11 February to Vaqueiros

Sounds of birdsong woke me and after decamping I climbed up to the white-washed village of Cachopo. Finding a tiny shop in one of the narrow steets I stocked on water, cheese and chocolate, and apples to be healthy. Then had my morning, minature coffee with a cake. The barman was wearing a flat cap like most of the men in town, although one had a trilby. There is something a bit old fashioned about it all, most of the people were older and somewhat weather beaten.
At least Cachopo was an active community, many of the houses in the next two villages looked abandoned with the odd rather hopeful written sign saying Vende Se, for sale. However there always seems to be one or two barking dogs to make you feel unwelcome. The hills and pine plantations I walked through today were devoid of people although there was the odd patch of well tended olive trees.
I stopped at a cafe at Vaqueiros at about two after some 19.1 kilometres and the landlady mimed sleeping, I took this as an offer of a room for the night and as I had completed two long days I gratefully took up the offer. The suite provided (at Casa D'Aldeia) is very smart (unlike the cafe) with natural soap and fluffy towels.

Vaqueiros