AWW 16.02.2011: Three Musketeers Take Messines, or Cock of the Walk

What a difference a week makes! Last week, 18 walkers and 7 dogs; this week, 84% fewer: I dog and 3 walkers. Never mind the excuses, however; fewer participants enabled the few to debate very thoroughly the RCB´s alleged linguistic offences the previous week and his attempts at palliation in his blog. Our combined judgement follows below but, meanwhile, on with the walk.  

The three Musketeers
Athos, the leader: aka Terry A
Aramis, the visionary: aka Terry M
Porthos, “fat and skant of breath”: aka JohnH
and not forgetting
D`Ogtagnan; aka Rusty

click to enlarge
Three statistics:
Total distance: 20.99 km.
Total time: 5 hrs 40 min.
Hours of rain: 1 hr 10 mins.
The Leader´s Report
“Report as follows.   A very wet and stormy start to the day but it was as forecast, although you tend to take forecasts with a pinch of salt in the Algarve, thinking it will be alright the rain will always pass over, which it did by the time I had got to the cafe, the phone calls signalling an ever-dwindling band of walkers, but there was Hope in the form of John and Terry M with “that are you serious” look?  Yes, let's go have a coffee and talk about this like grown ups, one coffee later and we were on the move.
“ Picking up the AW & VA out of town till we crossed the rail line, I was going the Algarve Way route but I know it can be very wet that way so opted for the bit of the tarmac VA use instead.
 
 
Aramis changes his hose
“As we crested the rise to look down on the Barragem it was quite a sight, water water everywhere, more an inland sea, so we moved onwards to the turn for Fuzeiros where there is a restaurant and lodgings but I am seeing more and more of the signs of Almargem for the VA being removed, because someone needs a post or fire wood?  Iit makes me angry Almargem won't replace these posts.

The Lost Post


Athos gets angry
“Now the rain fell, Terry M said like stair rods, we had a talk about who remembers stair rods? surprising we all did, we must be getting old!  We reached Fuzeiros and yes we were wet wet wet (makes a good name for a group). (The rain was indeed very wet while it lasted and it tried to last. At one stage, there were no clouds above us but still it carried on raining. “Portuguese rain” said TerryM  “…falls slowly.” But it didn´t last.)
 

Ascending from Vale de Fuzeiros
“We had TerryM's coffee & choc biscuits in a bus shelter and then we were away up to the ridge to make contact with the Menirs which were named Grand Fálica (could be a let-out for you, Paul, over last week's off camera comment!!).

Menhir no.1

Menhir no.5: “Stone me, cock.”
“ As you will see we found 4 such Fálica, we did not get vibes off any except the one which turned me into stone.

Menhir no.4 apparently resides in Silves Archeological Museum
(Translation, please, Rod, Dina, Ingrid, Hilke, Myriam: “a glande fálica” an erotic acorn?)

“ Down off this ridge, rain but a distance memory, up the next ridge to the cafe at Cortes, coffee and lunch stop.   Weather improving all the time, following the old tracks of Maurice's blue blobs, low tec but they have stood the test of time.


Panorama from Cortes
“The sun was out and we came over quite funny breaking into song by the old well…

No coins in the fountain

“but we must press on, blue blobs waiting to be found and followed to the railway line back to Messines to join the VA once again.  The bar awaits, my GPS gave up but John had all the stat's safe and sound not a bad day considering;  we were glad we walked.”

Quotation Corner:
“So foul and fair a day I have not seen.” (Macbeth)
“And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,
Shall think themselves accurs´d they were not here.” (King Henry V)

Judgement Time
The question was, apparently, had RCB offended sensibilities by remarking on a big cock during the previous week´s walk. Apart from it being a perfectly normal English (UK) name for the Cock of the Roost, the three of us came up with several normal English (UK) uses of the word ranging from friendship (me old cock) to Scottish cuisine (cock-a-leekie soup) to shooting (cock the gun) to fishing (cock salmon, cock lobster), to geo-political science (Belgium – the Cockpit of Europe), etc., etc. My English dictionary has over 35 usages of the word or including the word “cock.” In contrast, my American one has only 5.The Yanks seemingly prefer to avoid the word and use prim namby-pamby-isms like “cockerel” and “rooster.” A cockerel is  strictly speaking an immature male chicken of less than a year old, not much use to someone who wants his hens to produce eggs, while a rooster is really any bird that roosts.  Geoffrey Chaucer´s Chaunticleer was very much a cock and what was good enough for old Geoff should be good enough for us  So, since this blog is written in English and not American, RCB is considered absolved of serious offence, although guilty of the misdemeanour of having used soft U.S. terminology in his subsequent blog.
It reminds me of the tale of the rather undecisive gangster who couldn´t quite bring himself to hold up a small country bank, until his moll reminded him in Shakespearian terms that “If it were done, when ´t is done, then ´t were well, It were done quickly.” So, with courage thus screwed up and with Colt 45 in his hand, he rushed up the steps of the bank, only to slip on a banana skin which had been casually dropped in the doorway by some itinerant Belgian. His fall to the ground was broken by the barrel of his Colt which bent upwards on hitting the floor, from which the robber could only look up at the cashier and gasp “This is a cock-up.”
A Cock-and-Bull story, as Tristram Shandy would have said.