64.23 Portugal: Geres: PR3: A dull day 'sated in color', lake blocked by fog. 64.24: PR3: The circuit on a mild day, lake views prominent.

'No sun today', but it matters not.

Sun today as we have full exposure to Lake Canicada...lake shots all taken on the circuit sunny hike day.

Confluence of the two bridges, a focal point for us. 

 A clear day treat, just beat the fog.

A segment of the lake, as calm as we've seen, near the power station.
Jen negotiates the underfoot, slippery in many positions.
Taking a peek over the peak after the weather cleared.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

64.22 Portugal: The Algarve: A hike at Albufeira do Arade.

We reach a highpoint on one side of the dam on a dull day, hence, 'blueless' surface.
On the other side of the dam above the wall.
  We drove into the interior searching for a dam hike. Upon arriving at what was apparently a commencement point, we were 'welcomed' by a hunter in camouflage uniform and of course, with a rifle. ‘Welcomed’ is somewhat of an exaggeration. Expressed differently, he had yet to fire the rifle or even point it in our direction. While I'd like to believe, at a minimum, we were matched evenly, I still had the advantage. I was 'armed' with Jen, a backpack containing breakfast and a camera. Nothing like a bit of foolish optimism. After all, Jen and I each have a pair of arms, not to forget another set of forearms each, giving a tally of 'twelve', if you sum our upper limbs, just enumerated. 

  The guy was not friendly (see end for blurred shot); we supposed he felt our presence might disturb whatever game he was pursuing or even the particular game he intended playing. Here we were in what appeared to be the middle of ‘nowhere’—we could not even see the dam, the target of our game, so to speak. Jen gave me the eye which I took to indicate perhaps we should find another place to park. I looked at our little car, at the surroundings and questioned some of our adventures: We usually don’t know where we are specifically, invariably, there are seldom other hikers about, we leave our car in what appears to be a deserted area and then walk into the unknown. When I considered it, it did seem a little reckless. Having thought it through and therefore completed the exercise, we set off for the interior along a dirt road which became a path. For the first twenty minutes, we kept an eye on the car and the other on the hunter. The further we progressed, we realized, the less attractive targets we would be—not that I’m intimating we are attractive, well Jen is but you know what I mean. 

  It took another ten minutes to accept we do this for a living, no, we do this to live, so then was not the time to worry about our car. In addition, Portugal may be close to Africa, but it’s a first world country. Great. Let’s put that nonsense behind us and face the extremely steep path that lies ahead…a far more daunting task. 

We'd call it pretty steep although perhaps not so 'pretty' as we return from the valley.
Watch how to earn some 'goodwill'. Now this I'd term pretty. The dam wall is to the left in the distance.
Back to the dam wall side where we sat for breakfast with some damn flies. We are sitting on the sloping dam wall.
Jen is crossing the dam via the bridge with the attraction of the trees in the background, including dormant 'grey guys'.
Looks as if there are two levels of water.

Shapely.
A perspective of the dam wall as well as some of the slopes surrounding the water.
The sun hits the bank briefly.
The photograph understates the acute slope, although it does show something cute.
We took a walk on the road to position ourselves for some dam perspective.
Enroute to the trail could not miss this fortress also tucked away behind a wall.
Let's go home ahead of the rain.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

Jen's hands were 'shaking' but she still took the shot (see earlier introduction).

64.17 Portugal: Geres: PR7 (2) captures the essence of autumn and our deep respect.

Sun lights up the mountain as we find ourselves on a luxurious path alongside a meadow on the way up.
Nestled in the valley, a village.
  While I would not call it humorous or even ironic, it did tickle us when we looked back and realized we’d parked our car in the same place for two hikes, walked in opposite directions away from the park, but arrived at the same endpoint on the mountain peak, at the swing. Until we reached the peak, we did not tread on common ground. Effectively, we undertook two completely different hikes while commencing at the same position and reaching the identical concluding point. We admit that’s hardly an amazing discovery or undertaking, but what it did provide is two hiking opportunities from one. 

  Should that not make sense then we suppose, you had to be there. While both hikes were enjoyable, they were also quite different because of the trail. In addition, the second trail was entirely in the open while the first was not. Finally, much more color covered the latter slopes, probably because of the openness, which also provided a wider variety of views. The latter experience, the subject of this blog, was, in our opinion, superior. 

Focusing on the mountain across the lake.
The lake comes into focus, Sao Bento Church to the right of the smoke. (What occurs when smoking is banned indoors.)
Autumn coloring stimulates as well as calms, a nice balance, a good mix.
Jen arriving at the peak.
A peek from the peak edge overlooking Canicada.
The best of times, the ideal season.
Guess who, at the top?
Looking across at a sister trail and mountain.

A different position, another angle, always attractive.
We did notice a couple of lazy hikers driving up to the top.
Look hard enough and one will find water, otherwise there's usually rain.
A short but well appreciated grass path through the 'gardens'.
Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey

64:19 Portugal: The Algarve, a brief introduction.

  We departed from Geres, which is up north, some twelve kilometers from the Spanish border. I suppose it had to occur sometime as we had already stayed 3 weeks extra. One of us was most reluctant to leave but when we got the feeling that we had overstayed our welcome, not wishing to upset the locals further as they were already downcast (it had not rained in 2 days), we headed south, covering the country longitude-wise. 

  Following the US elections, we noticed many of the country's 'fearless leaders', 'media geniuses' and other 'self-righteous persons' breaking down in tears. 'If' these people were able to ignore Rudyard Kipling's wisdom to strive for fortitude and honor, I mentioned to Jen, then surely I could shed a tear or two on our departure from Geres. After all, I've become a sensitive male. (Thank G-d my beloved father is not around to witness my 'display'...I miss him each day.) 

  We'll intersperse a few of the photographs from the Algarve with those from...you know where? 

 A bird in the hand is worth more than a multitude in the Atlantic.

Separated by a great wall.

The Portuguese are most friendly. 

One of the towns close to the coast.
Birds in paradise.
Next step is exile to a remote island.

Cheers, 

Jenni and Jeffrey