Alentejo

Jo’s Monday walk : Alcácer do Sal

We had two choices for places to stay on our anniversary.  Alcácer do Sal was somewhere we bypassed on the way to Lisbon a few years ago.  What made it remarkable and worthy of a visit was the setting, and accompanying rice fields.  Fairly uncommon in Portugal.

You’ll notice a cloud or two in the sky?  When we awoke it was positively grey and the view we’d enjoyed of the castle at Santiago do Cacém had completely disappeared in swirling mist.  By the time we’d had breakfast, gazing hopefully into the gloom, it was sprinkling the finest rain.  I smiled determinedly through an endless succession of damp cork trees as we headed north.

I sometimes wonder if I was a princess in a former life, because I have this tendency to head for castles.  And so it was, in Alcácer.  We approached on the N120, from Grandola, crossing the Rio Sado on a metal bridge, which opens to allow passage of sailing boats, before the river widens into the estuary.  Directly ahead, overlooking the tumble of streets, the castle.  And the good news- it had stopped raining!

One of us wanted to find the TI and obtain a map, for the best way to ascend.  The other wanted to follow her nose.  Any of a number of narrow streets headed upwards, and I was impatient to get there, before the castle closed for lunch at 12.30.  We dithered, and dawdled, but the TI didn’t appear to be where my 16 years old Rough Guide alleged.  No help for it but to head on up!

A straggle of streets yielded fountains, lovely old azulejo tiles and dwellings old, and not so old.  Portugal’s usual blend of colour and character.  Alcácer comes from the Arabic word for palace, Al-qasr, and in 1191 the Almohad Caliph Ya’qub Al-Mansur gave orders to build his palace.  For many years it was a stage for fights between Christians and Muslims.

Easy to see that it was a strategic position for the defence of the area, evidence of building on this site dates back to Neolithic times.  The current structure is a rare example of a military rammed earth fortress, and what remains looks extremely solid.

But, of course, it was the views down onto the town that delighted me.  Fit for a princess!

Sometimes things go to plan.  Sometimes they don’t.  It had been my intention, by way of celebrating our anniversary, to venture into the former convent, now a luxurious pousada, to quaff a glass of their finest.  But I was thwarted by a sign at the door, announcing that, due to Covid-19, only hotel guests were permitted entry.  In my annoyance I almost certainly missed a trick, because I spurned the Archaeological Crypt, which adjoins the pousada.  I’m not fond of underground excavations, but sometimes they hold vital clues to the past.  Wilful head on, I determined that a quayside café would suffice in the quest for refreshment.

Meandering back down the hill, we chanced upon the perfect little getaway, complete with pool and view.  We’ve never had the bottle and determination needed to tackle a renovation project in Portugal, but there were opportunities aplenty on this hillside.  A small dog looked back at us, cocking his leg beside one, highly likely, possibility.  Down on the quayside, we at once spotted the missing Tourist Information office, right beside the bridge we had crossed into town.  A very willing assistant eagerly pointed out the high spots of Alcácer, including, of course, the Crypt that we really shouldn’t miss.  She did, though, direct us to the fishing village at Carrasqueira.

Meanwhile, we searched for the perfect confection, but it wasn’t till much later in the day that we finally succeeded, back in Santiago do Cacém.

You could say that we searched high and low.  But he was delighted with his chocolate cake.  As was I.  It didn’t last long!

All’s well that ends well, or so they say, and we certainly had an interesting few days in the Alentejo.  Hope you enjoyed them?

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A bumper collection of walks this week!  Hopefully I haven’t missed anybody, though looking in the Reader this morning there are lots of goodies.

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I keep the very best company around here, don’t I, Jude?

Another Hill, Another View

Let’s go ghost busting with Debs!  In broad daylight, so you’re all safe!

Ghostly creep around Greyfriars Cemetery

Janet cheats a bit, but very beautifully.  Why not let horses take the strain?

Monday walk… for the horses

It’s always a privilege to walk alongside Cee (and finally, she has a fridge!  🙂  )

Jo’s Monday Walk and Which Way Challenges – Swan Island Dahlia in Canby, Oregon

Meet Tina!  We’ve decided to find joy together :

Finding joy

Colline savours the last of her freedom before it’s back to school :

Walking Under the Bridge

Drake dines in the nicest places, and always with coffee :

Uphill lunch

History blows in the wind

Prepare to be dazzled!  This is purely beautiful :

Songdo: In the City of Blinding Light

Or visit the lovely Ardenne in company with Denzil :

Walking around the megaliths of Wéris

I have something to share with Tish, as well as a walk :

After the Storm: Big Skies on Wenlock Edge

 

Carob beans

From carob beans to daffodils.  Now there’s a leap for you!  Thanks, Albert :

Sherwood Homestead (Former) Walk via East-West Road

Rupali has found the perfect place to spend a day, high in the mountains :

Weekend 104: Just in time

And in Shanghai, Janaline shares a little of the earth’s laughter :

Monday Walk among the Blossoms

Whilst Ulli has found himself a small piece of heaven :

Feldberg in Mecklenburg-West Pomerania

That’s me worn out for another week!  Not sure that I’ll be walking with you next Monday, but I’ll keep you posted.  Have a good one, and take care!

Six word Saturday

Still playing with moods, and colour

Black and white can look a bit bleak to me, but inject a hint of colour and the mood changes completely, doesn’t it?  Brian was a bit naughty with his response to Jude’s 2020 Photo Challenge but I think we might have got away with it.  Meantime, strange things are happening on Six Word Saturday.  Have a great weekend, everyone!

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Jo’s Monday walk : Miróbriga

Last week we took a look at the town of Santiago do Cacém and its lovely castelo.  With only a couple of nights away from home there was little time for putting our feet up so, having checked in to our hotel, it was hot foot to the Roman ruins of Miróbriga.

One kilometre north west of the town, it would have been an easy drive, but some people like to do things the hard way.  When we finally arrived the site did not look too imposing, but the Romans seldom got it wrong so, bypassing the small museum, we set off to explore.

Wikipedia tells me that these Roman baths are among the best preserved in Portugal, and I do have a bit of a fondness for baths.  The settlement here appears to date back to the Iron Age, the Romans occupying and extending the site from the second half of the 1st century.

I talked about mood the other day, and how some places affect you more than others.  Although this is a sizeable site, with very visible paved Roman roads and the remnants of many shops and residences, it didn’t whisper to me as these places sometimes do.  It shouldn’t have been hard to picture a toga-less Roman or two lolling at their ablutions, discussing politics and which wench they had an eye for.  But somehow I couldn’t tune in to the gossip, as I might have done at beautiful Ammaia, near Marvão.

Information boards were plentiful and specific, giving details of the hypocaust system which heated the floor of the baths.  To the east of these is a small, single arch bridge which leads to the forum and temples.  It was here, if anywhere, that I felt the weight of history, crumbling in the cracks and uneven surfaces of the crazed paving slabs.

There were not many other visitors this late in the day, and it was easy to slip into the lodging house to examine the remains of ancient wall paintings, and finally to the elevated position of the forum and Imperial temple.

I gazed in vain for the Hippodrome, the only one in Portugal whose entire ground plan is known.  It was left to me to imagine the thunder of chariots, echoing in the silent Alentejo countryside.

Can you believe that in all this long day not a morsel of cake had passed our lips?  Where’s the justice, I hear you cry!  Where’s the cake?

A small café looked across to the ruins and we rested our weary legs there, listening to a couple of locals discuss their day.  Pickings were slim, as we might have been, because it wasn’t easy to find a restaurant to accommodate us that evening.  So, I’m afraid I’m going to have to keep you dangling till next week, when Michael finally gets his chocolate cake.  But I can leave you with a fine windmill and a heap of cork, observed on our walk back to the hotel.

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Thanks everyone, for keeping me company.  Time to share a few walks.  I shall have one last for you, from the Alentejo, next week.  Feel free to join me there, on Jo’s Monday walk.

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Fishing quotas can have disastrous effects, but they take Eunice on a really interesting walk :

A walk to Fleetwood wrecks

Go adventuring with Alice!

Fort Morris State Historic Site

Janet is home from the Wyoming she loves.  Lots of choices to share :

Monday walk…walk, ride or drive?

Which path will you choose?  Yvette would like to know :

Pathways – Monday Walk with Jo

Wondering how Drake’s feeling this week?

Blue mood

A walk through a very sad period in history, with Denzil :

The Reconstruction of Ypres

Sharing the beauty of this world, with Rupali :

Weekend 103: Trees and Trees

And finally, blow a few cobwebs away as we tramp across the Moors with Margaret :

A Bleak Walk is Just Perfect

Take care, all!  It’s a funny old world out there, isn’t it?

Six word Saturday

Isn’t it all about the mood?

I was asked this week if I never go anywhere that I don’t like.  I’m usually pretty upbeat on my travels and can almost always find something beautiful to share.  But not everywhere has the same appeal, and disappointments do arise.

A dramatic poster picture of Carrasqueira at sunset promised much.  Built on stilts, over the mud flats of the Sado estuary, the fishing village enables access to their boats for the fisherfolk.  But in the bright light of day, with the tide out and a sludge of malodorous ooze, I found it hard to love.  I don’t think my camera felt the same way, do you?

Happy weekend, and don’t forget to play Six Word Saturday!

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Jo’s Monday walk : Santiago do Cacém

‘Where shall we go for our anniversary, hon?’  Greeted with the usual shrug and ‘anywhere you want’.  After 31 years I know he doesn’t mean this literally, and current circumstances are such that even I hesitated to suggest anywhere too exciting.  Chicago, Japan and the Isles of Scilly passed fleetingly through my mind, before I settled on a more practical choice, the Alentejo.  Not too far, in driving terms, from our Algarve home, and much of it, for us, still uncharted territory.

The Troia peninsula, just south of Setúbal, holds great appeal, but it’s high summer and the beach hotels are expensive and likely too busy.  So, pointing my nose in that general direction, I settled on slightly obscure but potentially interesting, Santiago do Cacém.  A castle and a church, perched high on a hill.  What could be better….?  Yes, that was the spouse’s reaction when he saw the height of the hill in question.  But we started slowly, chancing upon the TI, beautifully located in gardens, and with an adjoining café.

I freely admit that I had little idea of what else there might be to see, but the gentleman in the TI was very helpful.  We had already passed signs for the Roman ruins of Miróbriga, on the outskirts of town. Time to start a gentle ascent to the castle.  There’s nothing I like better than a meander through quirky streets of crumbling houses, shored up by their smart neighbours, and with a smattering of compelling street art.

A towering pink fire station, dangling laundry, a neglected church with chorus of cherubs and Manueline doorway, a square with pelourinho (or pillory) and magnificently rusted door handles.  Not a bad haul for a couple of streets.  And the tiny courtyard with the shrine to a beloved pet.

So many distractions, I had scarcely noticed the gradient of our climb but finally we reached the Castelo de Santiago do Cacém, built by the Moors.

Originally the castle had 10 square towers and semi-cylindrical turrets, externally defended by a barbican, some of which have survived.  The ancient church of Santiago is integrated into the south east wall.  I had forgotten that the castle, abandoned in the 1700s, had become the town’s cemetery in the 19th century.  Glancing through the archway I saw the tombs and hesitated, not wanting to be disrespectful.  The palace and gardens of the Condes de Avillez adjoin the castle, and for a while I wandered in their atmospheric shade.

Then realisation dawned, and we entered the grounds of the ruined castle.

Rarely have I been in a more serene and lovely place.  I wandered among the tombstones, marveling at the details, and then climbed to the castle walls.  A solitary caretaker was busy removing and tidying, and gave us a cheery wave.

Reluctantly I made my way back through the stone archway, but there was another treat to come.  The door to the Santiago Church was ajar, and I stepped quietly inside.  A lovely young woman beamed at me and gestured that I should come in and enjoy the beautiful surrounds.

The gilded wood carvings told of hours of craftsmanship.  We exchanged smiles again, behind our masks, complicit in our appreciation.  Heading downhill, there was still a colourful surprise in store.  An art gallery, maybe?  I wasn’t sure.

I hope you enjoyed today’s wander.  We had the best view from a hotel room that I can remember in quite some time, and we made it to the top of the hill.  Next week I’ll take you to Miróbriga and the Roman ruins.

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Thanks again everyone, for the appreciation and for keeping me company on my rambles.  Not too many walks to share this week, so please find time to visit.  And if you have a walk you’d like to share, feel free!

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Gentle humour and a beautiful landscape, with a flurry of facts.  Thank you, Margaret!

In Search of a Druid or a Trout – Revisited

Do you know Lisa?  These photos are simply stunning!

Sunsets after work

It looks like life goes on as normal on Lîle de Ré, and very lovely it looks, too.  Thanks, Drake!

Forwards and backwards

Perle de l’Atlantique

Hooked on

Maybe even more serene and beautiful, Ulli shows us :

Sunny Stechlin – On the Trails of Theodor Fontane

Anabel is always hot on the trail, unless it’s raining, of course :

East Dunbartonshire: Trails + Tales

Susan is taking very mindful steps these days :

Walking small

While Rupali takes a hike, under the sun :

Weekend 102: Hiking again

Another week gone.  Halfway through an Algarve summer, where I sometimes feel the need to escape the heat.  Santiago do Cacém was rather a lovely place to do it.  Have a good week and see you next time!

On Top of the World

It was a strange day.  We had driven back from the north east of Portugal, and decided to spend a night in Serpa before returning to our Algarve home.  When we ventured out next morning the whole place was deserted, closing down as the virus approached.  No possibility of visiting the Museum of Watches, as planned, but we were delighted to find the castle walls still accessible.  A grey mist hung over the town, adding to the sombreness of the mood.  Gradually it lifted and, for a moment, we were feeling on top of the world.

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Jo’s Monday walk : Beja Blues

Last week was such a dreamy post, wasn’t it?  I’m moving a little nearer home, and reality, this week, to the main town of the Baixa Alentejo.  It was a long haul, going north to Marváo, and we decided to break the journey at Beja, where we had a little unfinished business.  Namely, the Convent of Our Lady of Conception, part of the Regional Museum of Beja since 1927.  Foolishly we had tried to visit once before, on a Monday but, like most other churches and museums in Portugal, it was closed on that day.

I’ve never really hit it off with Beja.  Some places speak volumes to me, others simply mutter.  Beja comes in that last category.  Still, everywhere deserves a second chance, and I knew that the museum was worth visiting.  The day had turned sullen as we left the Algarve, and the skies hung heavy over the castle.  Not an auspicious start, and the square in front of the castle was being dug up and re-tiled.  Skirting around a digger, I looked in through the Cathedral doors, not feeling inclined to linger.  I knew that the museum would be closing soon for lunch.

It’s a short distance through the narrow streets to the Convent square.  The former Convento da Conceição was founded in 1459 by Dom Fernando, brother of Afonso V of Portugal, and his wife Dona Beatriz.  Part of the Franciscan order, it was one of the richest and most important in the country.

Now part of the Rainha Dona Leonor Regional Museum, a hush descended as we entered through the Manueline portico, beneath beautifully curved arches.  Immediately in front of us, the church.  The lights were low and my eyes took a moment or two to adjust.

The first thing to hold my gaze was the tiled azulejo panel, dated 1741 and depicting the life, birth and death of St. John the Baptist.  The church is covered in carved wood and gold leaf, dating back to the 17th century.  Excessive to modern eyes, as was the array of highly polished silverware from the 18th century.  I felt truly grateful not to be the lady with the polish, but I did admire the altar of inlaid marble.

Leaving the subdued atmosphere of the church, I found myself in fabulously, fully tiled cloisters.  This was what I had come to see.  There is always an atmosphere of soothing calm to cloisters, and the soft glow of sunlight enhanced their beauty.

Beautiful, isn’t it?  Even in its unrestored state, it’s one of my favourite pieces.  But there’s no doubt there is money to be spent here… one day!

Some of the detail was extraordinary, but don’t take my word for it.  Becky does it so much better in Convento de Nossa Senhora da Conceicáo’s Extraordinary Azulejos  Speaking of the lovely lady, are you taking part in #SquareTops today?  It’s a blockbuster!  Here are my two.

The colours and mix of styles is captivating.  I’ve seen many cloisters here in Portugal, but none quite like these.

I ventured up the stairs, hoping to be able to get out onto the roof space, but it was closed to the public.  I learned instead of Mariana Alcorforado, a nun at the Convento, who fell in love with a French officer.  Noel Bouton, Count de Chamilly, was in Beja with his troops in 1666.   The evidence of her unrequited love lives on in five love letters.  The fabric below, I included for my daughter.  She loves antique embroidery!

Back in the open, we found a café in the square overlooking the museum.  It was unbelievably quiet, though the virus had barely been heard of.  I wasn’t really hungry but wanted to sit peacefully with a glass of wine, before continuing our journey.  We ordered a toastie, but the waitress explained that they didn’t sell wine.  We could, though, buy it at the store next door!  Seeing our baffled faces, she must have taken pity on us.  Five minutes later she reappeared from next door, bearing two very delicious glasses of wine.  I think perhaps Beja looked better for it.

A wander through the streets revealed a strange mish-mash of old and new.  I didn’t really warm to Beja, but it doesn’t lack for character and humour.  And there’s a chance I’ll return, for I’ve realised that a substantial part of the museum is sited within the Church of Santo Amaro, beyond the castle walls.  Oh, dear!  But I did enjoy the street art.

They say a cat can look at a king!  Or a queen, in Becky’s case.  Do join her!

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Let’s share some walks now, shall we?  I’ve a humdinger to start with!  In Portugal too, with Debbie :

Remains of past industry

While Drake takes us to that tiny island he knows so well :

A fugitive crosses his tracks

And Terri shares some truly spectacular scenery :

Walking in the Valley of Fire

Everybody round to Margaret’s for Drenched Lemon Cake!  Well, virtually, anyway  🙂

Round the Edge of the Village: It’s All About the Texture

We can no longer walk on our beaches in the Algarve, so this is very poignant from Miriam :

Virtual walking on Phillip Island

In the early morning mists, we find Irene :

View from the Top

With first hand knowledge of China, share this epic journey with Indra :

Suzhou… Gossamer Antiquity

Always with a gentle, distinctive touch, there’s no mistaking Lynn’s love for nature :

LOCAL WALKS: Heart Lake

While Rupali looks at her world through eyes filled with beauty :

Simplicity

And Cathy experiences the excesses of tourism in Italy.  Certainly not any longer!

The Cinque Terre: A crowded hike to Vernazza

I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for another cuppa.  Did somebody mention cake?  Please, stay safe out there!

Jo’s Monday walk : Magnificent Marvão

Dawn breaks over the castle at Marvão, serene and beautiful.  I had been niggling for a little while.  ‘Can we have a few days away?’ before company arrives and the summer hots up.  How lucky was I?  A virus was nibbling away at all our lives.  The situation was to take a turn for the worse in my absence.  But I was granted a reprieve.  Pure escapism!  To the border country, on the heights of the Alentejo, here in Portugal.

It was a little drab on our arrival, cloud pressing down on our heads, but undeterred we took to the walls.  Finding them full of rich promise.

As evening settled around us, slowly, a break in the clouds, and the last of the sun’s warmth painted the sky.  Coral tones, delighting my heart.

I could hardly wait to see what the next day would bring!  The world floated beneath me, the natural park of the Serra de Sáo Mamede.  Ahead the proud and mighty castle, never yet conquered, with its petticoat of gardens, and a fountain playing gently in the dusk.  Nearby the Igreja Santiago seemed still to be open.  Timidly I poked my head inside, to be greeted with a welcoming smile.

Gratefully we returned to the hotel for supper.  Although the forecast for the next day was good, I wasn’t overly confident, but it dawned with clouds high and puffy in a beautiful blue sky.  I would be able to see Marvão at its glorious best.

Much of the village is in pristine condition, but here and there a door or window caught my eye.  A candidate for a little affection.

Personality and gentle humour seem to characterise Marvão, but nothing overshadows the castle, looking down on the village from its granite crag.

The cisterna is remarkable for its size, 10 metres by 46.  It was built to gather sufficient rainwater to last 6 months, in case of siege.  There is no other natural source on the peak of the mountain, almost 900 metres above sea level.

Just beyond the castle, the former Igreja da Santa Maria is now a very beautiful museum.

We had much to see in the valley below, but later that evening we returned to Marvão for supper, to find the castle floodlit.

The photo quality is poor, but I know you always appreciate cake.  You may have realised that I was completely smitten with Marvão.  We were leaving the next day and, desperate for one last look, I crept out of the hotel at dawn, entranced by the mists floating in the valley.

I had not intended to return to blogging so soon, but much is happening in our world, and for me you are all a part of that.  On our return, Portugal had closed schools and suspended all public and social events.  Group activities are at an end, restaurants are reducing numbers if not closing, and now the border with Spain is closed.  It is all precautionary and time will tell how effective it will be, but meantime I shall try to brighten your lives, as I always have.  And, of course, there are walks to share.

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Rupali, reminding me what snow looks like (and it does snow in Marvão, but not on my visit)

Just a walk…

Liesbet has a little fun, and gets licked!

Happy Cows – A Walk in the Field

Drake knows Paris better than most of us :

Feeling at home out

Miriam brings us beautiful vistas, in her own special way :

Wild about the Grampians

While Cathy continues to be beautifully disgruntled in Rome!

Promises, promises in the Vatican Museums

And Margaret?  Well, it seems she likes wallowing in mud  🙂

Roughly the Same Walk as Last Week

That’s it for now.  Take good care of yourselves, and don’t loose heart.  We’re all in this together!

Jo’s Monday walk : Mértola’s 10th Islamic Festival

Time to stray across the border again.  A different border this time, crossing the northern boundary between the Algarve and Alentejo, and high into the hills above the River Guadiana, to wonderful Mértola.  A place so rich in beauty and history it almost hurts, not least because of the steep gradient of its streets.

I was there on a mission.  The 10th Islamic Festival had come to town, and my good friend Becky had advised me not to miss it.  Interested in all things archaeological, I knew that she had been impressed with her exploration of the ruins there, but more of that later.  For now, let’s bring on the dancing girls, to the insidious beat of the drum, as they snake beneath the castle walls.

Sumptuous smells assault the senses, and materials of every conceivable shade waft and billow above and around you.  Lanterns glisten and twinkle in the light as you are transported back through time, to the Souk.  The drum beat fades as you stop to browse the stalls.  Leather bags and sandals and slippers in every style imaginable, mounds of spices, nuts and tiny cakes fight for your attention.  The stall holders smile, and try to barter with any potential customer.  Beautifully fragrant soaps claim to be good for the environment, as well as your skin.  It is overwhelming, but fascinating.

In a quieter corner, beneath the castle walls, craftsmen ply their trades.  Exquisitely carved woods, a loom for weaving, gleaming metal jugs and canisters, artfully and painstakingly decorated.  Some items are extremely useful, others prized purely for their beauty.

Below the castle, Igreja Matriz awaits, her doors invitingly open.  I enter reverently, delighted by this rare opportunity.  Behind the altar, the remains of the mihrab from the 12th century mosque, since converted to a Christian temple.

A garden slopes away behind the church, and I look down upon the makeshift roofs of the market to the Guadiana, far below.

But then, the icing on the cake!  And please don’t take that literally.  In the many years that I’ve been visiting Mértola, I’ve been aware of an archaeological dig.  Becky alerted me to the fact that great progress had been made and, sure enough, the gate was open.  Firstly you are invited inside a life-sized replica of an Islamic home.

15 such dwellings were found in the surrounding area.  The 70cm foundations were of stone, the walls of taipa (rammed earth) and the roofs, sloping down to the patio, Roman roof tiles placed on a layer of canes.  The floor was usually of beaten earth and inside walls adobe (mud brick).

Much of the detail is lost, but information panels reconstruct and explain some of what was once there.  An Episcopal palace in 6AD and a style of living far beyond the grandeur we have today.  It must have been fine to saunter in the cool, between the columns, and sit contemplating those carefully wrought hunting scenes at the end of another hot day, the sound of water tinkling in the background.

The castle watches sombrely over the graveyard and the ruins below.  I climb to its heights where, from the castle walls, I can sweep my gaze over the terrain beyond.  The distinctive shape of the church below is like a beacon.

Things are beginning to bustle down below, and preparations to feed the hungry are going full pelt.  I have walked past innumerable vendors of caramelised nuts, twitching my nose appreciatively, but it’s time for something more substantial.  Overhead the washing flaps.

The Mértola website is a feast of information.  I can’t believe that it was actually back in May 2016 that I last took you strolling there.  At that time I hoped to attend the biennial Islamic Festival in 2017.  They say all good things come to those that wait.  I’d have to agree.

Just one more hill to climb, for the view, of course.

I’m aware that this is a bit of a blockbuster of a post, but it will be my last walk with you for a while, so I hope you’ll indulge me.  Next week I’m off to the Azores and I will be a whirl of panic and packing next Monday.

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There’ll be stories to tell when I get back!  Meantime you can still send your walks and I’ll catch up when I can.  Thanks so much for the support and good company.  Here are some more great reads :

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Bluebell time ‘back home’.  It passes so quickly!  Let Debbie show you the way :

A walk into the land of fantasy

One treat always follows another around here.  Bask in the land of beauty, with Jude :

Fairy Flowers

Hopefully the floods have subsided since Janet sent me this walk.  Glad she’s keeping an eye on things :

Monday walk…walking on water

There’s always space for an oddity around here.  Especially when it’s from Dad’s homeland :

The Crooked Wood in Pomerania/Poland

It’s a while since I walked with Denzil.  He’s very knowledgeable about his native Belgium :

On foot through the Hageland

What do you know about Norway’s Constitution Day? I’m sure Rupali can enlighten you :

Weekend: National Day

Ever rambled with a Wombat?  Maybe you should try it!

A walk around Lake Ginninderra

There’s something about waterfalls that gets me every time.  Thanks, Carol!

A Different View

Irene’s sharing beautiful flowers this week.  I expect she’d like some company :

Walk in the Garden

And it wouldn’t be Monday without a Cathy’s Camino walk or two, would it?

(Camino day 16) Villamayor del Rio to Viillafranca Montes de Oca

(Camino day 17) Villafranca Montes de Oca to Atapuerca

‘Don’t cry for me Argentina!’  A city of history and beauty shared, with affection, by Susan :

Walking Buenos Aires, Argentina

That’s all for now, folks!  Take good care till the next time.