Adèle
The adventure of the 30plus walkers From the first steps, the tone is given: the rocky road sprinkle with multicoloured tiles and shrubs can be slippery and capricious, despite the stones dried by the sun during the last 3 days. The rugged mountains require from the walkers all their concentration and sense of balance. In Indian queue, we sink deeper into the heart of the mountains that now replace the horizon. The group gets stretched out, segmented, and from the mountain peak where I stand, eclipsing our proud bipedal size appears in front of my eyes a colony of ants, frail and bold. We are all together, lost in the middle of these cliffs that rivers crack, so small suddenly but so free and bound to this environment that we are just discovering. Our hike continues and the sun regains its rights; it is the moment for some of us to take a rest, backing onto flat stones rising from the hill. We are encircled by a raw, sharp relief, which resonates the echo of the rocks slipping under our autious little steps. We reach this paradise of grass some twenty minutes later, tired knobs and happy.
After a brief introduction and some first exchanges between the participants, our adventurer clan embarks upon the assault of the mountains that greet us in their steep gorge.
From now on begins a frank companionship that will reign all along our trek, the most skilful using their experience to give a hand to the most inexperienced ones, all in a cloud of laugh and chit-chat that dissolves on the protruding sides of the hills.
Everyone is walking at the tempo of his steps and the shrubs surrounding us. Among us are hidden some enlightened amateurs of biology or geology who are pleased to provide clarification to people nearby about the nature lightened by the sun.
The path turns right and we enter the shadow of the mountains, which hides some impressive trees.
Tortuous, grey and cleaved, they would almost seem dead if there weren’t early spring leaves growing at the canopy.
Between two rocks, our colony gathers for a picture to freeze the moment, capturing all smiles and rosy cheeks. Then, pushed by the force of the wind blowing in our back, we resume our journey.
Finally, the walk’s destination appears underneath, a verdant plateau in the hollow of the mountains contrasting with the shades of dark green and beige around us.
This surprising tiny path we followed is the one taken every day by Covas do Monte’ shepherds to make their sheep graze, giving a hand to nature so mountains can stay as wild and untamable as they were on this luminous Saturday.”