Portugal – 11


Sagres to Salema

The various sites that I looked at all said that this was the hardest day, but they didn’t know about the day of hell. Piece of cake compared to that.

I really enjoyed today even with all the downez and the upez. I think it’s maybe ‘cos I’m close to the end. A long day tomorrow to finish and I hope that my feets hold out.

The softer rock gets cut more by the rivers creating many more valleys that reach the sea. So, instead of nice continuous high cliffs you get accessible beach followed by cliff.

My boy Henry. You know, he could quite rightly be charged with starting the whole white European Imperialist thing.
Is it a warning for dogs or a warning about foxes?
Filled plastic water bottles as decoration just don’t cut the mustard mate.
I’ve come down to the harbour for no reason I can think of. Oh well! Back up the dozens of steps then.
Somewhere out there is Salema.
I can cross the beach to the first cliffs.
Very strange tubular plants. Wonder what they look like in flower?
I came up the hill and there was this racket. I thought it young birds in a nest by the path. But no. In this mossy green pond…
…is a large number of vocal frogs. Lucky Stan isn’t around.
Sagres goodbye.
Some hippy, happy-clappy walkers had too much time on their hands. Is it a home for the cliff fairies?
Just me and the old road. Except, for the first time, I hear the buzzing of insects. Loads of little bees around.
I’ve seen this in dozens of places and still can’t make up my mind. Whether it is the reserve’s rangers taking out invasive species or some toe-rag taking something nice for her garden.
This landscape must once have supported large numbers of livestock. Massive abandoned farm. Now, however, all re-wilded. Try doing that in the Mournes or the Sperrins. Dump all the sheep. lose all the walls and give it a few years – wonderful.
More downez and upez. I assume that the surfers all have a chat room or such. Coming down the cliff I could see loads of camper vans parked about a mile up the valley and all the peeps on their way humping their boards.
This shrub has bloomed everywhere with big daisy-like flowers.
This one is surf-school beach. Dozens of the fuckers.
A better view from up here.
Where. Oh! Where are you?
A couple of nice caves in this one.
Is it a tag? Or a new Banksey-like woofer at the game.
Was all gone when I got up the hill. That’s the prob with free stuff. I think the free-range dogs got them.
Jezu! some of these are steep. Surprise, surprise. The American usuals are still on the course, though they seemed to have picked up a 4th wheel. Them resting down below as I passed.
There’s a pine forest on the side of this one. Must be 25 degrees in here.
Jordan and the boys checking in. A hell of a trip from Belfast Lough though.
I reckon 4 more downez and 3 more upez to go.
I’ve just come round the corner from the last up and I’m in the town. Trouble is all the restaurants are at the bottom of the hill. The hotel reception is at the top. Fuck it! one more hill won’t matter. Lunch it is.
My £42 house. What larks. There are 114 houses on this site – all spread out. Mine is near the bottom of the hill. Tomorrow morning I’ll have to climb the fucker again with my luggage to leave it in reception for the transfer boys.
Ze view. Ha!
The bedroom for me.
And the spare.

Penultimate day done. Last day tomorrow will be at least 7 hours. Then I don’t have to walk the following as I’m travelling. Wonder what the legs and feet will feel like relaxing on the train. I’m sure they’ll tell me.