Travel

Jo’s Monday walk : Querenca to Fonte de Benemola

Another of the Algarve’s sleepy villages, Querenca was looking idyllic on the last day of my October holiday. Our walking group were meeting at the cafe on the left of the photo above. It’s quite a drive up into the hills and a ‘bica’ of coffee is always appreciated before we start walking.

Surrounded by rolling hills and leafy green scenery, Querenca breathes pure tranquillity. Excepting when the Festa das Chouricas takes place, at the end of January, and the waft of spicy sausage rouses the locals. In honour of St. Luis, the patron saint of animals, the celebrations give thanks for the pigs, bred locally, that feed the villagers throughout the year. I rather fancy trying chouriço à bombeiro, where the sausage is doused in brandy and set alight. Bombeiros are fire fighters, in case you wondered. Time to set forth.

We leave the village square in a downhill direction, over lovingly worn cobbles. I’m too busy admiring the scenery to realise that the return route could well be steeply uphill. There are 13.7 kilometres to cover first. I’ve walked to Fonte de Benemola in the past, but this route is unfamiliar.

Portuguese street names do sometimes seen inordinately long. And did you notice that cat, giving me such a baleful look?

Continuing downhill we find the beginning of the trail to the Fonte, or spring. A lush green valley leads beneath lofty cliffs, the arid red of the Algarve soil revealed in the fissures. It reminds me greatly of my trip to Rocha da Pena, but today the weather is impeccable.

The trail winds along dustily, and becomes quite rock strewn in places. In Spring these nooks and crannies will be dressed in the finery of rock roses and lavender, with the promise of wild orchids. This late in the year colour is harder to find.

When finally I reach the Fonte, the bamboo and rushes are bleached almost colourless. A soft shushing noise betrays the presence of the water, a sign ‘olho’ pointing hopefully. A young couple are balanced on the rocks, trying to capture on camera the bubble of water as it rises and swirls in an ‘eye’. I carry on, knowing that I’ve seen it in far less parched surroundings.

These natural springs prevail throughout Portugal’s hills. This is ‘the eye’ in Springtime.

As we follow signs back to the village I wonder if the cheery basket maker is still there, with his whistles and bird imitators. I had purchased a wicker bowl last time, feeling sorry for him as he sat alone in the woods. It serves as a slightly wonky erstwhile fruit bowl. Many new arrivals are enjoying the unseasonally hot weather, and I feel sure that he will be enjoying good trade in his shady dell.

Remember that climb back into the village? I confess I had forgotten all about it. It took a while before I was puffing and panting back into the village square. There just has to be a reward, don’t you think?

Much later I discovered a video of the Fonte that I thought you might like to see.

There are a number of routes around the natural springs. Walking Trails of the Algarve pages 76 and 80 will give you shorter variations on this walk, or you can simply follow the signboards. This video will give you a glimpse of the basket maker. Please ignore the advertising. I hope you’ve got the kettle on, ready to join my walkers from your armchair?

Thanks so much, everybody, for your kind contributions to my walks. I wasn’t at all sure where to lead you this week but in the end I opted for sunshine, as Winter wraps itself around us here in the UK. I hope you enjoyed it. If you’d like to contribute anytime the details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above.

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I do like a tinker in a museum and a browse round a market. Geoff can tell you a story or two as well :

From Paddington to Page#walking#london

Woolly likes a little stroll, with not too much effort and some classy cars :

Jo’s-Monday-Walk-Car-Show

But sometimes he gets a little further :

Jo’s-Monday-Walk-Geelong-Foreshore

Jackie’s by the York River, in Yorktown. Virginia, of course!

Day 6- Yorktown

Nothing like a good fumble around the Albert Docks with Drake. He’s in his element!

Come and get it

Does anyone know what Pargeting is? Jude does, and I really love it :

Love Lavenham

Becky’s counting to 6 this week, but there are lots more than that!

There are pomegranates in the tree

While Carol’s fossil hunting and has found loads!

Buried Treasure

Or you could join Kathrin for a delicious trip to the beach :

A day at Solana Beach

How do you follow the legend that is Badfish? Why, with devotion, of course :

ONE FINE DAY in BRATISLAVA : Part III

That’s it for now. I think I’ll be walking in the UK again next week. Feel free to join me but, more importantly, take care till then.

Six word Saturday

Lazy leaf or a beach ‘bum’?

Drifting to the end of Verena’s Festival of leaves. You have one more week for sharing. Join Cate if you have six words spare.

Have a great week, and don’t get stressed over Christmas. It’ll come and it’ll go.

Wistful

An island escape

Goose stepping without the guilt

Free from all shackles

Fragile yet fearless

Fed on the ocean’s plenty

Simple paradise

Jo’s Monday walk : Flamboyant Autumn at Easby Abbey

Today’s walk is the reverse of one I took you on a couple of years ago. Remember the story of the little Drummer Boy? It really hadn’t been my intention to walk to Easby Abbey, but as the sun burst forth over the Autumn foliage I couldn’t imagine a finer place to be. Such a contrast with the creeping mist that enshrouded me last time.

This walk starts from The Station at Richmond, now a fine exhibition space with a rather nice eatery, ‘Seasons’. Have I been neglecting your stomachs lately? I know there has been a dearth of cream scones on here, but maybe you can make up for it later. Incentive to get you walking! From the rear of The Station a trail signed for Easby Abbey leads off into the woods.

The gurgle of water accompanies your footsteps, as you are walking above the fast flowing River Swale. Glimpses of it flaunt themselves through gaps in the trees, along with the wider view to the countryside beyond. Soon you come to a bridge. This morning it is rhymed with frost so tread a little carefully. Recent rain has ensured the boisterous nature of the water.

Once over the bridge the trail bends to the left and you are following the river more closely. My heart always goes pitter pat at the sight and sound of rushing water. Autumn finery weaves it’s own spell.

Bathed in sunlight, you can make out a grand looking residence through the trees, and soon you are in sight of the Abbey. The gatehouse stands silently, beyond a field where grazing horses sport their winter garb. The woolly sheep don’t seem to feel the same need.

Pastoral England at it’s finest, isn’t it? Let’s slip through the metal gate into the churchyard. The hamlet of Easby dates back to the Domesday survey of 1086, and the parish church of St. Agatha predates the Abbey. It also provides a wonderful vantage point over the Abbey ruins.

Easby Abbey was founded in about 1152, by Roald, a constable of Richmond in North Yorkshire. It was established as a Premonstratension monastery, whose origin came from Premontre in France. Most monks follow the 6th century Rule of St. Benedict, renouncing the world for a life of contemplation. The Easby monks followed the older rule of St. Augustine, meaning they served the community by preaching, teaching and charitable work, and could become parish priests. They lived communally but did not take monastic vows. They were ordained as canons (or priests), with the authority to celebrate mass and administer sacraments.

From the earliest times, sheep farming seems to have been a mainstay of Abbey life. Roald’s descendants continued to hold the constableship of Richmond and its lands throughout the 12th and 13th centuries. They were variously known as de Burton or de Richmond. By the 14th century the estates had been sold to the Scrope family, knights based at Bolton in neighbouring Wensleydale. The Scropes made Easby their burial place and the chancel of the Abbey church was lengthened. Prosperity seems to have continued until the suppression of the monasteries in 1536. Richmond defended its monks, but in retribution Henry VIII wrote that “St. Agatha and such other places as have made resistance… shall without pity or circumstance… be tied up (hanged) without further delay”. Destruction followed, but the remaining ruins are hauntingly beautiful.

Turning up the lane, another grandiloquent property looks down on you. I imagine much doffing of caps went on at St. Agatha’s House.

The field drops down towards the river again, and this time I find I can get really close. Leaf strewn steps lead down almost to the water’s edge and I am awash in Autumn’s tumultuous hues. Knotty tree roots protrude and I have to mind my step, but it’s like being in an enchanted forest.

Always before I have taken the higher route. My reward, a glimpse of a modern day Hansel and Gretel cottage, nestled in the woods.

The path meets the higher route at the Drummer Boy stone, and soon you can see distant Richmond Castle through the trees. Water trickles and drips down the mossy stone. It feels almost primeval.

Back at The Station, pause for refreshments, or carry on, as I do. I can never resist the lure of the falls, and there’s a bonus. Look who I found!

The tumult of the falls is breathtaking. As I walk back towards The Station, another little guy is watching me from the safety of a branch.

I hope you enjoyed sharing these last moments of Autumn. English Heritage provide a comprehensive history of the Abbey on their website, plus details of how to get there. I’d rather like to share this walk with Jude too. Her November theme for the Garden Challenge is Trees, and I think I’ve managed to find one or two. Let’s put the kettle on and settle in for a read now, shall we?

Huge thanks to all of you for the support I receive on here. Yet again I have a wonderful selection of walks to share. Please visit as many as you can. And if you happen to have a walk you’d like to share, well, what are you waiting for? Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page, or you can click on the logo above.

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I have so many Gaudi favourites! How about you? Lady Lee showcases this one beautifully :

Casa Batllo

Woolly’s strolling from the shopping centre this week :

Jo’s-Monday-Walk- Barwon Heads

Jude tries her hand at landscapes in Constable country, and makes a lovely job of it :

Walking in an artist’s footsteps

Kingston, Jamaica it’s not, but Stephanie makes her current home look very appealing :

A Walk through Downtown Kingston, WA

Jackie, meanwhile, is on the trail of more history in Virginia :

October 2016- Williamsburg, VA

While Liesbet explores California, with a very cute canine friend :

Sunny Sacramento

Yvette is never shy about sharing her views, but she shares a lot of love too :

Our Lady of Victory Basilica Lackawanna, NY

Another of those dreams I haven’t yet made come true. Thanks, BiTi!

Big Sur

Much more intimate, but no less delightful, Drake’s childhood home :

Big, big small world

Stamina or coffee! Which do I need to walk in Badfish’s footsteps? Don’t miss it!

One long road to Bratislava : Part II

I’m considering myself invited to the south coast so I can do this walk with Gilly. Any offers?

A South West Coast Path Walk

And finally, anyone up for a little skateboarding? Or you can just stroll, with Kathrin :

Skateboarding in Huntingdon Beach

Fantastic, aren’t they? That’s it for Autumn posts from me. Not sure where I’ll take you next week, but I hope you can come along. In the meantime, have a great week, and to all my US friends, Happy Thanksgiving!

Six Word Saturday

Is it hug a tree week?

I always feel a little sorry for trees at this time of year. All summer long they share luxuriant green shade. Come the Autumn they dazzle and glow, radiating joy. Then, slowly, one by one, their leaves drift away. Frail and naked, they are left to shiver forlornly, and tremble in the breeze.

But there’s still a little colour around, so let’s enjoy it while we can. To quote Verena, it’s a Festival of Leaves, isn’t it?

Jude is embracing Trees this November. Why not join her Garden Challenge? I’m off out to set those leaves whirling one more time. Have a great weekend, and don’t forget to share six words, will you?

Remember ‘Tommy’?

There have been so many moving tributes to the fallen heroes of the Battle of the Somme in its 100th anniversary year. In Seaham yesterday I witnessed another. Hundreds of pebbles have been collected from the local beach, hand painted red, and arranged in a poppy around ‘Tommy’. This emotive metal sculpture was designed by Ray Lonsdale and unveiled in 2014.

‘Paint it Red’ was the idea of David McKenna, a former soldier who has served in Northern Ireland, Bosnia and Kosovo with the Royal Regiment of Fusiliers. Six years ago he founded a local community group, Seaham Remembers Them. Cadets and veterans alike were involved in this project, which took 2 months to complete.

Afterwards I strolled on the beach, crunching through the pebbles with their weird and wonderful shapes, and feeling very lucky to be alive.

This article in the local press covers the event. You might remember a Monday walk I did when Tommy first arrived in Seaham.

Jo’s Monday walk : Aydon Castle

I still have a sackful of balmy, Algarve images to post but, here in England, the Autumn colour is fading fast. I thought I’d share this walk to Aydon Castle before the leaves have all departed. Though it’s just over the border into Northumberland, I’d never heard of this 13th century, fortified manor house until a couple of weeks ago.

I know lovely honey coloured Corbridge, where my walk starts, quite well. It’s riverside walks often tempt me. This is Roman Wall territory and there are any number of sites you can visit to delve back in time. Today though, I’m after a good tramp in the outdoors. No, don’t ask ‘which one?’

The walk starts from the free car park, just over the bridge, where you will also find a helpful map and suggestions for other trails in the neighbourhood. Cross over the bridge and head gently up through the town, bearing to the right.

Corbridge is a very genteel and affluent looking place. Not easy to imagine the Scottish border raids that once were a regular feature of this area. Livestock were often brought in from the fields at night, and a watch placed at each end of town to protect them from marauders. Way before that, Corbridge was the most northerly town in the Roman Empire.

Keep a watch for a signpost off to the left. Aydon Castle is one and a half miles from this point, initially following a narrow lane and then a footpath beside a lovely old stone wall. It’s a bit of a surprise to find yourself walking next to the noisy A69 but, once you cross the road bridge over this busy highway, you are again enfolded in English countryside. Did you notice the kilns off across the fields? It was my intention to circle around to see them on the return leg, but that didn’t quite happen.

The sheep are quietly contemplative, their fleece crisply white against the shimmering autumn foliage. Ahead, the trail drops down into the woods and weaves in and out of dappled shade. It’s a bit of a climb up towards the Castle.

Suddenly the solid walls are right there in front of you. Robert de Reymes, a wealthy merchant, built a manor house here, beside the Cor Burn, in 1296. It was originally a 2-storey building but in 1305 he obtained a licence to add battlements, crenellations and curtain walls. Despite this it was pillaged and burnt by the Scots in 1315. Two years later the English recaptured it, only to lose it again to the Scots in 1346.

In the middle of the 16th century the building was renovated, and mid 17th century it was converted into a farm. It remained a farm until 1966.

It is a remarkably solid building. Information panels showing the floor plans are strategically placed and, on the ground floor, there’s a charming storybook on a sturdy wooden table. Sunlight dances off the wall hangings in the regal hall. I find myself gazing at the rough roof tiles, high above the timber beams. The patterns intrigue.

Outside, Autumn continues to glow. I hope for a tearoom attached to the Castle, currently managed by English Heritage, but a small shop has to suffice. Lunch proves to be a bar of fudge and a hot chocolate, clutched for warmth. Still, it’s a fairytale setting and I’m not disappointed.

Leaving the castle behind, there are decisions to be made. Left or right? Left is a longer walk, which passes by the pottery kilns, but the light is already beginning to fade. I’m afraid that good sense prevails. A country lane eventually leads back to Corbridge.

I have some bad news for you. The Castle is now closed until April next year. I caught the last weekend, but the location is still lovely. The English Heritage website provides all the details, and if you want the full 6 mile circuit, pottery kilns included, this is how. There are some great pubs for food in Corbridge, if you’ve time to linger. Here it’s time to put the kettle on and settle in for a good read.

Many thanks to all for your wonderful contributions again this week. Your enthusiasm and support drives me ever onward. Hope you enjoyed this week’s walk. It’s easy to join in, if you’d like. Details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. Just click on the logo above.

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Debbie has a delicious waterside stroll for us this week. But do take care of your ankles!

Walking the Path of Customs

Desmond has a barrow in the market place. Molly is the singer with the band. Thanks Drake!

Ob-la-di, ob-la-da

Pink houses, peach houses, or how about lemon? Jude, in colourful Colchester :

A brief look at Colchester

Violet has found us some more delights this week! And it’s not even snowing! (Yet!)

Polar bears in a park

Anabel tests her fitness levels and comes out on top!

Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone River

And looking at glorious locations, not much can top this. Thanks, Lady Lee!

Monserrat, Spain – the trip of a lifetime

Jackie’s in Jamestown. I’m pretty sure it wasn’t named after my son :

Day 4 – Jamestown

Woolly is waving goodbye this week :

Jo’s-Monday-Walk-The-Promenade

While Paula has a very special, luminous night time stroll to share :

Thursday’s Special: Pick a Word in November

And Susan has searched out some very beautiful fountains in Central Park :

Central Park’s North End

You can almost hear the noise from Carole’s Mute Swans! They’re fabulous :

Swanning Around

Next please let me introduce Unicorn and Bear, a hiking couple from Canada :

Grouse Mountain and Lynn Canyon, North Shore of Vancouver

Miriam’s feeling a bit adventurous this week, and why not?

Waterfall Therapy in Trentham

I wouldn’t get far on Kathryn’s walk because there’s a recycle book store. Serious temptation!

Campbell downtown

That’s it for another week. Hope you all have a good one. See you soon!

Six word Saturday

Through Autumn’s golden gown we used….

…to kick our way. You always loved this time of year.” Was ever there a more haunting Autumn anthem? The Moody Blues song always echoes in my head as the season draws to its close. Don’t you love the gleeful expression of the guy hoovering up the leaves, and that little intent group by the pond? There’s so much to love about this life.

I’m putting the miseries firmly behind me and having one more flurry with Verena’s Festival of Leaves. It’s a little drab and grey here today but there’s always joy to be found. This afternoon I shall be celebrating a 70th with a rather special gent. (no, not mine!) Make the most of your weekend, won’t you, and don’t forget to share six words.

Ascending

Ascending through grey

Slicing sad, foreboding clouds.

Miracle of flight

I’m struggling a bit with blogging at the minute. All the zap seems to have gone out of me. It’s natural enough, I suppose. I hate these grey skies and Dad’s loss has left an emptiness. The day I left Faro was one of the longest in my life. The sky itself felt full of sorrow, and I both wanted, but dreaded, to be home again. But down on the Praia life went on. A battle with the elements that held me captive for a few sweet moments.

If there’s one thing you can rely on it’s that Thursday’s Special, and that Paula will do her best to make it so. Thanks, lovely lady.

Jo’s Monday walk : The Masmorra Trail

In total contrast to last week’s walk, I’m taking you up into the Algarve hills today. Winding 43kms north of Tavira on a delicious roller coaster of a road, you will find the sleepy village of Cachopo. We can stop there on the way back, but for now we’re following signs for Martim Longo. High up, the scenery is beautiful, even though wearing its scorched autumn gown.

A left turn and you’re on barely surfaced roads that lead you, slowly, through three scarcely known villages to your ultimate destination, Mealha. Why so much effort, you might be wondering? Dolmens, or standing stones are the answer. I’m taking a step back in time to the 3rd millennia BC. But first, the village of Mealha, not without its own charms, including these witches’ hat buildings.

These circular buildings, with a conical roof, are known as ‘palheiros’ and are designed to store hay for cattle. Made of slate, the roofs are constructed of reeds from the river bed and ‘thatched’ with hay. Up to 6 metres in diameter and 2.5 metres high, it is not unknown for them to have provided dwelling places in the past. A little cramped, I think.

Distracted as I am, taking photos of the pointed huts and wells, I leave navigation to my partner. He’s usually reliable, but on this occasion it takes 3 false starts to escape the clutches of the village. Despite knowing smiles and hand signs from the villagers, we find ourselves scaling walls, only to end up in a cabbage patch. Not shown on the map! We cross the ‘ribeirinha’, the river bed, and fortunately dry, in entirely the wrong place. Eventually we manage to get back on track, but never with any great conviction. It’s a warm day and I am concerned to conserve our water rations.

Some of the confusion arises because there are 3 trails leading out of the village. We are attempting to follow PR8, which we take to be the Masmorra Trail featured in our guide book. Much of the route seems to be uphill, but the sky has cleared to that lovely blue again, with a nice cooling breeze. More uncertainty as the trails cross over each other, but upwards seems to be the right choice.

Not quite in despair, we are very relieved to spot, in the distance, a pair of ruined windmills. Thank heavens, we are still on course, and we know that the dolmens are close by. True to form, I almost pass them by.

“They’ll only be tiny” said the voice of reason. I hadn’t expected them to be huge, but I could quite easily have gone romping down the other side of the hill and missed them completely. Fortunately, one of us is paying attention. After all, how big does a burial chamber need to be? Somewhat irreverently I hop down inside, in hot pursuit of a dozing lizard. In seconds he is alert and shimmying off into a crevice.

The Masmorra ‘anta’, or burial chamber, is 3.20 metres in diameter and comprised of 9 vertically positioned slabs. The access would have been covered and was through a lower corridor, facing east and aligned to coincide with sunrise at the Summer Solstice. The coverings have disappeared but the slab for the chamber would have been very large. The ‘antas’ are always positioned on high ground, and often marking a territorial boundary. They helped to dissuade unwelcome visitors with their magical, religious aura.

The route back to Mealha was short, downhill and very straightforward, which had us wondering if we mightn’t have been better to tackle it the other way around. Hindsight is a wonderful thing. You might like to compare my account with that of Becky, who was there last year.

Did you realise that I was going to link this post to Paula? It’s perfect for Traces of the Past, isn’t it? Then we’ll have a swift look at Cachopo. The intention was to have a leisurely lunch and rest our weary feet. Palmeiras bar had the prettiest little vine covered garden, but no food. Trying her very best, the lovely lady behind the counter produced a dish of fresh monkey nuts to accompany our wine. Oh, well…

This walk is featured on page 104 in Walking Trails of the Algarve, should you decide to give it a go. If not you might prefer a little wander in the back streets of Cachopo. Now let’s get the kettle on, shall we?

Another bumper selection of wonderful walks this week. I know it takes time but do please find a moment to visit. So much effort goes into these walks and I’m very appreciative. If you’d like to join me, details are on my Jo’s Monday walk page. All are welcome.

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I know nothing about Williamsburg, but Jackie’s soon going to put that right!

Day 3, Williamsburg VA

Violet Sky has a real treat in store this week. Don’t miss this one!

Mums on parade

Jesh always has something a little different for you :

Nostalgic Walk

30 years of walking sounds fearful! Only joking, Geoff :

30 years on…#walking

Making the most of this lovely Autumn with Little Miss Traveler :

An autumn stroll around Burley-inWharfedale

And I have a lovely new contributor- welcome Woolly!