How do you spot the unprepared pair of hikers at Mount Pico, the highest point on Pico Island with an altitude of 2,351m? Well, they arrived at 1pm to commence what is normally a 7-hour trek (3 hours up, 4 hours down) with 1.5L of drinking water between them, a puny sandwich each for lunch, plus a couple of cereal bars for snack. And oh, no trekking poles either. There you go, it seemed F and I were off on a great start, no? :p
After a scenic drive from São Roque to the Casa da Montanha (i.e. House of the Mountain) that took longer than expected, but we suspect much prettier and off the beaten path compared to the route that most visitors have normally been sent along, we duly reported ourselves to the staff in charge so we can be registered, provided with a GPS tracking phone in case of emergency and rescue, and briefed on safety and relevant information. We were lucky that the day was clear and the conditions to trek, according to the staff, was the best for the dates that we were in Pico. We also had just about enough time to do a day hike and return before the day turned night. Up we go then!
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It is a given that I cannot head to Brittany without my runners or hiking boots in the bag. F and his buddy C are always looking for trails they can walk, and there are certainly plenty of them around Brest and its environs. Admittedly, I quite like these picturesque chemins côtiers too, it’s just that I’m often trailing behind them because (1) I stop all the time to take photos, and (2) the boys have longer steps that my short legs can’t quite catch up with.
The trail from the Fort du Dellec to the Pointe du Petit Minou (how cute are the names?) is a relatively short one compared to most that we do. It take about two hours to do a return trip, and C often even jogs here. If there is such a lovely jogging space nearer to our place, perhaps I could be motivated to run more often too. Or not. :p
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Having explored the old town of Dubrovnik and then walked the city wall, all in one morning, we decided to enjoy more of the city albeit a little differently. We decided to head up to Mount Srð, the mountain which stands over Dubrovnik to its north, with a peak height of 412 meters. That’s taller than St John’s in Kotor, so we were expecting some fantastic aerial views during this hike.
There are 3 ways to access the summit of Mount Srd. The easiest and quickest is by taking the cable car at Petra Kresimira Street, and the journey of mere minutes costs 60 kuna and 100 kuna respectively for a single and a return journey. For anyone with a car, it is also possible to drive up via the village of Bosanka. As for us, we took the active way up – some 90 minutes walk of it – a serpentine footpath which starts from Jadranska Cesta (near the long sign board which welcomes folks to Dubrovnik) above the old town and goes all the way up to the Fort Imperial.
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You may have noticed that we’ve been very active throughout our trip in Montenegro, and our second day in Lake Skadar was no different. We had had a hike to the Walnut Valley scheduled and booked with Ben, but due to forecasted storm on the next day, he had to bring forward another excursion and our walk was cancelled. Moreover, another couple who were supposed to be on the walk with us decided to rescind their booking, effectively left us with less than minimum number of persons required.
Nonetheless, understanding that we’d still like to give the walk a go on our own, Ben stopped by our cave apartment with a map and instruction on how to locate the trail ourselves. Armed with these two pieces of paper, we set out for the Walnut Valley, in the direction of Dupilo.
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It was already rather warm at 7.15am, an estimated 26°C. From the terrace of our temporary home, we could see a cruise ship that had docked overnight and would probably unleash a large group of visitors into the teeny tiny walled old town of Kotor. Unhurriedly, we finished our tea-and-cookies breakfast, lathered up with dollops of sun cream, and checked that the large bottle of water that was chilling in the fridge was now ensconced in the backpack. We were set for a hike up the mountain of St John.
There are two entry points to access the ramparts and fortifications that grace the slopes above Kotor: the main one near the North/River Gate, and another somewhere mid-town (which clearly we didn’t use since I have no idea what that entrance is called). Officially, the “door” opens at 8.00am, but when we got there just a little bit ahead, a ranger was ready to start his work day. For the sum of €3 per person, we each received a multi-lingual information brochure (with route map) and the official permission to commence our hike. I suspect anyone who got here much earlier could have just walked up without fee, since we were already encountering people coming down when we’ve barely started…
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We woke up on a Saturday morning to reasonable cloud cover but looked set to hold steadily. After a quick trip to the supermarket nearby to get our picnic supplies, we headed south-west of Brest to Camaret-sur-Mer. A 4.5-hours hike around this part of Crozon peninsula was our activity of the day. That, and getting back to Brest in time for a lovely dinner at a super sushi restaurant in town. This is how every excursion should be planned; something active, followed by something delicious as a reward for the hard work put in. ;)
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Morning of Day 2 in Annecy, we woke up early to be greeted by grey sky and drizzles, but undeterred, we put on our walking gear and headed in the direction of Semnoz. Based on direction given to us by Marc, the Église de la Visitation was our key landmark, and continuing along the avenue de la Visitation, we came to the starting point of our intended hike.
Multiple options of varying distance were available and we opted for a 3.5 hours (blue) circuit, figuring that’d get us back in Annecy for a late lunch. If we’d wanted a route with higher elevation, the 2.5 hours (red) circuit would be ideal, but Marc warned us that with recent rainfall, it may be just a tad too slippery without hiking sticks to aid us.
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On our final morning in Dublin, we woke up at the ungodly hour of six in the morning. Frédéric had been a little restless through the night. The unpredictable Irish weather had rendered our planned cliff walk from Bray to Greystone a no-go on the previous day, and he really hated the idea of leaving the excursion to another trip. He had stealthily checked the weather right before waking me up, and quietly declared “it IS clear this morning so shall we go to Bray?”
I groaned at remembering my promise from a few hours earlier that we would go if it’s not raining in the morning. Unfortunately, we could not leave any later either or we risked not getting back in time for our lunch meeting with Nora. Bray and Greystone are situated to the south of Dublin, of which travel time by DART from Lansdowne Road (the station closest to us, 10-12 minutes walk) takes about 35 minutes and 45 minutes respectively. A trail of cliff walk of about 6km separates the edges of these two small towns and here are some photos from the walk.
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Frédéric loves Dublin. Rather, the nature of Dublin that’s close to both the sea and the mountains, while at the same time it being a bustling capital city yet maintains a particular quiet charm that isn’t drowned out by the sound of city traffic. He sees a life where weekends away from the work desk are spent exploring the great outdoors, especially in the Wicklow Mountains, given the taster that he’d got when we went to Glendalough recently.
About an hour drive the south from Dublin city centre, Glendalough (i.e. glen of two lakes) is a former monastic city and today a popular site for visitors who are keen to see the traces left behind from the monastic heyday against the beautiful setting of the Glendalough Valley. We’ll come back to that a bit later in the post.
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For most part of our ascend by van to Horton Plains from Nuwara Eliya, we were shrouded in blankets of fog and visibility pretty much stayed within the range of a few meters ahead of us. Light drizzle also accompanied us on this early morning as Nilan drove up small and windy road of… well, I don’t really know, since I could hardly see much. Instinctively, I believe, if we ever slipped up, we would be rolling down the side of a pretty high hill.
However the task was not at all daunting for Nilan. The distance we were to cover was just over 30km but it’d take approximately 2 hours. He was busy as ever chatting on his mobile phone (hands free, in an unconventional manner – don’t ask) while Claire and I silently wished he would not be too distracted when he shouldn’t be. Honestly, we had no idea who he’d be talking to at six in the morning. If anyone ring me at that time, unless it’s an emergency, I’d hang up right away. Secretly though, Claire and I were impressed at the strength of mobile phone reception in this country. Even high up at a remote national park was no barrier to mobile telecommunication here!
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