nothing to do with me, Your Honour Sir. And the other initials on the anklet“ B W”? No idea, Your Honour Sir. I´ve never met Brenda Whatsername in my life.”)

We passed the spot where a few days earlier Paul and Myriam had seen the rusted mortar bomb which was subsequently detonated by the GNR bomb disposal squad.

Then an uneventful return to Bar Qim via the lagoon and the golf course where a strange spraying machine was seen, dropping a trail of little white balls on the putting surface. Any ideas?

Myriam and Maria were excited to find a French sports car outside the Bar.

From Nord Department, near Belgium. But no sign of an exciting Frenchman to go with it.

 The Track and the Statistics

Then it was post-haste for drinks at the Whittles´ spacious new apartment in the Fabrica with its unmissable landmark chimney,

There was a better display of T-shirt slogans compared to the previous week.

And then the truly excellent breakfast. 

A delicious Khao Tom Kai, a Thai-style rice porridge with prawns, etc., etc. (full recipe from Antje if you ask her nicely) served with ginger and Nam Prik, and accompanied by hot rolls and toast.

(Lexicon:  Khao = rice. Tom = soup.  Kai or Gai? = chicken or egg? 

Nam = water. Prik = chili.)

Proof, if proof is needed, that there is indeed more to life than the Full English Breakfast. The Whittles´ hospitality greatly appreciated.

And now: A Content Warning

Readers of a gentle disposition may now want to leave this page because, to complete the record of this walk, I regret that I now have to relate and illustrate an incident which probably only those with strong stomachs can take. You see, during the first part of our stroll along the beach, Hazel was concentrating on finding shells. Head down, she did not notice an approaching apparition until the very last moment when its shadow fell on her and shocked her considerably.. Who or what was it? 

It was Paul in all his glory. , Were his briefs pink or were they skin-coloured.? I will leave it to you to judge.

Surrounded by his "admirers"

Luckily, Myriam came to the rescue and persuaded him to don some rather more modest boxer shorts.

And it was later that he confided in us that the breakwater where we were heading for was his own private sunbathing area, with a photo to prove it.

Do you think he is suggesting we join him?

Sorry about all that, but it had to be put on record.

Let´s now return to normality and have some closing music, rather different from the usual, recommended by Myriam. Something called Horse, I think.