Hike to Espichel cape. Lagoa Pequena and Lagoa de Albufeira. Portugal

Distance 22 km (gpx), Elevation gain 312 m, Elevation loss 190 m

On that hike we found ourselves drowning in a sea of soft sand and wading through a maze of sharp reeds. Yet, we managed to catch the last bus home from a distant cape as the sun began to set. Here’s a recount of that exhausting but rewarding day.

In my ongoing quest for hidden natural swimming spots around Setúbal, I was captivated by the sight of two lakes on the map, situated to the north-west of town: Lagoa Pequena and Lagoa de Albufeira. With a quick investigation into public transport, I discovered an accessible route: a morning train to Coina, followed by bus #3540 to the Observatório das Aves. From there, I charted a 22-km hike to Cabo Espichel (the southwestern corner of the Setúbal peninsula), a journey that was supposed to follow the marked E9 route (or so I believed).

As we rode the bus, a wave of concern swept over me. The endless fences lining the road seemed to suggest that our exploration of nature might be restricted. However, to our delight, from the stop where we disembarked, an unobstructed path opened up into an ancient pine tree forest. The lake shimmered in the distance, but its shores remained elusive, and a swimming spot was nowhere in sight. Undeterred, we continued along the route, sheltered under the grandeur of towering pine hats. This part of the trail was pure bliss, the forest pristine and aromatic, with ancient trees reaching out to each other in an enchanting dance. As we neared the wetland between the two lakes, it became evident that the path we had seen on the map was submerged.

The only logical way forward was to get back to the asphalt road and cross to the other side of the stream. Fortune favored us as we discovered a narrow but passable trail through a lush meadow, and in no time, found ourselves on the opposite bank. We were once again welcomed into the embrace of an evergreen forest and followed what was supposed to be a marked route. However, that was not the case at all. We finally reached a sandy shore which, to our dismay, was littered with toilet paper left behind by weekend beachgoers. The Albufeira lake was beautiful though with still transparent water and colorful boats resting on anchors. In the distance, we saw horses galloping on sand dunes, adding to the picturesque scene.

From there, we navigated through a labyrinth of barely visible trails. Those hidden paths even led us to a private property once, our arms slightly cut by reeds and our boots full of thorns. But we persevered and eventually made our way to the high cliffs above the Atlantic. The route became more scenic but also more sandy, making every step an exercise in determination. It was reminiscent of the Rota Vicentina that we had enjoyed four years ago. That short stretch allowed us to relive great memories of our 150 kilometers journey along the Fisherman's trail with the soothing sound of the waves in the background.

The path gradually meandered inland. The soft sand under our feet transformed into dry rocky soil. Majestic pine trees gave way to evergreen bushes. The carpet of succulent plants with cream-colored flowers transitioned into thorny shrubs and white rockroses. We left the coastal well-trodden routes behind and slowly descended into the dense endemic greenery. There, next to a narrow, rarely walked trail stood an old stone well, still half filled with water. It was a hidden treasure of that hike, a place not marked on any map. We stopped for a short break and sat a while on a cold stone, absorbing the tranquility of the surroundings. Then we climbed up to the cape, Cabo Espichel, our destination for the day.

On that occasion, we chose not to visit the lighthouse, since we’d already seen it last year. As we waited for the last bus to Sesimbra, we spotted a fountain next to an 18th-century water house, unnoticed by tourists. There we discovered yet another jewel of the hike - a fig tree, flourishing inside a deep, ancient well. We could hear the murmur of an underground spring nourishing its roots. The robust branches, laden with fruits, grew defiantly above the metal net that covered the well. We decided to return in autumn, to taste the juicy fresh figs. This unexpected discovery added a final touch to our adventure, reminding us again that the most memorable moments are those that are unplanned.