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).