Tried for an early start this morning to get ahead of the usuals. The American couple and their grown-up son, the 2 butch German lesbians, the Yout with the wispy beard and the 2 English a bit younger than me – not a huge ping on the gaydar, might just be creatives – with their grey man buns under their fedoras. Anyway, the sun was just up, the smell of brine in the air, the birds were singing, all was right with the world. Had to pass them all again though, then thought, I need to get a handle on this. Caught up with a woman then slowed down for a bit to see if she would stop – took her ages – then discovered it was the cow that dared point me in the right direction yesterday. WTF does she think we do without her. I blame the parents. One or more of them were micro-managing, constant instructions under the guise of ‘just being helpful’ fuckwits. How fucking dare she say to me, ‘The path goes that way.’ In her fucking valley accent. Insert appropriate rage imojo for me.
Leaving Zambujeira do Mar.I just want to go down and take his handbrake off.Loads of little coves like this today, in and out, in and out.Then into the dunes again. Here, the first sign of dickishness I’ve seen. Some toe-rag in a 4×4 torguing about.More monstrous overhangs. I’ll be staying off. You wonder, how did these huge dunes get up here. Did the sea level fall? Was there a beach uplifted by the rock rising tectonically? Nope. They were blown up. Wind created them with little bits of sand over many thousands of years.The pine woods. Just about to catch-up to gobby Yank.Oh no! The fallen down tree from ‘From’. Had to run before the crows appeared or else I’d be stuck foreverrrrrrr!All these beaches safe from the hand and shit of man.The birth of a sea cave, maybe. Or a rock giant with his eyes closed going Ohhhh!Something poking up over the next one.Not sure how the horseys handle the heat, but I suppose they are used to it.The well, well covered. Why tie your rock to a string?Ze lion is guarding ze pigs. And doesn’t look too happy about it.Horse has the freedom of the town. Relaxed, eating a few before moving on. Try to explain that there is a horse loose to people who have no English. Felt like a twat, then had to give up. The guy just thought I was some dumb tourist asking for a restaurant that served horsemeat. Fuck knows what he made of my mime and I think he just thought my photo was cute, as he walked away talking to himself in rapid Portuguese, waving his arms about.The council or whoever are on the ball here. I’ve seen a few of these in various stages. When there is planning for a dwelling, this appears ready to be integrated into the wall of your house. All the pipes connected to water, electricity and Broadband.Ah! The thing poking up was the Cabo Sardão lighthouse. Fancy, dancy.Next to it, the local fotoball pitch. I can just hear, ‘Nigel! That’s the 3rd ball you’ve booted over the cliff. Next one and you’re after it.’ We need to replace Nigel with his local equivalent, of course.You may not be able to make it out, but the faint long headland sticking way out into the ocean is the westernmost point of Europe, Cabo de São Vicente, which I shall be visiting in due course.The sleepy giant stepped on it.I love the way nature just plays with the rock. Like play-doh to a child.I’d stopped for a café com liete (like a cappucino) and water near the fotoball pitch and was feeling great. But I’ve been in this green lane for 1K now and I’ve hit the wall. Just want to be in my bed. 4th day. Your young metabolisms would have kicked into gear. Opening up capillaries to your sore muscles to remove toxins and provide sustenance to build and repair and you’d now be stronger and fitter and ready for more. My metabolism just went, ‘Na! can’t be bothered,’ and fucked off to bed with a fag and a pint of Guinness.My God! Beeves.It’s me old mate Stan the stork doing a Sid the seal.He’s moved off to have a fish. Bye Stan.It seems to be a house done in an old Arabic style. A bit like penises in the sky though. Somebody should have told him.Glad they put some steps on that. The rock was slippy as frig.An orchid amongst the sugar cane.Even here. Councillors must go on exchange visits and spread this awful disease. Who uses them?A broken down aged person.The lunch prawns. Starting off a whole raft (lol) of prawns, both big and giant, today.
