The dreaded second day and on a Saturday, the day where many of my wettest, longest and least memorable walks have taken place. This Saturday was no exception.
At breakfast I had a long chat with an American couple who wished they could move to Europe instead of flying home. I set off at 9.30 and the first six kilometers were along a road, before hitting the first, not too sandy paths. A couple of storks, a couple of very persistent barking dogs and police chasing a car were the high points, and a small road with flowers and bushes in bloom – very colourful and very pleasant. From there it went downhill.
After about 9km, I was supposed to make a right turn, but there was a sign stating that it was private and no entry was allowed. I went left passed a lagoon with a number of birds and took a path parallel to the one I was supposed to take going north. Suddenly, the trail was blocked by a gate and a guard. This is in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by a forest and sand dunes. There seemed no apparent reason for the path to be blocked with a guard on duty a Saturday morning. I had no choice but to take a path back towards the path I had planned to take. It was heavy going in ankle deep sand.
When I reached the path I had planned to take, it turned out to be a sand covered gas pipe, and the sand was much deeper and very hilly. Where possible I walked in the scrub next to the path. On my GPS I could see a road running at an angle to the path I was on, and they would cross in 3-4 kms, so I decided to continue, only slightly heartened by the fact that someone else had walked here, based upon the shoeprints in the sand.
About 500m before the path and road would meet, another fence had been erected. There was a gate and I could have easily climbed over, but then again, I had no idea if I could cross the fence on the other side. I had no choice but to follow the fence, and the walkers shoeprints I had seen earlier. I finally made it to the road after walking a total of 9km in detours since I started this morning.
Instead of continuing along the sand covered gas pipe as my trail planned, I decided to stick to the road, walking a total of 18km along a fairly quiet road, but without anywhere to stop for a coffee break until Carvalhal, 2km before my destination. I passed a large building along the road, and soon realised that it was a prison with a stork perched on the top of the church, but beyond that, there was very little of interest to see, and I walked listening to music, and singing along.
The road was 3km shorter than the path I had planned. So instead of 32km I ended up walking 38kms. I arrived at the hotel 17.15, very tired.
I obviously hadn’t done my due diligence when booking, as the hotel is in the middle of nowhere and the closest restaurant is 2km away along the main road without a pavement, which I had just walked to get there. I didn’t want to risk walking in the dark, so dinner was some leftover cheese and biscuits from last night’s dinner.
Another Saturday trip for the records.