At first everything is deliciously deceptive, various shades of mottled green, surrounded by the azure sea, which can be seen in the background, we left towards the pleasures of the Faja. We see along the path fields and people who greet us cheerfully from the patios of their homes. Having reached the peak of the goats, one gets the feeling that we will fall, the warm breeze wafting upward along the cliff and deep down below, Paul do Mar. The old pulley and wire are silent witnesses of the way they ingeniously carried large loads and orders already in the early twentieth century. Following up the stone stairs and behold, the real challenge begins; there are hundreds if not thousands of stairs that zigzag the cliff into the sea. Altogether I do not know how many, the only thing I can say is that although, at first there is a count after a short time we easily forget the detail, due to the danger. We have to go down with the help of a stick, and take care with the loose stones; one misstep and you finished our walk earlier than expected. The scenery is overwhelming. We followed in single file, always going down, it's hard, because it requires attention and skill, and the pressure is constant on the knees. We went down and down, in what appear to be endless stairs, more like a descent into hell. Anything else would be as a rise to infinity. Well, much easier by the way, I was told, but still cannot confirm. I have a natural tendency to do, unintentionally do the most demanding courses possible. Continue to decline, as the sun reaches its zenith, hunger announces itself with huge noises, lunch only at the end. Descending, more, more and more, a slow and safe pace that is only punctuated by moments to earn a little more breath and face the Atlantic landscape. At this point the way, my legs throb for mercy. I hear echoes of joy, the journey is approaching the end, widens access and we can lean on each other. I look up is staggering. I cannot believe all that way down the hill, a path that looks more like a serpent carved into the mountain. Paul do Mar, blessed earth and sweet mistake again, was too good to be true! I still have to walk along the promenade to the other side of town. Yes, I was expected with a well-deserved cold beer. Until the next round.