Away to Gerês we go, Chapter III
Chestnut trees, waterfalls, and dives
Away to Gerês we go by Diogo Tavares, Chapter III
The morning dawned colder than the previous ones, and we were finding it hard to shed the synthetic goose feather wrap that Quechua peddles at cut-rate prices — which, of course, implies that someone has been exploited on the other side of the world. While our morning meal was being prepared, the sun drove away from the night dew and, with wily and wondrous efficiency, dried up our tents in a matter of minutes. Nothing like the mountain’s temperature range to shake your tired bones awake. Stretching out over the tent, where the branches of a centuries-old oak tree sheltered us during the night and now welcomed us to its shade.
The day’s big prize was a waterfall, Cascata do Ribeiro da Dola. Waterfalls are, as you can imagine, music to André’s ears and nectar to Coi’s fur. And yet, there was a long sharp descent ahead of us, seven kilometers between us and that dripping paradise. It wasn’t long before we crossed paths with more Garrano horses and splendidly-horned cows. Coi no longer reacts to other animals as if she’s dead-bent on biting off their legs. It’s become a kind of routine for her to rub shoulders, so to speak, with these unwieldy creatures, twenty times her size. There is now a peaceful inter-species coexistence.
André is handling the walking sticks like a true veteran. He has learned that even if worn out, dragging one’s feet will only slow you down, demand more effort, and add to the tiredness. So he lifts his legs, steadily and stoutly. The day has been long and hard, though, and the muffled moans and groans that escape his lips are a clear sign that he’d be happy to pack it in. He wouldn’t say no, I bet, to luscious ice cream by the cool turquoise waterfalls and then some nice no-ado-about-nothing. And an ice-cold beer for me, please!
From there to our good-old Gandula are just a hop and a skip. In less than thirty minutes, we had made it down to the end of a craggy, narrow trail with the quick boyish stride of those who are taking the first steps of an adventure. We then set our sights on Sirvozelo, the promised land of rest and ice-cream. We did it! The first autonomous mountain trek for André, sitting in an outdoor café, mouth smeared with chocolate. From where I’m standing, his face lit up with joy.
Photography & Words by Diogo Tavares
Edited by Marion Garnier & Bis Turnor
Traveller/s
Diogo Tavares
Trekking Leader, Graphic Designer & Outdoor Enthusiast.
Working through the complex task of simplifying life so that I can live it. It can be a 20 days walk in autonomy through the Icelandic cold, crossing lava fields without coming across a single human being, and calling home to my backpack; or a stroll up the Himalayas, reaching 5000m in bikepacking with just one pedal; or maybe floating upstream for days, as a lazy otter does; or simply getting my bike, crossing the Tagus river and go for a swim in the Ocean, with my son and Coi, the dog.
Big journeys, crazy adventures or just little daily walks in the middle of nature searching for the simple moments. Founder of @vadiagemoutdoors and Co founder of @bonsselvagens
@digstavares
