Blessed are we, walking through Portugal

Together, on the road. Across the vast expanse of the Alentejo. In the warmth of October. But the real bonus – the thing that makes all the difference – is something else. The added value lies in friendship. Those seventy-five kilometres in Portugal, from our start in Porto Covo to our arrival in Odeceixe, will remain unforgettable because the nine of us have been close for thirty years and our motto is ‘beate A noi’ (strictly in this ungrammatical southern version). Walking together against that backdrop was the crowning moment of that first meeting at university hall of residence, where we met – or rather, recognised one another. A time full of anxieties and youth. Today, none of us would go back to the stress of exams and the struggle for independence; we are all strengthened by the fact that we are who we are (each so different from the other).

Those five days in Portugal traced an emotional map marked by conversations and silences, photographs and memories, breaks and sunsets, right through to the weariness of the evening. The ocean was always there beside us. An ideal situation, unique in its own way, complete with a dinner and a toast to Gemma, Maria and Roberta, who have just turned fifty, and the presentation of a gift: a ticket to an ATP Finals match in Turin (yes, because this too binds us together – our passion for tennis).

The map could, in theory, stretch out endlessly: such an experience brings to the surface a thousand situations and episodes, but here we shall focus on the Alentejo, on a route that is the result of the political and economic commitment of those in that country – our ‘cousin’ – who sought to make the best possible use of their resources. Overtourism is nowhere to be seen; there are no crowds, and queues are unheard of. The houses and B&Bs that host us at the four stops along the way are charming; they have that unmistakable southern air – somewhere between the ancient and the run-down – which some might find a bit too much (but not us). It’s October, it’s true, but the season is perfect – ideal for avoiding the heat and walking with vigour.

Just arriving in the sunshine of Lisbon puts you in a good mood, and the journey from the airport to Porto Covo seems to take only a few minutes (despite the 170 kilometres) because the adventure of the ‘Fishermen’s Trail’ – as it’s called – awaits us. To be honest, the start the following morning isn’t exactly easy: we trudge along for quite a while on the soft sand. But the open spaces are boundless, our eyes are filled with green and blue, and when the two routes – the higher one and the one along the beach – from Ilha do Passegueiro join, we have no doubts: we’re heading towards the ocean; it’s time for our first swim. Soon, in fact, it’s also time for our first beer – the legendary Super Bock that’s been our constant companion on these days in Vilanova de Milfontes. Have we really walked twenty kilometres? Dinner, consisting of a sensational bacalhau à brás, tastes of reward and satisfaction, and also gives us the energy we need for the next day. The next stop, with rucksacks on our backs (our main luggage arrives directly in the evening at our destination), is Almograve. It’s a 15-kilometre stretch where nature becomes lush, the sheer cliffs captivate the eye, and the pine forest and dense reed beds offer shelter during the hottest hours. And when the Praia do Brejo Largo opens up in all its grandeur, with the rare footprints of those who have gone before and the sound of the sea, you’re left speechless. It’s impossible not to linger a while longer, before crossing that expanse of sand at a leisurely pace. Returning from the beach to the path above also means tackling a rugged, steep, muddy narrow passage, using a rope provided there for passers-by. We soon refuel with a tasty Alentejo-style toast (the thin layer of butter and oregano makes the crusty bread even more appetising), before resting in Almograve. It is a small, quiet, almost unassuming village, yet welcoming at the same time. This time, we’re treated to a dinner featuring a meat-based main course (the famous porco preto ), which restores our energy for the longest stretch of the following day. Twenty-two kilometres. Will we manage it after two days like this?

This time, however, fortunately there’s also plenty of unpaved ground along the path, so we make faster progress. At the same time, on the flat stretches, there’s time for a natter and shared memories. Until a discussion about artificial intelligence bursts in, seemingly plunging us back into the same hectic daily routine as always. For an hour, we dissect its pros and cons, ponder the risks and recount instructive anecdotes. Sometimes we disagree; on a few occasions, we defend our own points of view fiercely, until, suddenly… the cliffs, in all their beauty. And then everything calms down.