A Meander South

Well as predicted here I am at Faro on the aire not two hundred yards from the runway - with only a dozen or so flights a day it is not exactly hectic and I will walk round to Arrivals this evening assuming all plans go to....well plan.

The weather improved after Montsarraz in time to get a few piccies of the fortified village including the various nativity models that were being carted away gradually - it was an amusing site to see the three kings on their camels sticking out of a livestock trailer.

 

 

 

On the spur of the moment I was tempted by lunch in a bar with a sunny terrace overlooking the huge Alqueva reservoir and my fried whole squid was beyond delicious.

 

 

 

I only moved on a few miles to park up by the water's edge near Mourao which had a lovely lakeside beach, plenty of waterfowl and no people. I cycled back in to the village to visit the church adjacent to the castle and then sat on a small island to watch a good sunset. A good ride the following day exploring tracks and trails brought me to Luz which is the new village relocated from a couple of miles away when the valley was flooded. It has been built as an almost carbon copy of the old but with improved construction and utilities but being only 20 years old still feels quite characterless. The lovely lady in the bakery sold me some decent bread and the tiny supermarket provided for a few other items. I also discovered that there was an aire in the village with water and waste facilities and power available - payable by machine -as per the other aire the machine was broken but the barrier was up and others were in residence so I moved there the following day.

 

 

This gave me the opportunity for a 55 mile ride down to the impressive dam and hydro scheme and back across the bridge to Mourao on largely deserted roads. I also visited the museum dedicated to the abandoned village which had plenty of history and artefacts relating to the old ways of life.

 

 

Moving south and east I passed through the Aracena National Park, an area of woods, valleys and mountains before pulling in to Aracena itself where parking was allowed in a large empty patch of ground five minutes from the village centre. On a sunny weekend afternoon cafe culture was in full swing and I booked a tour in the Grutas de las Maravillas, a show cave largely located underneath the hilltop castle. The ticket had me booked on the 5 o'clock visit and included the castle itself which I walked up to passing a convent and another fine church. From the castle walls I could get an idea of the layout of the area which had much walking potential before I joined the underground trip.

This was an hour long walk through 2km of superbly decorated cave passages and well worth doing - no photography was permitted but there are some good videos on YouTube. I also visited the museuo de jamon which included all aspects of producing this local delicacy before turning in for the night with a few vans scattered around. Sunday saw me starting a walk out to Linares from a book written twenty odd years ago but apart from a bit of urban sprawl little had changed and I made good enough progress to include a second walk from the same book so finished the day after 15 really enjoyable miles although my knees were yet again causing some discomfort.

Monday was spent doing the walk of The Happy Pigs which lived up to its name as it passed through fields and the dehesa that provide these outdoor reared pigs with acorns to forage. It took me back to my days on the farm when my Oxford Sandy and Blacks would roam at will in similar terrain.A small bar tempted me to go in and I was soon enjoying jamon, egg and chips washed down with a beer and followed by a pud and coffee for a very reasonable £15 before the final walk back in to Aracena.

 

I left the following day but again only as far as Minas de Riotinto where a sloping aire by a busy road was adequate for a one night stay. Up at the mining museum I discovered that a multi buy ticket would give access to the Museum, English house 'Casa21' and a trip on the train down the Rio Tinto Valley the following day. En route I had already visited the other local attraction the Pena De La Hierro which was a smaller now abandoned open mining area with a deep water filled crater and remarkably colourful geology.

 

Thus I visited the mining museum housed in the old hospital built by the English owned RT mining company and enjoyed some excellent displays of geological samples, a surprisingly authentic re-creation of a Roman mine, associated artefacts from a Roman village uncovered by the mining operations and of course archive photos and documents of the mines development in recent years.

I then drove down to the station where the 13.00 (and only) departure of the old train was waiting in a valley surrounded by huge geometric shaped piles of the multi coloured waste from the current operations. The Rio Tinto lived up to its name and appears that colour due to the heavy concentrations of copper in the area - a natural colour rather than due to pollution and in fact the water is pretty clear, it just reflects the underlying strata. The 3 carriage train rocked, rattled and swayed behind an archaic diesel engine as a lady gave a presumably comprehensive commentary in Spanish. I was content to watch the scenery as we passed abandoned mines and quarries, loading bays, crushing plants and an array of old rusting railway relics. After an hour we stopped for time to walk down to the water's edge whilst the loco ran round and then enjoyed a return trip through the remarkable scenery.

There was then time to visit Casa 21, a house on an estate again built by the company to house their workers on postings from Britain and intended to recreate their previous lives being complete with tennis courts, an outdoor pool and a polo pitch - classic miners' pastimes.....the interior looked like some of those we saw last year at Beamish.

 

The final attraction of an excellent day was to follow a mines van through the security fencing to peer in to the huge hole in  the ground that is the still operational Corta Atalaya, the largest open pit mine in Europe at 1200m long, 900 wide and 350 deep. It has been flooded from the 16th ring for many years and is being constantly pumped out whilst existing faces are worked. For an idea of scale a steam locomotive sits at the lowest point and is almost invisible. It was an impressive sight and site and a good end to an interesting day leaving me a short drive south to Valverde de Campo where I planned to ride a local via verde. I had done this one before but from the south and was soon rolling along stopping at a bar on the way back for coffee and toast before loading up and heading for Pomarao on the Spanish Portuguese border.

This enchanting village strings out above the Guadiana river which rises 500 miles away near Madrid and often forms the border with its outlet a further 40 miles on in the Gulf of Cadiz.

A large gravel area provided plenty of space for a number of vans and I pulled in right by the river on a sunny evening. A couple of rides from the van included a crossing back over in to Spain to pick up a new (to me) Via Verde which started from some impressive old loading bays above the river and wound its way through the scenery to the old mine. From here it was a short ride passing an old 16th century windmill to El Granado for beer and a bag of crisps before the run home that finished with a long fast descent to the river.

At Pomarao a large bat had landed beneath the bike rack but didn't look to healthy so I persuaded him to hang off a tree so at least he was clear of predators. A cold night made me value the Eber yet again but Sunday morning sunshine soon had me outside in shorts for a restful day for a change. As on previous days a very elderly local had rowed erratically across to the other bank to tend his vegetable patch, returning at dusk in a what seemed given his antiquity a perilous journey. At lunchtime I went over to check out the Cafe do Cais and found it to be delightful - a covered terrace overlooking the slightly tidal river and the friendly Fatima who spoke a variety of languages and produced a delicious dish of Alentejo pork with clams and potatoes followed by a coconut desert washed down with a Bohemian Sagres. Deservedly she closes for a week from the 24th so unfortunately whilst we will return Mandy will miss this most pleasant experience.

So yesterday I packed up after four days by the river and headed towards Faro stopping at the first camp site in 7 weeks - the Ecopark at Sao Bras de Alportel as I had laundry to do and the van needed a service stop on the domestic front. things dried quickly in the sun although a huge Austrian truck camper with trailer mounted 4x4 was later positioned alongside which cast some shade on things. I cannot imagine hauling that huge combination around was anything less than constantly stressful and in many ways hugely limiting but still, each to their own....anyway 9 euros to park up (no EHU) and 5 for a large laundry load seemed OK and the owners were very friendly. Whilst they don't sell gas they have the local dealer to come in with various brands and sizes and within half an hour a nice guy turned up at my pitch with 2 CG 907s at £15 each : well under half the UK price.

Thus to return to the beginning - it was a cold night again but the days are gloriously sunny and I am now waiting for the arrival of a flight from Manchester - it's a very quiet airport less than two dozen arrivals and departures a day but very interesting to sit up on the bank watching aircraft as they do arrive or leave.

I'd not shopped for a fortnight so spent a fair bit at Lidl and we will head to Mertola tomorrow en route back to Pomarao before moving west to Seville, Cordoba, Granada, the Alpujarras and eventually Morocco at the end of February.

According to the EasyJet tracker the flight is currently on time and just passing over the Brecon Beacons, it's a funny old world.

More than enough pics sit here...