Fisherman's Trail - Day 5 - A Beautiful Last Day

Waking up in the sand dunes in the early morning, I am freezing. It's gotten cold overnight, and condensation water is dripping from the walls of my tent, wind tearing at the fabric. But it's time to head out and leave. I love how easy it is to pack up the simple Decathlon tent, but with the wind in the morning, it got a little harder. But soon, I'm done, and I make my way through the dunes along the coast.

Today's path is taking me from my camp spot near Almograve towards Odeceixe, passing through Cavaleiro, Zambujeira do Mar, and Azenha do Mar. It's around 36km of winding sand paths along the coast, within the national park along the Fisherman's trail, the Rota Vicentina.

The sun is quickly gaining strength, and my body is starting to warm up from the hiking, too. Seeing this beautiful landscape in the morning golden hour light is a special treat. Sheer cliffs, giant boulders, washed upon by the waves. The sound of the waves fills the air; seagulls are flying overhead. I can smell the salt and sand.

Today, I have to make quite a bit of progress because I want to reach the town of Odeceixe in the evening to catch the bus to Lagos. However, I still have to stop every once in a while to admire the details of the landscape. The little flowers, or the huge cliffs, when descending to a small beach. These little moments in between of awe and mesmerizing beauty are what make this all worth it.

I love observing the layers of rocks and how they look folded like paper, bunched up by the sheer power of continental plates moving. Unimaginable pressures, bending and folding rocks, as if it's no big deal. Turning the layers of sediments sideways against the original direction of how they were laid down eons ago. It makes me consider how small and inconsequential I am in the grander scheme of things. And yet. I can walk along the entirety of this coast, moving like a tiny ant across these vast landscapes. This makes me wander in awe. My mouth often opens, gaping wide at the sheer scale of nature in this place.

Along the path, there is also a lighthouse in the city of Cavaleiro. Seeing it from afar on the cliffs, it looks like a toy house, but once closer, the building is quite big, the lighthouse towering over the landscape.

Another constant along the hike is the wind. My mind echoes the word "windswept planes" around and around. It's nice, at least the wind makes the heat a little more bearable. And seeing the interesting shapes the wind and, sand and water can create, abrasing away rock, leaving scars in the landscape. It's beautiful, and the different colors of sediment never cease to amaze me. Oranges, white, yellow, and all sorts of grey and black too.

I stop for breakfast in a small coffee shop going by the name of Cafe Adélia. Charging up my phone, refilling the water, and eating some Pasteis de Nata—my favorite sweet—and also a big tomato-cheese sandwich. We'll nourished, I continue my hike along the coastline with a big smile on my face.

By now, the sun is blazing from above, but every once in a while, the dunes give way to small patches of forest or more dense vegetation. The shade is very welcome, and I savor every little bit of it that I come across. Breathing in the colder air, resting there for micro-moments—in between—before moving on, back into the relentless sun.

To me, the waves and beaches are the most beautiful parts of the whole journey, though. Every once in a while, there is a staircase leading down to a patch of golden sand, with other people there playing in the waves. Fisherman fishing or simply enjoying the view.

I often stop to take pictures of the rocks, waves crashing upon the shore, long-time exposures, the waves washing out and over, blurring into a beautiful wash of motion. Somehow, I like pictures like this; there's something serene about it. Tranquility in motion. Capturing the passage of time. With my Google Pixel phone, this stuff becomes oddly easy. I used to carry a tripod for these sorts of things.

Near Carvahal Beach, the path comes very close to some sort of animal park. There are all sorts of animals there: bison, alpacas, and even some emus. It's fun to watch them for a while before moving on.

At some point along the track, I run into this sign. But I see it first from the other end. This meant that: Oh well, good to know that I just walked a part of the way that is officially closed and designated a landslide risk. I'm just happy that nothing happened and then continue moving along the beautiful coastline.

The sun is starting to turn golden again towards the end of my hike, and I finally reach the last beach of this trip, the Praia de Odeceixe. People are surfing on the beautifully breaking waves; some play football in the sand. Unfortunately, there's a river between me and the beach, and the time is running out, so I can't go for one last swim, even though I want to do so, sooo badly.

But I continue my walk towards Odeceixe, which is a few kilometers away from the coast. There, I buy a bunch of sweets and some water from a small mom-and-pop store and then sit at the bus stop, waiting, contemplating. My feet hurt from all the walking, and I'm tired, yet somehow happy and content. The sun is turning orange, illuminating the small houses in the distance. It's serene, peaceful, and calm, and eventually, my bus arrives to go to Lagos, and this short adventure comes to a close. Maybe someday, I'll hike the rest of this beautiful little Fisherman's trail, the Rota Vicentina.