Walking Pinhal Interior.

We had been walking for about an hour and forty. As good citizens followed the yellow-red signs. This was hard at times. The signs tended to disappear and we needed to come back on the path many times.

It's supposed to be an easy to moderate difficulty hike. But the grade may be suited to someone used to mountains. Not for us Londoners.

I had eaten all the snacks and I was flagging. Too little water didn't help either.

The pick-up point was about forty minutes of struggle away.

I tried to think less about my sugar deficit and focus on the peace and quiet of the surroundings.

We didn't meet a single person. This was something new for me. I'd expect a place like this to be teeming in May.

Ok, that's not quite true; dog counts as a someone right? There was one friendly and equally hungry. About halfway through this circular walk in the village of Pena.

Well preserved. Exposed old stone walls. Someone more knowledgeable than us back then would know that this is a common style in the area. Called Xisto Village.

My imagination worked hard to picture what life might have been like here 95 years ago. It must have been a very isolated place. Tough people living truly self-sustainable lives.

Not out of privilege, but out of necessity.

In the nineteenth century, the epidemic of Ink disease killed most of the chestnut trees, plus deforestation caused by humans made that area suitable only for grazing goats and sheep. 

Then in the mid 20th century enforced pine trees planting pushed people out and created "Pinhal Interior".

Nowadays, only patches of old forest remain. Oak, birch, poplar. Spots of biodiversity that provide refreshing shade in summer, with the cooler and well-moistened ground below.

Apart that, pine trees creating monoculture and providing perfect environment for wild fires. 

This was probably our first adventure in Portugal. It gave us an idea of what hiking in this part of Europe can be like. As soon as my body forgot about that first time struggle I felt that the area was drawing me back.

I've been up there many times over the years, and each time less attached to the red and yellow trail. Every time amazed that I can wander for hours and hardly meet anyone.

Most visitors end their discovery at a place where they can park their car. They go for a little walk, take a few photos, and then return to the convenience.

I’m guessing that nature can be scary. Or perhaps just inconvenient.

If you’re brave and open to the inconvenience the prize is great.

There is a limitless open space to experience. Calm to absorb. Bicycle trials to explore. Endless sniffing trails for the dog. And if you're lucky, Deer to see.