Wednesday Algarve Geriatric Strollers: WAGS St Vincent Walk: Day Two

If you have read thus far, I am sure you get the picture by now which is that this blog, covering the WAGS celebration of St Vincent´s Day 2017, is in four parts. The first part, written by Paul, dealt with the Sunday´s walk. Then came the second part, the first of Rod´s two pieces, covering the Sunday evening´s festivities. This, the third part and Rod´s second bit, describes the Monday´s walk. And then, for the fourth part of the blog, in addition to providing the maps and statistics without which no self-respecting WAGS´ nor even AWWs´ blog could possibly be complete, we may still be able to persuade Myriam to describe the post-walk Monday lunch. These introductory blue paragraphs are also simply preliminary waffle designed, as you can see, to fill the space beside the right hand margin of the WAGS template pending redesign by its Owner. Now, without further ado, over to Rod for his second contribution.

Furthest South

Day 2

Perhaps, after all that jollity, it was a good thing that we did not have to stir too early for the Day 2 walk ...a reasonable breakfast was served but not until 08.30, and we were starting from the Hotel itself so no complicated transport logisitics were called for and we managed to set off fairly near the appointed hour of 10.00. This was a circular walk heading towards the south coast which had been recced a couple of week before.

At the start, Vila do Bispo.

Gita had voted in favour of discretion and a morning of leisure, Paul had pleaded an old war wound/rugby injury (take your pick – he took the photo vide his shadow), and Chris had opted for a shorter stroll, so it was only 14 of us who set off on the long march towards the coast.

After clearing town, we headed off over the typical open rolling farm land, where Ingrid´s and Janet´s initial enthusiasm for the trail was such that they had to be reprimanded for breaking the official WAGS speed limit. We then descended at our more accustomed pace through some semi-private land where we paused to admire and feed a couple of fine looking donkeys.

After this we followed the main track, a long, long stretch of it paved with bricks courtesy the EU, down towards Praia de Barranco.

The not-so Yellow Brick Road

But before having to reach the beach, now only famous for the litter and other even filthier detritus deposited by a sadly uncontrolled mob of travellers, we were able to join the old RTC route when, after some momentary hesitation, Antje could identify a strategic bush she remembered from the earlier recce and we ascended the rocky, diagonal path up to the plateau.

This was old and well known territory now and brought back many happy memories. We headed straight for the trig point (some of us spotting the Torre de Apse in the far distance to the north-west) and an inevitable stop ensued while Maria did her habitual stuff up top.

Then it was on to the great farmhouse. Despite rumours of the family wanting to build 5 star hotels, golf courses and all, the farmhouse, only a little more dilapidated, was much as we remembered it. At least the steps up the side were still there and of course photos had to be taken again, for old times sake, despite murmured protestations from the troops that the wind was cold.

It was quite tempting to carry on west here along the old RTC route, but north we had to turn, along the main farm track used still mostly by cows , goats, sheep and shepherds....although one of them was taking it easy in a 4x4!

We met up with Chris at the point planned ( he had started off from V do B in the opposite direction as a shorter walk). The wind was now increasing in strength to gale force, protective clothing was donned and Myriam placed heavy stones in her pockets for stabilty.

North we went, past the petrified dog,