At Bensafrim I had a breakfast coffee in very much a man's bar with calender's showing bare breasted girls of improbable dimensions, no longer seen in the UK. Half the customers and the landlord were drinking brandy or some clear spirit all before 8 am.
From Bensafrim the path went through farmland with ripe oranges before heading up a valley where the fields gradually turned to scrub. Shotguns sounded nearby but I could not identify the hunters. In France I have seen them with camouflage clothes to blend in with the surroundings and then a bright orange waistcoat so that they are not accidentally shot. I should wear a bright orange hat so they do not accidentally shoot me but I prefer to be discrete and blend in with my surroundings. However it is difficult to pass farmhouses discretely, as you approach, first one and then several dogs start barking. They rush at you no doubt bent on biting my now well-muscled calf, until stopped by a fence or the length of their chain. I exaggerate, while some dogs clearly want to kill me others are waggling their tails while barking madly, probably bored and wanting to join me on my walk.
After crossing a watershed the path dropped down to a reservoir before climbing up another valley. The hills were now becoming mountainous with deeply incised valleys and there was a steep climb out of the valley to the road leading to Marmelete. Marmelete is a pleasant town with a great view to the south. It also has a museum to medronho, a spirit or aguadente made from the strawberry tree. Admission included free samples which no doubt improved my view of the village.
My lodgings at Horta do ze Miguel were a few kilometres further on up more steep slopes, but the reward was pleasant accommodation among trees with ripe lemons and a view to match.
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