The woman in the hotel admits already in the evening on her own
initiative that she starts at nine in the morning and knows that hikers
want to start earlier.
So I have an independant breakfast and am off to a
pretty good schedule. The Norwegians promised that the weather will
improve. One day it is even supposed to rain.
First four kilometers is paved road. Good to get that done right in the beginning. In a blind curve I remove a big rock from the way, just before a scooter comes. He would have met the rock exactly next to me. Maybe I saved my life. No more traffic on this road.
Next entertainment is a climb to the cliff because the trail goes up there along the edge where there are views. Views start right away. First view is to the beach, river mouth, bunch of houses and foamy waves. Behind every rock is a private sandy beach. A Frenchman comes when I air my toes, walks back and forth and repeats to himself "superb, superb".
On half way is Azenha do Mar where there was supposed to be a fine fish restaurant. It is closed. A café is open where I make friends with local drunkards. Their representative claims the gang to be divers.
Next views offer the possibility to observe romance of storks. Layers of rocks are tilted at various angles. Flowers are more or less the same. No shadow but luckily there's some wind.
In the first beach I climb down to check it out. Rocks are arranged so that everyone can have their own private space for changing clothes. Water hasn't got any warmer since Faro. Right at the water's edge is some kind of step which means that incoming wave splashes you on the head and hits your legs with stones. Other bathers also seem confused. I get dry and go on. Bath was nice but now all places are even more full of sand. And sun seems to be too intense for taking clothes off for a longer period of time.
For the second half of the day they have built tunnels of trees and mud trails over streams. On show are ostriches and other southern animals and naked people. It's possible to make a stop for drink in a place where white curtains wave in the wind and Brian Adams sings how good was the summer of 1969. In the next table British ladies discuss how difficult their life is.
Zambujeira is a fancy tourist town with a good view to the ocean. Right from the restaurant's table it is possible to see the sunset. Accommodation is very clean and nice, with soft towels and pillows. Until I arrive with my pile of sand.
First four kilometers is paved road. Good to get that done right in the beginning. In a blind curve I remove a big rock from the way, just before a scooter comes. He would have met the rock exactly next to me. Maybe I saved my life. No more traffic on this road.
Next entertainment is a climb to the cliff because the trail goes up there along the edge where there are views. Views start right away. First view is to the beach, river mouth, bunch of houses and foamy waves. Behind every rock is a private sandy beach. A Frenchman comes when I air my toes, walks back and forth and repeats to himself "superb, superb".
On half way is Azenha do Mar where there was supposed to be a fine fish restaurant. It is closed. A café is open where I make friends with local drunkards. Their representative claims the gang to be divers.
Next views offer the possibility to observe romance of storks. Layers of rocks are tilted at various angles. Flowers are more or less the same. No shadow but luckily there's some wind.
In the first beach I climb down to check it out. Rocks are arranged so that everyone can have their own private space for changing clothes. Water hasn't got any warmer since Faro. Right at the water's edge is some kind of step which means that incoming wave splashes you on the head and hits your legs with stones. Other bathers also seem confused. I get dry and go on. Bath was nice but now all places are even more full of sand. And sun seems to be too intense for taking clothes off for a longer period of time.
For the second half of the day they have built tunnels of trees and mud trails over streams. On show are ostriches and other southern animals and naked people. It's possible to make a stop for drink in a place where white curtains wave in the wind and Brian Adams sings how good was the summer of 1969. In the next table British ladies discuss how difficult their life is.
Zambujeira is a fancy tourist town with a good view to the ocean. Right from the restaurant's table it is possible to see the sunset. Accommodation is very clean and nice, with soft towels and pillows. Until I arrive with my pile of sand.
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