Monchique to Silves

Out at eight, into the rain again. Coffee and toastie and off to find a shop for provisions.

Rain eases and the path climbs steeply out of Monchique, becomes steeper and narrower, wind picks up and gets stronger as I climb higher . . . on rocks . . . cape thinks it's a kite, rucksack cover too . . . stash both and scramble to the peak and a viewpoint, with a tower to climb . . . pass on that, since there is no view today, but thanks anyway route planners . . . maybe better to mark such adventures as optional extras . . .

The next challenge comes a couple of hours on . . . a river, fuller than usual after yesterday's rain . . . a couple of fallen trees offer a tricky crossing and just feeling smug when the track wants to go back to the other side, this time with no trees, only submerged stepping stones, so it's shoes, socks and trousers off and in . . . water below the knees, but flowing fast . . . dressed again and very soon another crossing, this time there was a bridge, recently removed by the river in spate . . . wading again, over the knees . . . all of which slows the pace, along with ups and downs, but thankfully, sunshine . . . after the excitement it's just plodding on, watching for the signs . . . no towns or villages, no coffee, just hills, eucalyptus, cork and pine trees, a few houses dotted around . . . and finally, ten hours after leaving Monchique, it's Silves . . . another €15 room and a proper meal in an empty restaurant, which has just filled with a surprise birthday party . . . time to go!

Aljezur to Monchique . . .

The thing about low cloud and light rain on a 32km mountain walk is you are soon in the clouds and that's where they keep the rain.

Waterproofs on and an early start, since 5km an hour is not going to happen with the steep climbs.

Marmalete at 17.5 km, comes slowly . . . time for a coffee, then off again and a lovely encounter as I struggle to put the cape over the rucksack . . . a bloke does it for me, smiles and slaps me on the back, as if to say, "rather you than me mate" . . . head down, more climbing, wind blowing the rain about and finally into Monchique at 4.30, over eight hours after leaving Aljezur.

A room for €15, a small heater doing its best to dry my gear, ready for another 30+ day tomorrow and more rain forecast too.

Porto Covo to Aljezur . . .

Last night's thought to walk to Cercal early and maybe push north to Vale Seco soon changed . . . setting out at 8 it was clear that since south was the destination for February, south was where to go today . . .

Talking with Marta and Ze Nicolau yesterday, we touched on the way fear may stop us living fully . . . Marta, having had procedures for arrhythmia and two brushes with death, fears a third may be final . . . and stimulates reflection on one of the big questions whilst ambling inland on sandy tracks this morning: Is there life after death?

This is closely linked to another big question, on the existence of God or Gods. However, one question at a time is enough.

Perhaps there are three possible answers: yes, no, and maybe . . . and each of us will decide according to our experience, what we think at any particular time.

Let's look at "no" first, because it is easiest to eliminate, logically. How do you prove a negative? All you can say truly is, at this time my experience has shown me nothing to suggest life after death.

There are very good reasons to deny life after death, politically. After all, the rich and powerful throughout the world and throughout the ages have used, and still use, the concept of paradise to come as a panacea to pacify the poor. This does not prove the negative, however.

Moving to the "yes" option, there are many mystics who have spoken compellingly of eternity . . .  where to start? Edgar Cayce?

Personal experience leads me to yes (probably) . . . there is a story of a Zen master, when asked the same question, who replied, "I don't know". The questioner replied, " but you are a Zen master" . . . the response was, "Yes, but not a dead one".

Maybe the veil between lives is there so we live fully each life, as if it were the only one.

The walking was straightforward and a pleasant change to go inland, through woods of cork and eucalyptus . . . some climbing and a stream to cross, but four hours was enough and outside Cercal, met Ben, on his bike . . . 40, from Hebden Bridge, now living near Lagos and cycling the Vincentina Way . . . and a volunteer looking after the Cape St Vincent to Vila de Bispo stage . . . resonating with the conversation and continuing over a couple of coffees . . .  a good connection and lots of common interests . . . Ben headed towards Odemira and I had my picnic and thought about finding a bed, before walking south tomorrow . . . when a bus pulled in, with Odeceixe on the front . . . drawn to it . . . an old man urged me to get on and the options from last night were completely changed, as I picked up the connection to Aljezur, a reunion with friends from last week, an extra day to write and plenty of time to wander along the Algarve Way . . . so much for plans . . .

Milfontes to Porto Covo . . .

. . . a sunny saunter, sometimes on soft sand, to spare the joints and work the muscles . . . sometimes firmer ground . . . more stunning views . . . perfect picnic at Cafe Atlantic, delicious, chewy local bread, tomato and tasty sheep's cheese . . . rosemary honey on bread for dessert . . . simple fare and wonderful spot, alone on the beach . . .

. . . the last stage of the Fishermen's Trail, unless you're doing it the way the guide book writes it, from north to south . . .

. . . options now include: picking up the Historic Route and going north to Santiago de Cacem; picking it up and walking south; bus to Aljezur and joining the Algarve Way at Monchique . . . in any case I have promised to be in Tavira in ten days and I have no desire to put in 40km every day just to say I walked all the way . . .

At the Ahoy Hostel, very friendly hosts Ze Nicolau and Marta, with Ze working hard at this new business, Marta working too hard in her job at the Bank and looking forward to joining in at the hostel . . .

. . . and three very friendly even younger people, here for the surfing from Evora . . .Jose Guillerme, Jose Elias and Francisco . . . all five speaking fluent English, sharing insights into life here . . . and some delicious home-made plum liqueur . . .

. . . tomorrow, back on the road, maybe finish the Historical Route to Santiago de Cacem . . . let's see . . .

Eco Surf Camp . . .

Since it appears to be still winter here, the Eco Surf Camp is quiet . . . only me in the beautiful four bed chalet, Mari anna and Romain, Breton friends of Susana and Felipe sleeping in their camper outside . . .an invitation to supper . . . delicious food, good company and more insights into the Portuguese view of the world . . .

First the Bretons, who run the independent bookshop in Morlaix - "A la lettre the" (the e on the has an acute accent, which creates a pun perhaps?) Independent bookshops have been decimated in the neo-liberal economies, with discount sales of bestsellers in supermarkets and Amazon's bulk buying and tax avoidance schemes making essential intellectual and social soul centres unsustainable. In stubborn France, often derided for protectionism by the guardians of free enterprise like the Murdoch empire of brainwashing, discounting of books is limited by law to 5% . . . even so, it is a tough environment and if you love independent bookshops, dear readers, please buy books there . . . the paradox of consumerism is that many consumers bemoan the power of soulless capitalism, yet neglect their own power to choose to spend a little more, pretending it makes no difference . . . and of course only one may seem to be hopeless, multiplied by hundreds at local level it works . . . scaled up it's one way we change the world: "We be many and they be few", in the words of Arundhati Roy, "they need us more than we need them".

If my younger sister, living near Morlaix, is still reading, she may like to call in to say hello, buy a book and a cup of tea.

Felipe, as well as being a keen surfer and running a surf shop and school, is a permaculturist . . . and pioneer of the Fishermen's Trail part of the Rota Vicentina . . . responsible with Susana for marking and maintaining the stage between here and Porto Covo - tomorrow's walk. Also a mine of information on projects local and farther afield . . . to which he offers to connect me. Tamera, he says, is sometimes referred to as Tamerda . . . one of the indicators for him being where and how money plays a part . . . which resonates.

He also clarifies the turf growing - a big English company, selling to football clubs far and wide, including Real Madrid. Another example of an economy distorted by misuse of money perhaps?

And is clear on the disaster that is Albufeira and around, positive on international cooperation. His generation is showing the way with projects demonstrating it is possible to live lightly on the land, in harmony with Nature.

All part of the "New Earth" Eckhart Tolle foresees and Arundhati Roy's "another world is not only possible, she is on her way. On a quiet day, I can hear her breathing".

And as the Greeks challenge the manufactured crisis, in Portugal there appear to be many small projects developing, changing little by little from below, perhaps combining moderate investments from North Europeans with local land know-how and relevant skills from all over . . . cooperative ownership, crowdfunding, permaculture combining with compassion, simplicity and patience.

Almograve to Milfontes . . .

. . . or Vila Nova de Milfontes, to give it its Sunday name . . .

. . . next stage shaping after invitation to Tavira for a few days dog walking with Jane at the intriguing interbeing sangha which I heard about when we met in Tavira a few weeks ago . . two weeks to get there and perfectly possible to finish the Rota Vicentina at Santiago de Cacem in four or five days, walk down the parts of the Historical Route missed by following the Fishermen's Path, link to the Algarve Way from Aljezur to Monchique then east . . . buses also available . . . and an invitation from Victoria at the Quinta Alvorada do Ouro near Tavira to follow up . . .

. . . a short Sunday saunter along dunes, past fields of sand apparently planted with grass for turf . . . golf courses, gardens? On a clifftop what looks like stupas and turns out to be single rocks, naturally formed or arranged long ago . . . the guide book talks of stone age remains hereabouts . . .

. . . the wind has dropped, the sky is clear and it is t-shirt walking weather again . . . and a picnic on the beach of Furnas, over the river from Milfontes . . .

. . . in town, Rute, at the tourist info is very helpful, friendly, fluent in English amonst other languages and contacts the folks at the Eco Surf Camp, having Sunday lunch out, who arrange to meet me at five or six at the tourist info to take me to tonight's accommodation outside town . . .

around Almograve . . .

. . . the Pousdada de Juventude is  interesting . . . never been in a prison, but this has an institutional ambience, albeit friendly . . . being the only guest left for breakfast adds to the surreal feel . . . free wifi. . . which, like all the Pousadas never seems to work properly . . . cold at night too, being designed for summer when the beach people arrive . . . and being institutional, have no qualms about leaving the heater on all night, though it struggles to compete with incoming fresh air . . .

. . . reflecting, on my roadside walk back to Cavaleiro, and strong internet with good ambience at the Rocamar . . . is the cheap deal, almost within budget, influencing decisions? Or the weather, still winter and heading north? Since all options are open, let's see what appears and since the dog sitting in Graca is now set for March (though still an open invitation to stay), maybe south down the inland Rota Vicentina and east along the Via Algarviana to Alcoutim . . .

. . . seems some promotion in the UK of these wonderful winter walks worthwhile, quiet trails, space in the hostels, good walking weather (the Portuguese folks I discuss it with mention the rain, though may not have spent much time in Britain . . . a few showers, the odd longer spell . . . but as the saying goes: no bad weather, only the wrong clothes) . . .

. . . back in Almograve, an hour watching the sun set, then supper and two French pilgrims, Monique and Gerard, from Bordeaux, walking to Santiago de Compostela . . . they think I understand French, since I speak a bit and nod and smile when they reply . . . as far as I can tell they retired from the health service and are staying healthy with lots of walking . . .