Caminho do Norte: Day 11 – Ameixieira to Ansião

After sorting out a breakfast of sorts in our lovely room at Pedra Oliveira, we bade farewell to our French hosts and set off at 8.45am. The morning air that greeted us was decidedly chilly with strong gusts of wind, however the sky was clear and the forecast promised another hot and sunny day.

We quickly rejoined the caminho route, which didn’t feel dissimilar to the Algarve’s trails, and climbed a steep, stony track towards electricity pylons before entering an enchanting valley with steep, wooded slopes. The valley appeared to mark a new climatic zone – one of dry riverbeds and olive trees. What a delightful change to be following a peaceful track amidst pretty surroundings instead of busy roads.

We emerged from the valley track into a little hamlet with several houses, a couple of near-identical cats and a waymark informing us that we were now on the GR26. The adjacent Rota Carmelita waymark informed us that Fátima was 90 km away, which, after walking around 300 km, sounded like no distance at all. The Caminho do Norte is 364 km, however obviously we’re adding little detours here and there, e.g. Conímbriga yesterday, so the overall distance we cover may differ.

The isolated stone houses and the wooded ridge high above made our surroundings feel almost Welsh, although in our home country there would be sheep, flowing water … and mud. A meandering footpath running alongside the dry riverbed completed our joy. After a week of following the worst long-distance route in memory, we could hardly believe the landscape had completely transformed (for the better) now we were walking south of Coimbra.

We haven’t been sticking with the official stages of the Caminho do Norte, but if we had then we’d have been tackling Stage 13 this morning. And this stage, which finishes in Rabaçal, is inexplicably short at just 13 km so it made sense to push ahead and finish Stage 14 too. In 2011, Rabaçal’s population was just 291, suggesting it’s not the most bustling of places. The only thing it’s really famous for is its cheese and a Roman villa. In the end, we didn’t bother to venture into Rabaçal to look at the façade of yet another church.

We reached Fonte Coberta, where I was able to demonstrate my complete ignorance of British history to my well-read travel companion – specifically the Napoleonic Wars. It’s hard to imagine, but it was along these peaceful lanes that the French retreated in 1811, driven out by allied troops, including the British.

Our next village was Zambujal, where we tried (and failed) to find the carving of ‘the cheesemaking shepherdesses’, a photograph of which was displayed on an interpretation board. Not only were the shepherdesses missing, but there was no sign of a café or bar despite Zambujal being a reasonable size. Inside the church, there is an ex-voto – a devotional offering, e.g. a small plaque, cross or inscription to express thanks for prayers answered – dating from 1824, from the mule driver who transported fleeing liberal students after they killed university professors in Coimbra. You can dispel the idea of a rural idyll – the Rabaçal valley has a serious past!

One frustration for me was we were once again skirting around Penela, a town with a castle which I’ve always fancied visiting. It’s almost within touching distance today, with the name appearing on signposts. Unfortunately, as in 2018, we veered so close, only for our onward route to steer us in a different direction. One day perhaps, Penela …

After all the dreariness of our first week on the caminho, the Rabaçal Valley has provided us with magnificent scenery: hills dotted with wind turbines, tiny villages and the recquisite churches. This being a caminho, the route frequently took otherwise completely pointless detours to deposit we pilgrims outside these churches. We’re often happy to oblige simply because village churches generally offer shade and somewhere to sit. Unfortunately, the one we were being directed to now was just too far off our route (and uphill) to bother visiting. Instead, we rejoined the GR26. The stony, uneven track made it feel more like proper hiking, but the lack of shade meant the going was tough.

I was fascinated with three separate summits to our left. We could just about make out the high walls of Castelo de Germanelo on the first. On the second hill, Juromelo, there was a mast. Legend claims that these hilltops – Mount Melo to the north and Mount Gerumelo to the south – were once home to two giant brothers who were blacksmiths but shared one hammer. One day, the giant on Gerumelo was in a bad mood and threw the hammer with such force that its handle broke and was lost. The iron head – minus its olive-wood handle – allegedly fell at the foot of Mount Melo, resulting in the spontaneous appearance of ferruginous water. An olive grove sprang up around the handle. The third hill on the horizon had several masts on its summit but no legend associated to it.

While the hiking was a huge improvement on the previous week – exactly what we’d been craving since we set off on the Caminho do Norte – the rock slab path we’d joined was very exposed. Have I mentioned it was hot, very hot? I don’t know whether the sun was affecting my ability to think straight, but at some point I realised my digital recorder was missing from my pocket. Thank goodness I remembered where we’d last stopped and was able to quickly retrace my steps and find it. Had I not, none of these rambling recollections would have reached my blog!

By now, we’d worked up a real thirst. There was just one snag: Alvorge, where a bar was promised, was located aloft yet another summit. The first few hundred metres of ascent were tough going until we veered right onto a footpath which zigzagged up the remainder of the slope. We paused for a breather, seizing the opportunity to admire the surrounding landscape. “If you were heading north from Lisbon, you’d have high expectations from the rest of the caminho,” Harri said. Unfortunately, as pilgrims travelling from north to south, we’re all too aware that those expectations would be cruelly dashed within a day or two.

For a village with a population of little more than 1,000 residents, Alvorge has some interesting buildings, not least its impressive church, the original of which was built during the reign of Dom Dinis before 1229 (the current church was built in the seventeenth century). A little further into Alvorge is a tiny chapel with the date 1565 carved above the doorway. The Casa Alpendrada (House with a Porch) attracted our attention, not least because, despite the date 1709 being inscribed on its wall, it had a Roman look about it. The house originally belonged to the Santa Casa da Misericórdia (Holy House of Mercy) of Alvorge and is believed to have functioned as an alms-house or inn for the adjacent hospital.

The village shop was closed for lunch, but fortunately there was a café around the corner where we sat outside with our drinks. Harri had considered another detour on the GR26 but another hiker in the Outdoor Active community had noted the route was blocked with vegetation in June this year. Thus, after a brief discussion, we decided not to risk it to perhaps save walking 300–400 metres.

The heat – by now it was around 31 degrees – and continual lack of shade was beginning to get to us so we couldn’t help staring in disbelief at a female pilgrim who passed us. She was swathed in every imaginable item of clothing, including a face covering.

Playing devil’s advocate, Harri complained that today’s walking hadn’t included the elements we’d come to expect from the Caminho do Norte: main roads with traffic thundering past, industrial estates (we like to visit at least one a day), and difficult-to-navigate road junctions. Truly, it’s been a tough old day, but somehow we’ve risen to the challenge of strolling along quiet country lanes and peaceful tracks flanked by wooded slopes.

Over the next few kilometres, we stopped to chat to several Canadians and a French man. All had walked from Lisbon and ALL had loathed the days spent walking out of Portugal’s capital city. Listening to their recollections, we were very relieved our own caminho was ending in Fátima. For his part, Harri has been advising all the north-heading pilgrims we encounter to steer clear of the Central Route out of Porto and to choose the Coastal Route instead.

Today’s final five kilometres provided more pleasant hiking among eucalyptus and pine trees. We stopped for a mid-afternoon snack of crisps and water in Netos, next to a large wire replica of a sewing machine erected in honour of the area’s costumiers.

We’ve noticed how different the approach to caminho walking has been today. Rather than force we pilgrims to stick rigidly to busy roads, it now seemed the objective was to keep us away from even the quietest of roads and instead divert us onto on footpaths wherever possible. Having been ready to bail a few short days ago, we were now genuinely enjoying the hiking.

We hadn’t expected the Rio Nabão to be in full flow in early October, but we were still a little shocked to find it completely empty and the line of little wooden bridges rendered defunct. Ansião itself seemed a rather sleepy place at 5pm on a Monday so after the obligatory drinks in a local café we headed straight to our accommodation.

Summary

With hindsight – and the benefit of having walked the Caminho do Norte from Valença – today’s route between Ameixieira to Ansião was undoubtedly one of the most enjoyable in terms of scenery, if not the best. We can only hope (pray?) that the standard of hiking remains this high for the remainder of our pilgrimage.

Accommodation

We paid just 46 euros for a double room at the very central Ansiturismo Alojamento in Ansião – so central, in fact, that it’s located directly on the Carmelita Rota. Breakfast wasn’t included with our booking, but there was the option of paying 7,50 euros each for breakfast.

Our room was nice and light with tall windows on two walls. There were no kitchen facilities, however we had a kettle and a fridge in our room and there was a small table on which to prepare food.

Our route

Our eleventh day of hiking was mapped at 30.7 km with 403 metres of ascent.

My track (on Outdoor Active) was quite a bit less at 28.8 km with 360 metres of climbing. Harri probably recorded more (he usually does). We did another 2.4 kilometres to the supermarket and back after we’d dropped off our rucksacks.

Download the GPX file of our revised route hike here.