WAGS 2024 02 14: The Shortcut that Wasn´t, or Where Has The Track Gone?

A small contingent of us gathered at Odiaxiere, had our coffees and then drove to the usual Cotifo starting point. We were expecting a somewhat muddy and waterlogged walk but we were not really prepared for what hit us. Read on!

Yves was in fine camera form. Here he is photographing Maria modelling Geraldine´s new boots.. a bargain from Decathlon

Geraldine was at home, cat-sitting or baking.. 

The usual Starters Photo was taken, then the first large water hazard was tackled... note Yves in action with his camera as Rod sizes up the challenge

and this was the image captured by our artistic photographer

"A pause for thought" ???? or maybe????
 

"I say, Rod, old chap. I´ve just had a great idea for a caption of that picture I have just taken . I am thinking of calling it "On Reflection". What do you think?"

Scroll back, Dear Reader, to look at it again.

But then there came a rather more serious examination of Rod´s walking techniques. An extremely long puddle. Here he is, girding up his loins.

""

And here he goes. Long legs are needed.

Phew !

Others took the High Road and the Leader simply walked through it.. it wasn´t that deep.

Then some rather more gentle countryside and the pleasure of hearing running streams

and it was then that I decided to take a shortcut. A few week´s ago, Rod had led a walk in this area and had introduced us to a convenient track going over the hills that reduced some of the wearisome twists and turns of the homeward track. As Leader, I was of course conscious of the threat posed by the Emeritus Chief Blogger who would be waiting for his lunch at the predetermined spot (Café Lopo, Odiaxiere) and who did not like to be kept waiting. 13.30 hrs was the appointed time. Initially no problem. Past the rusty old look-out post

Now, as recently as mid December, the track led one over the hill and then gently down to that small nbarragem

Now there is no track; it has been obliterated and the whole hill side devastated by forestry machines. Felled trees everywhere, virtually impenetrable barriers in our way 

After a great deal of scrambling, at risk to life, limb and ankles, we did manage to find a small goat track and then  the way to to valley floor gradually opened

Mud gave way to meadows full of flowers and babbling brooks, the sort that some poet wrote about.

It was now Hazel´s turn to take pictures, of  flowers of course.

 But valuable time had been lost. Paul would have to be mollified, somehow.

The Track and the Statistics

The Lunch

As it turned out, Paul was gracious and understanding. The lunch was somewhat unusual in its way because for once, both Rod and Yves stayed for a full meal.

There was entremeada....

bitoque....

frango....

fish of some description.......

and JohnH had something called Roger´s. Who this Roger was and why he had left his food was not explained.

During the meal we were entertained by a live broadcast of a nearby bicycle race, called the Volta ao Algarve and we tried to recognize the roads it was been run on.

Paul and Myriam were indeed so enthralled by it that they decided to follow it on their way back home which took them several hours.

The closing music is, for the second week running, by Johnny Ray, brought back by popular demand