AWW 29.12.2010: (S)ircling Salir (Counterclockwise); or Rounding Off the Year

Pre-walk refreshments from David and Dinah (many thanks indeed), clement weather, a relatively gentle walk (a 2-banana on the new Bonte BSC index), a sartorial mystery, a satisfying lunch at Quinta do Cavaco and, for Alfie, the Freedom of Salir – what more could one ask.

How´s that for Starters? (Click to enlarge)

The Track

The Stats – (for the technically-minded)

    Total Dist: 12.64 km
             Total Time: 3hrs 4 min.
             Moving Time: 2 hrs 48 min.
             Overall Avg.:  4.1 km/hr.
             Moving Avg.: 4.5 km/hr.
             Total Ascent: 348 m.
             Max Elevation: 333 m.

The Leader (and Host)´s Report

“AWW, Wednesday 29th December 2010.

(S)ircling Salir (Counter-clockwise).

“The AWWs gathered for a second time at the turning of the year to execute a swift circuit of Salir before settling down to lunch in the reasonably spacious surroundings of Quinta do Cavaco. In the midst of another rather wet winter, we were fortunate that the rain held off long enough for us to complete the energetic part of the day with little recourse to waterproofs, although the ground underfoot was well sodden.
Those opting to earn their corn through exercise were:

John H, Terry A, Paul, Tanya, Hilke, Maria, Ingrid, Bob, new recruit John Cliffe and leader David. Hazel sadly was ill in bed and could not join us. Rosie, Rusty, Alfie and Amos contributed a further sixteen legs to the proceedings.
Meeting us at the restaurant to add to their Christmas kilos were:
Jill, Jeb, Myriam, Dina, Dinah, Yves and Catherine. There because they had to be – it’s a babies’ life – were Tanya and Jeb’s two delightful sons, Felix and Dexter.

The other Starters plus Their hostess

“It must be said in fairness that Yves and Catherine had spent much of the previous day stuck at Geneva airport, arriving home at 03.30 – a decent excuse for missing the footslog. Jeb claimed that two infants couldn’t be left to fend for themselves for an hour or so, which again gets a tick in the ‘accepted’ column. Dina was getting a lift with Yves, Myriam was driving Jeb and the babies, and Dinah was dishing up mulled wine, stollen and mince pies. Jill? Well, she knows the hill at the back of their house too well to want to climb it one more time  - do we blame her?

“The walking clan arrived in good time at Casa Benjamin, (Paul for a 9.30 start) where the aforesaid refreshments were dispensed. Parking was somewhat haphazard, as the famous ‘house next door’ was once again receiving attention, and space was thus limited. (Fortunately, the fact that the builders had broken into our fossa two days previously had not interfered with our toilet facilities – D.)
"After the customary photo, a prompt start was made, and the Band of Ten descended towards Ponte de Salir. (Surprising how gentle the Killer Hill looked when going down it.) Fond reminiscence took place regarding the cloudburst we endured last year as we neared the end of the walk. The walk itself was largely uneventful. Paul was still struggling with his feet and had to carry out adjustments en route, and there were real barking dogs a-plenty on this comparatively urbanized route to cheer us on our way.

 

The first banana - never saw the second.

Medic Terry rules out amputation – for the time being.

Full of sympathy.

“Although the route has a good deal of tarmac and concrete – again because of proximity to the town – there was little in the way of traffic to disturb us. Some amusement was generated at the sight of lion gate posts on the entrance to the Salir hunter’s HQ – a case of unquenchable optimism, perhaps. (After one unadvertised stiff climb, we reached a cross-roads in the middle of nowhere and my heart sank; but mercifully the Leader turned downhill.)

…turned downhill at the cross-roads.

.

Even the water hazards were benign and could be negotiated gracefully.

Not exhausted but fascinated, by some goldfish in the poço.

“Returning to Casa Benjamin with around twenty minutes to spare, rapid transformations were achieved, John took a doggy flask of mulled wine to comfort poor Hazel (set her nicely on the road to recovery), and off we went again, this time by car to the restaurant. Cavaco was as usual welcoming and the service was remarkably good when one considers that one waitress, the redoubtable Christele, was dealing on her own with our large party and several others at the same time. The little forest of empty kebab spears adorning the table testified to general satisfaction.

Which twin wears the fuchsia?

“After a brief toast to the New Year, farewells and good wishes were exchanged, and the group dispersed. Here’s to another year of exquisite masochism for all!”

Our thanks to David for making the lunch arrangements; and that´s it for 2010.

But hang on, I hear you cry, what was all that introductory stuff about the Bonte BSC Index, a clothing mystery and Alfie?

As for the first, you may recall that the Retired Chief Blogger had introduced a Scale of Difficulty for assessing walks but, to be honest, it was a bit difficult to follow and suffered from being subjective; that is, a lot depended on the judgement of the Leader and it has tended to fall into desuetude (he likes long words, does the RCB). Ingrid  has now come up with a simple, objective measurement based on the common or garden Costa Rican banana. If she requires to eat one banana during a walk to maintain her blood sugar level (BSC = Blood Sugar Co-efficient, of course), then it is a 1-banana walk. Simple, n´est-ce-pas?

And as for the clothing mystery, well, near Fonte Figueira, Terry A and myself had seen a red (note, not fuchsia) fleece hanging from a tree: it was of modest quality, suitable for a summer´s day outing perhaps but not for a bracing New Year´s expedition, but strangely dry to the touch. Thinking not very much more about it, we walked on by leaving it dangling. Shortly later, screams and yells of delight from a hundred yards or so behind us as Ingrid reclaimed the garment as her own. How come? She hadn´t been ahead of us. Over lunch, Terry and I compared it to classic enigmas such as the mystery of the “Marie Celeste” but reached no good answer. Maybe this grab from the local freguesia´s CCTV files holds the clue?

 

 

Three people ahead of Terry. We can eliminate Bob – not the sort of mystery he deals with. Possibly Hilke, and is that new recruit John Cliffe. Will one or other or both come clean?

And, lastly, as to Alfie´s Freedom award. On all the walks he had been with us hitherto, Alfie has hirpled gamely along, puffing like a grampus from time to time, sometimes on four legs, sometimes on three (left hind leg resting) and sometimes on three (right hand leg resting ), but always, always attached firmly by lead to Bob. This time, Bob risked letting him run free. No problem at all. Whenever Bob called him, Alfie would somehow stop dead, jump into the air, execute a 180 degree turn while still off the ground and start back to Bob, all in a single movement. Nijinsky would have admired him.