Day 4 in Portugal, Day 3 on the Fisherman’s Trail. After a night of wrestling with mildew and humidity in Almograve, this stretch to Zambujeira do Mar would test us differently – not with sand or steep climbs, but with long, monotonous stretches that make you question why you’re walking instead of sitting at a beach bar. But first, let me tell you about the sandwich that nearly defeated me.
Rough Start: Humidity Hangover
That Almograve room did a number on us. No air circulation, humidity you could taste, and more strange dreams I couldn’t quite remember. My sister was up and out by 6:30 AM, returning with coffee from the local market while I attempted to feel human again with a quick shower.
We grabbed cheese sandwiches and supplies from the same market, stuffing them in our packs for later. Should’ve been a straightforward start – just walk the boardwalk route we’d taken to the beach bar the night before. But no, the official Fisherman’s Trail had other plans.
Instead of the direct route, the trail loops inland, adding what felt like an extra mile or two through the backside of town, over a beach, up a small hill. Met some hikers we’d chatted with the previous day, exchanged the universal “rough night?” look, and powered on.
Look, if you’re gonna say you hiked the Fisherman’s Trail, no asterisks – you walk every official meter of it.
Morning Glory: Coastal Cruising
Once we passed the sunset bar from the night before (what would’ve been a 10-minute walk direct, now 40 minutes into our day), the trail delivered some quality coastal hiking. Sun rising on our left, Atlantic on our right, rocky path that required just enough attention to wake up your brain.
The trail ducked inland through some nice tree groves – welcome shade and a scenery change that lifted our tired spirits. Despite the rough night and slow start, we were making good time, actually enjoying ourselves. The morning light on the Portuguese coast has a way of making you forget your troubles.
Cavaleiro: The Sandwich That Changed Everything
About halfway through the day, the trail turns inland toward a small town called Cavaleiro. Again, you get a choice – skip the town and go straight to the lighthouse, or walk the full official route through town.
No asterisks, remember? We went to town.
Right where the trail enters Cavaleiro, there’s a small restaurant packed with pedal bikers on some kind of tour. My sister wasn’t hungry, but I was running on fumes. Ordered an egg sandwich, orange juice, and some pastry thing.
Holy hell, that sandwich. When it arrived, I thought they’d brought me a platter meant for the table. This thing was monstrous – easily enough for two people. My sister had ordered one too before we realized the scale of these beasts. Ended up giving one away to another hiker.
Fresh-squeezed orange juice came in a pint glass. The pastry was solid. Hot sauce on the sandwich, and suddenly the day looked a lot brighter. Sometimes trail happiness comes down to finding the right sandwich at the right time.
The Lighthouse and the Long, Flat Truth
After Cavaleiro, you hit the lighthouse, and this is where I need to level with you about this section of the Fisherman’s Trail. The coastal drama ends. The trail flattens out into what can only be described as a dusty, straight slog.
You’re walking along exposed paths in the hot sun, occasional bushes providing spots of shade. Sure, there’s interesting plant life – sticky flowers and coastal vegetation you won’t see elsewhere – but after three days of dramatic cliffs and ocean views, this felt like hiking through a parking lot.
The monotony was real. Miles of straight, flat, dusty trail with nothing but your thoughts and the occasional lizard for company.
The Fishing Port False Hope
Eventually, you descend to a small fishing port and climb a pretty steep hill. There’s a restaurant at the top where we debated stopping. Should’ve stopped. Didn’t stop. Big mistake.
Because after that restaurant, the trail hits peak monotony. We’re talking several miles of boardwalk with speeding cars on one side, forest on the other, and these random exercise areas every few hundred meters like some kind of fitness trail from the 1980s.
This section felt eternal. When you’re tired, your feet hurt, and you’re walking along what’s essentially a highway shoulder disguised as a trail, every step becomes a negotiation with your willpower.
The Final Insult: 30 More Minutes
The trail finally breaks left, drops back to the coastline for a brief reunion with actual scenery, then climbs into Zambujeira do Mar’s town center. We’d made it! Trail done for the day!
That’s when I made the mistake of checking our accommodation location. Another 30 minutes of walking to reach our camping stay. The look my sister gave me could’ve melted steel. After the previous night’s mildew chamber, she was already researching alternative accommodations on her phone.
Camping Villa Park: Redemption by Pool
But then we walked into Camping Villa Park Zambujeira, and everything changed. They handed us keys to apartment 12A – an actual house with private rooms, a nice balcony, located right across from the pool with the bar and restaurant in sight.
After three days of hiking and one night of mildew hell, that pool looked like the promised land. Dropped the bags, changed, and dove straight in. Cold water washing away the dusty monotony of the afternoon? Pure magic.
Dinner at the on-site restaurant, early to bed, bags packed for the next day. Sometimes the best trail days aren’t about the hiking – they’re about the pool at the end.
Day 3 Reality Check from Fisherman’s Trail Almograve to Zambujeira do Mar
Almograve to Zambujeira do Mar: About 22 kilometers of mixed bag hiking. The morning coastal sections are solid, Cavaleiro’s sandwich game is strong, but the afternoon turns into a endurance test of flat, monotonous trail.
That final stretch along the boardwalk with cars might be the least interesting section of the entire Fisherman’s Trail. But Camping Villa Park makes up for it. Book the bungalows, not the camping spots. Your feet will thank you for that pool access.
The trail can’t all be spectacular cliffs and hidden beaches. Sometimes it’s just about putting one foot in front of the other until you reach the pool.
Pro tip: Stop at that restaurant above the fishing port. Break up the monotony. Trust me on this one. And when booking in Zambujeira, splurge for Camping Villa Park’s bungalows – that pool is worth every euro after this stretch.
