Zambujeira is a really nice little town, white buildings with blue trim under red tile roofs lining cobblestoned streets. And it has a nice beach also. We just got in too late, too hot and too tired to feel inspired to walk down to it.
Although I did have enough initiative to grab a cold beer at the nearby market, and enjoy it in the company of three turtles who inhabit the courtyard of our lodgings.
We did eventually walk down to the praca (plaza) overlooking the beach to watch the sunset – nice pastel colors but too many low clouds for glory.
Dinner was at a diner where Cathy got cuttlefish and I tried something called black pork plumas. We suspected that “plumas” was a mistranslation of some sort but this was not the case. Rather, plumas are a back cut found only on Iberian hogs. Who knew? It was good and would have been better if not slightly overcooked.
Morning saw us walking again at the break of 9 after another typical breakfast of ham, pastries, coffee and juice. This sounds late, but sunrise isn’t until 8 am. The skies were once again cloudy.
The beautiful town of Zambujeira perched above its fine beach
Unlike yesterday these clouds flattened out the colors and we didn’t take a lot of pictures.
It even rained a bit, enough to prompt us to put on our rain jackets.
There was a bit more topography today as compared to the previous days — a lot of narrow gullies that we climbed into and out of, though none deeper than maybe 40 meters. But they were steep and required a bit of patience to navigate.
The Frenchies a steep downclimb below us
Despite the downclimbs, we were somewhat disappointed by the limited beach access and never made it down to the water.
There were flies however, flies that persisted even in pretty strong breezes. That tended to keep our breaks short. We made good time for the first 15 km, but Cathy ran out of gas after that and her knee was hurting, especially on steep downhills.
At the Rio Seixe we said goodbye to the coast. It was a sad parting, as it had provided us with days of beauty and delight: sparkling sun on the water, tall rugged cliffs, secret coves, waves flowing endlessly up and down and against the land’s edge.
There was an inviting-looking resort at the river’s mouth, one that I am pretty sure would have cold drinks for us, but it was on the other side of the river.
Our path instead was a 5 km slog road walk upriver in hot sun, high humidity and many flies. We were definitely feeling a bit cranky as we reached the edge of Odeceixe.
Odeceixe across the river and up on a hill
It didn’t help that our lodgings were perched 100 m up on the hillside. Poor Cathy was totally played at that point. It took some coaxing to get her to pose in front of the sign marking the end of our walk.
Finding our lodgings up the maze of narrow streets was a challenge. As usual, I let Cathy do the navigating. She is a strict Aristotlean, insisting that all effects must have a proximal cause. If we take a wrong turn when I am navigating, then I am the cause of her unhappiness. If we take a wrong turn when she is navigating, then the phone is the cause. I much prefer that she be angry at the phone.
We did eventually get to where we needed to go. A rest and a shower was all that was needed to restore our spirits. Fortunately a good restaurant was right across the street, and we enjoyed dinner in the company of our fellow walkers, a good end to our journey.
