I'm not great at playing tourist, but our hostess at the Lisbon Story Guesthouse described a week's worth of must-sees in the nearby city of Sintra. With one day left before heading home, I chose two venues, and we hopped on a morning train stuffed with tourists. Great people-watching!
Upon arrival in Sintra we were encouraged to get on a bus which would shuttle us around to various popular locations. Why? So we wouldn't waste time walking! Ha! The crowd jostled their way to the line at the bus stop. (Moo!) Russ and I peeled off and happily hiked through near empty streets and beautiful wooded trails past the ancient Castle of the Moors to the top of the hill, where the Palacio da Pena sat, in all its opulent glory.

There, we shuffled through room after room of amazingly intricate and ornate finery along with many, many other folks. Was it worth the entrance fee? Probably, but after an hour or so I'd had enough. We bypassed the cafe and gift shop and wound our way downhill through lovely gardens of fountains and pools with black swans.
Tired and satisfied, we skipped site #2, the Quinta da Regaleira, and took a mellow, late afternoon train back to Lisbon. Perhaps if we return to Portugal, we will take on another tourist destination. Most likely, we will wander, roam and explore.The most intriguing experiences reveal themselves to me when I'm not absolutely sure where I'm going, or how to get there.

Having completed just 17 of the 30 European Portuguese lessons I purchased from Pimsleur, I felt tentative about my first foray into a country where English is not commonly spoken.
We've gotten through, so far, with lots of gesturing and only several awkward moments. A couple of times, I was complemented on my ability to speak the language, and my pronunciation. Other times, I received blank stares or confused looks. Before I return to Portugal, I intend to be fluent. The prospect of chatting with the elders here is incentive, in and of itself.

We met trekkers from all over Europe while we were in towns or on the coastal route, but none from the US or from Portugal. (In fact, we haven't yet met anyone at all from America.) They all spoke English to some degree, and we swapped trail tales. Actually, I enjoyed that we saw a total of three fellow hikers on the Merchant's Trail itself. Almost entirely, it was Russ and I and the trail. Our new friend Susanna declared this route "boring"compared to the Fishermen's Trail, with it's rocky cliffs and ocean vistas. But I prefer terra firma to sand, and the solitude.
Oh, Susanna! From Amsterdam, she set out to tackle the entire network of trails, despite the debilitating effects of MS. Alone. I'm duly impressed. Even more so by how she listened to her body and spirit and knew when to quit. We met her on the trail just north of Odeciexe, and we've been lucky to happen upon her in every village since. Except Porto Covo. There, I was just wondering why we hadn't spotted her yet when two Dutch hikers hailed us from their street-side table at a cafe. "Susanna says Hello!", was their message. I hope we get to see her one more time, in Lisboa!

"Presto Manifesto!", as Russ' son used to say.

Yesterday's hike from Cercal to Porto Covo was a snap, as it was mostly downhill to the coast. We ate our picnic lunch on the wall of a 14th century fort above the ocean, and ended our trek at a hotel that has everything we desire. Porto Covo is a modest, peaceful resort town, and it feels so good here, we cancelled our plans to hike back to Cercal.
And so, suddenly, we are done trekking. I feel a bit sad about that, but my body is loving the day off. Our plan is to be here one more day, then taxi/bus back up to Lisbon for a couple of days before heading home. To be sure, we'll still explore on foot, but without packs and poles.
While there's no telling how many miles we traipsed around the towns and cities looking for a dinner served before 7pm (good luck with that!), Russ figures we hiked 211 trail miles, since we began 14 days ago.

S. Luis, on our way through and out of town. Even though there are modern street lights and pavement, a goat bids us Bom Dia.

The trail was the most mountainous we've trekked in Portugal, and offered expansive views stretching to the coast and beyond. (You'll have to use your imagination, here. My photos just don't do these justice.)
While some forests we walked through were natural and wild, there have been stretches of unsightly eucalyptus plantations, apparently harvested for paper production.

I love naps. Just about any day will do--- today is no exception. We are staying another night here in S. Luis, allowing this day to unfold slowly.
Our packs sit in the corner.
I find the simplicity of this day appealing. Hand washing clothes and hanging them out to dry. Shopping for a few items to make meals looks like walking to the local indoor municipal mercado, where several locals are selling fresh fish and vegetables. Then to the one jumbled tiny store (maybe 500 sf?) where you can find, somehow, everything else you need.
A lazy stroll through the village reveals another unbelievable backyard garden. This elder could probably feed half the population here with the abundance from his plot. What else? Two men loading a flatbed truck with cork tree bark. A forgotten, weedy, little cemetery with a handful of markers from the 1800's. A tiny park in the center of town, shaded by citrus trees. On a bench, there, a nicely dressed elderly man in a jaunty cap steals my heart. He is napping, peacefully.

Oh, I enjoyed the last two days immensely! Yesterday, after a free breakfast, we left S. Teotonio and its sweet old-school hotel with the tile hallways. Just out of town we passed a farm where a little boy sailed past us on his tiny bike, legs pumping like mad. "Ciao!" he shouted cheerily, waving.
Since then we've hiked about 45 k, stopping last night in Odemira. There, we walked into town and met up again, by chance, with Susanna from Amsterdam, for a beer. (We'd met her on the trail several days ago.)

Last night in Odemira

These were long hikes, for us, to do with packs. My left pinkie toe has been swollen and blistered, so I taped it well and hoped for the best. And, it was the best.
Walking allows me to drop into what is happening in the moment. What is that sweet aroma? Sticky Monkey Flower? Feeling the rising sun melt the chill from my skin. Listening to the welcoming chorus when we enter another town: cows, goats, chickens, dogs and doves. Plucking berries and figs along the way and popping them into our mouths. Watching a praying mantis dine on a grasshopper. It's very much like holding space for someone on the table. It's one moment at a time, with curiosity and openness. Life, unfolding. Extra-ordinary.

Steven Wright

An enviable S. Teotonio back yard.

Walking is, for me, an intimate way to connect with both the present moment and the immediate environment. My senses can fully engage with the here and now. What sounds like a cacophony of pots and pans reveals itself as a field of goats with bells. My feet connect with many textures, even through hiking shoes: tiles, bricks, hardscrabble, eucalyptus leaves, shards of the past. Details abound. This is not simply acres of forest. These are cork oaks, shorn of bark and numbered. Strawberry trees dropping the same fruit we enjoyed the other night in a liqueur along with thin, crisp and powerfully dark chocolate cookies. I observe ants that, within minutes, find the grape seeds we spit out and tenaciously lug them back to their nest. And the smells! I do not know the names of many of the native shrubs and herbs we hike through. But I am always breathing in their scents, pinching bits of plants between my fingers and holding them up to my nose. Sun and ocean breeze and high fog chill tease my skin.

And people! When I walk, I have the opportunity to say hello, to smile, to listen. To pause and share.
And there is this: How does my body feel after a day of hiking? (Today we travelled 24 + k.) How does my body feel after a day of driving?
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Now we are in Carrapateira, tired and happy. We'll stay here two nights and then decide what's next.
Boa Noite!