AWW 23.02.2011: Alte Sausage and Hash

One pleasant AWW tradition is the way that everybody makes a point of greeting those they have not seen for a while and it was especially nice to catch the following exchange at 8.40 a.m on Wednesday, and I quote:
 Andrew: “Good morning, dear.” Lindsey: “Good morning, dear.”
Apparently, she gets up so much earlier than he does these days.
Any way, good to see him back again; also, Ian S. doing transport duty, and Celianne fresh from a week trekking in the Dolomites – no holding her now!
Among the missing were Paul and Myriam celebrating her birthday in style up north. “Sheng-ri kwai-le, Lão shi.”
 

The Track
The Statistics
Total distance: 24km
Time: probably 6  1/2 hours, who knows.
And the Leader´s Report, (complete with quotations)
‘Sausage and Hash’
Those who got Sausage:- Terry A, John H, Tina, Rod, Andrew, Bob, Maria, Celianne, David (Leader).
Those who missed the sausage and made a Hash:-
Hilke, Lindsey, Frank, Dina, Janet.
Hazel made a Hash and still got sausage - boooo!
Those who saw the Hash coming and baled out:- Ingrid, Alex.
He who picked up the pieces (of person, not sausage):- Ian S.
Those who deserved sausage but didn’t get any:- Rosie, Rusty, Alfie, Misty, Harry, Shellie.
The length of this walk made a drop-out point advisable, and the leader was able to prevail upon Ian to turn out to assist. This facility aided the recruitment process no end, and a total of 17 walkers with six dogs, and the redoubtable Mr Scott, assembled in good time at the car park by the roundabout at Alte. An initial photo-call was arranged very calmly in the absence of the Sergeant-Major, featuring a piece of natural rock sculpture in the shape of a dog.

The Starters
“The start of the walk had been revised in the light of difficulties on a previous occasion, but a minor problem was nevertheless encountered as the group attempted to leave the N124 and start on the route over to Monte Brito. Once located, the next obstacle was an unannounced river crossing, with a very slippery concrete bed, which was, sadly, negotiated by all without anyone getting wet. We are getting far too good at these things. The disaster photographers may as well retire. (they were, of course, unable to record the Hash, which might have been a compensation).


“From this point, the whole walk went very smoothly, (tho’ I sez it wot shouldn’t). This was quite fortunate for the leader, as he learned before the first rise was topped that he had already lost his allotted ten per cent of the group. Ingrid had felt unwell shortly after the start and had returned to base with Alex for support. A later e-mail happily had her recovered. ( Aplauso ! ) Under a clear blue sky, and with no threat of even the smallest cloud, the group made its way over the hill and down the newly-surfaced road to Monte Brito and down the lanes to Lentiscais.
 

Terry A surveys the new road

Scrounging, not scrumping

A burning bush keeps the ceifeiros das laranjas warm

“ From there the valley floor was crossed and the climb made past Casa Branca and around the shoulder of Cabeça Gorda, passing – this time without photos – three of the old lime-pits that are the only available landmarks. Although it was only 11.40 when the third was reached, it was decided to have an early lunch there.


“Refreshed, the group descended to the dirt-track running around the foot of the hill, and soon after this became a tarmac road, the drop-out point was reached. The breakaway group continued along the road to Esteval dos Mouros, where Ian S was waiting for them. (More of this anon). The rest turned right and climbed through a huge orange grove and a stretch of mato to reach the only trig point of the day which, to Maria’s distress, proved insurmountable.

Traditional trig photo, blurred out of respect for Maria´s distress.
 
From there, the descent to the tarmac Caminho da Ribeira below Espargal was undertaken at a brisk pace, which was largely maintained for the rest of the walk.

Valley view
“The tiny settlement of Charneca was reached with a crossing of the valley from Espargal (canine heaven, with many rain puddles), and the raison d’être of the factory building there was revealed when Andrew, as is his wont, stopped to barter for some links of chouriço.

At the Waterhole
 

A banana on the move
Then began the long trek along the dirt road back to the outskirts of Alte. Reaching the N124, John H and Bob chose to take the tarmac back to the car park and the bar, while the rest crossed the road and, courtesy of Terry, located the narrow footpath leading to the Alte Day Centre and civilisation. Following a walk through the town, with eyes averted from the inviting bars, the one containing Hazel and a book was reached, close to the car park.
“And then we heard the story, which appeared to be as follows:
“The breakaway group had walked towards Esteval as instructed, but had then turned right instead of left as advised, leaving Ian, his car and a brown dog waiting in vain. Failing to find him, they walked on rather than turning round and, to add insult to injury for the thirsty group flogging over hill and dale, they found a bar. (Where, for heaven’s sake?) With no phone reception, the means by which Ian was eventually located and reunited with the wanderers remains a mystery to the writer, but it appears that he made the trip from Alte into the wilderness no less than five times before his task was complete. Many thanks to him for his efforts.”
“Profits, like sausages... are esteemed most by those who know least about what goes into them.” (Alvin Toffler)
 
“I have created a file of records and wish to make a Hash map from it.” ( Anon.)
That’s what they needed!

As has to be done after it is all over, Andrew does the thing with the knife and the chouriço


And there we are, another marathon accomplished. If anyone can shed light on where this mysterious bar in the environs of Esteval actually is, please let David know.
One of the challenges in maintaining a blog is trying to keep all one´s balls in the air (so to speak), i.e. not to lose sight of topics which have still not been put to bed while not getting put off by diversionary red herrings, e.g. the introduction of a rival breed of poultry such as the Faverolle when, as we all know, the AWW preferred species is the Buff Orpington. So, the very final word on the Cock and Bull stuff is to thank Terry M belatedly for having reminded me that that was the sub-title of Lawrence Sterne´s Tristram Shandy, and also to record Terry´s subtle pun describing the whole palaver as “Galos humour.”
And talking of subtleties, another unfinished piece of business is that of deciding on what to call the AWWs in French. I refer to http://aww2010-11.blogspot.com/2011/01/aww-19012011-st-vincents-special-or.html
You will recall that Yves had come up with some very good ideas, the best of which I thought was “Les baladeurs du mercredi en Algarve, (l ´équippe BMA).”  Paul had not thought very much of “L´Équippe WWA” which was my original and admittedly feeble attempt and, having seen Yves´ suggestions, then laid down the necessary criteria, i.e. the title must include the equivalents of  ´Wednesday´, AND ´Walkers´, AND ´Algarve´.
No doubt, after the big match tomorrow between France and England, Paul and Yves will be shaking each other´s hands amid expressions of mutual bonhomie when there will be a suitable moment for Yves to explain the exquisite drollery of his proposed title which, one may be certain, will have the approval of L´Academie Française.