Via Algarviana revisited: São Brás de Alportel to Cortelha

This weekend saw us tackling our first two-day hike for some time in preparation for a proposed two-week backpacking trip to Northern Portugal and Galicia later this year.

Both Harri and I have new rucksacks. Mine is an Osprey Tempest 34-litre (perfect for smaller women), while Harri decided to stick with Deuter and went for the larger 40-litre size. Our early backpacking experiences have definitely convinced us that the lighter the loads we carry, the more enjoyable is our day-to-day hiking experience. (My first backpacking experience had vibes of Reese Witherspoon in the movie Wild when her huge overstuffed rucksack renders her horizontal!)

We knew hiking in the hills with heavier backpacks was going to be tough. Our proposed route included sections of the Via Algarviana, as well as one of the tougher link routes. Due to continuous rain in March, we haven’t done much long-distance hiking recently and the forecast was predicting temperatures in the early twenties.

I pragmatically left a few holiday essentials behind – my Kindle Fire and camera battery recharger – and, of course, I was carrying fewer clothes than will be the case when we’re actually on holiday. With 1,750 ml of water and food for both days, my backpack was heavy but manageable.

The two-day route

Starting in São Brás de Alportel, we headed north-west to Querença on a route Harri devised before walking a section of the Via Algarviana link route from Loulé to Salir, which included the beautiful (and popular) Fonte Benémola.

We didn’t stick with the link route all the way to Salir, instead joining the Via Algarviana main route to head slightly east towards Cortelha.

After spending Saturday night at Casa De Campo Cantinho Da Serra on the iconic N2 which runs from Faro in the south to Chaves in the north, our second day saw us following the Via Algarviana proper again until Parises. From there, we joined another Via Algarviana link route: Parises to São Brás de Alportel.

We set off under no illusions that this weekend’s hiking was going to be tough!

Day 1

It was just after 9am and 21 degrees when we left the car in a quiet spot in São Brás de Alportel, stripped off our long sleeves and headed … straight up a hill. Almost immediately we felt the difference between carrying our usual daypacks and these larger, heavier backpacks. I struggle on hills above a certain gradient at the best of times and that first uphill kilometre was hard going.

Thankfully, the stunning and very lush landscape helped to distract us. I may be mistaken, but the olive trees seem to be flourishing after being soaked this winter. Not bad for a species usually linked to dry, hot climates. I was also struck by the number of ruins we passed, some of them quite large.

An overgrown footpath with dangling brambles brought back memories of hiking in Wales last spring – and highlighted the very different vegetation you encounter as you head inland from the Algarve coast. Here, the palm trees were outnumbered by majestic old cork oaks. There’s no doubt that this area is a hiker’s paradise with its natural beauty and distant vistas.

When we reached the valley which links São Brás and Querença the sense that we’d stumbled into an unknown and undiscovered Algarve was complete. Incredibly, the wide track isn’t part of any PR route, though why not is a mystery as this valley is so beautiful. Again, there were comparisons with Wales, which were compounded when we spotted sheep grazing among the trees.

We joined the PR11 and stopped for elevenses in a pretty picnic area with a river gushing below us. We’d covered 8.2 relatively easy kilometres, but were already realising this was going to be a very wet hike. Fortunately, we’d brought along flipflops for those river crossings. We’d no sooner got going again when we bumped into Mary, a fellow Hiking Algarve leader, who was walking her dogs, which was nice.

It’s hard to believe it’s nearly four years since we walked the Via Algarviana link route from Salir to Loulé (or vice versa). Oddly, I don’t seem to have blogged about it, although I did write about the previous day’s walking on the Caminho de Santiago that had taken us to Salir in the first place.

Our surroundings are starting to look familiar. Harri reminded me that we are now walking up a hill that formed part of Hiking Algarve’s pre-Christmas lunch walk back in December. I cannot remember it feeling so tough back then, although it was much cooler and we were carrying barely anything.

Soon, we were strolling towards Fonte Benémola, where we were forced to step off the track several times in quick succession to avoid an annoying number of vehicles coming along the one-way lane. There is a popular 4.2 kilometre PR route (out and back) from the main car park to the picnic area but evidently even that’s too far for some people to walk.

Unfortunately, it was too early for us to take advantage of the vacant picnic tables. We crossed the stepping-stone bridge, thinking it would be interesting to follow the path on the far side of the stream. Just as well the mud made us change our minds, because we soon learned there is no bridge to cross back on when you need to.

A rather gruelling uphill stretch was looming and it was just as difficult as I recalled, both in terms of terrain and gradient. Finally, we were rewarded with incredible far-reaching views towards Salir, Rocha da Pena, Cerro dos Negros and even the Buddhist temple (where the Caminhada Trail dos Budas would be taking place the following day).

At 16.7 km, we found a sofa-sized boulder in a perfectly tranquil spot and stopped for lunch surrounded by rock rose and other vegetation. Harri chose this peaceful moment to point out that the terrain we’d covered so far was the easy half of the hike and the worst was yet to come. Thank you darling! Fortunately, there was a brief reprieve from climbing as we tootled along the ridge and admired the pretty spectacular views.

All too soon we were climbing again, first on a footpath and then a dirt track. The wind picked up, which definitely helped, and we decided not to worry about speed, because uphill walking is so much harder with heavier backpacks. We’re not unfit exactly but we definitely have a lot of training to do before our two-week backpacking trip.

Water, water everywhere

We knew our luck couldn’t hold out forever and it was finally time to cross our first stream of the day. Out came the flipflops. Unwilling to sit down, dry our feet and put our boots back on for the sake of a few hundred metres, we hobbled up a stony track in our totally unsuitable footwearand then descended to our second watery crossing in quick succession. When we hiked the Via Algarviana in May 2015, the Algarve was experiencing a blistering heatwave and we welcomed any sign of water. Not so much so at the end of a very wet March when the flowing water was icy cold.

Soon afterwards, we joined the Via Algarviana proper – and were surprised just how weathered the wooden signposting has become. As we walked the stretch of road where I lost my very nice hiking hat a decade ago, memories of hiking the trail came flooding back to us. How I forgot to pack mascara and had to do without it until we reached Salir and the first signs of civilisation, i.e. modern villa, how we were fearful of what we presumed was a stray dog until we realised it was a sheepdog in pursuit of an errant member of its flock.

There was a third river crossing without boots, but four and five were managed by balancing on stones.

That hill

I remember once running a half marathon where participants were warned in advance about ‘the hill’. If anyone was in any doubt about which hill the organisers were referring to then it was thoughtfully signposted ‘The Hill’.

I strongly believe this killer of a hill on the Via Algarviana demands a similar sign. It’s beyond gruelling – and on a day filled with some pretty steep climbs that’s saying something.

As there was no shade, Harri advised me to take it slowly. I remembered an old running technique: focus on something in the near distance and run to it, then choose something else and continue ad infinitum. I was doing this, while pausing for the odd (okay regular) breather when I realised Harri was lagging behind. This is most unusual, as in it never happens. Harri is fit and runs up hills, but he just wasn’t doing well at all on this hill. Concerned he might be suffering from heat exhaustion, I settled him under a lone bush and found him something sugary to eat. He still didn’t feel great but eventually he felt well enough to continue. Then, somewhere near the top of the hill he succumbed to a bout of vomiting. Thankfully, he felt a lot better after this but he had me seriously concerned for a while. We are definitely going to buy new hiking hats – buffs simply don’t offer sufficient protection.

Reaching our destination

Thankfully, we only had a few more kilometres to go so, when we reached the top of the hill, we agreed to skip the section of ridge walking – which would have meant more climbing – and stick with the road. There is so little traffic on some of these Portuguese roads it’s not really an issue.

We arrived at our destination – Cortelha – at around 5.10pm and immediately ordered beer, coca cola and two Calippos. Strangely, after feeling too hot most of the day, I was soon feeling a bit shivery in the shady bar.

Distance/ascent

We all know that our apps record different distances/ascent even when two people are walking side-by-side so these are my own statistics (Harri, as usual, logged up slightly more for both the distance and the climbing).

30 kilometres

613 metres of climbing

The route for day 1

Here is a link to the route I tracked:

https://out.ac/IYkWrM

 

So how did we fare on day 2?