Shorter day. Shorter walk. Shorter blog today! Praise the Lord! And everyone said- Amen!
Starting from Baiona, walking the coastal route feels like walking through coastal communities that roll into each other, joined by sandy bays, headlands, and lovely beaches. No particular towns… just beach suburbs.
We follow the arrows, although they were very few today…
… across the river Miñor on the Ponte Románica da Ramallosa… and it’s a very easy flat walk. The medieval bridge, built in the 13th century, is believed to have replaced an older Roman one. Its ten arches connect Nigrán to Baiona… and I love old bridges.
And the Ramallosa natural area wetlands… known for its confluence of ecosystems where a river meets the sea, were lovely and a little different to the environments we had been passing through.
As we left Ramallosa, and walked along a path that headed over a headland. This was not the official route but because we had such a short walking day today we thought it might be nice. And it absolutely was… between beautiful old homes, that while perhaps not ‘lifestyles of the rich and famous’ were definitely owned by wealthy Spaniards…
… with amazing views and lots of security. The water was clear and blue and we could see across the bay to Baiona and its castle and harbour where we stayed last night.
After dropping down from the headland we arrived at a lovely long white sandy beach- Playa América, nearly two kilometres of soft white sand and calm waters and one of the most popular beaches in the area… and there are many. It is a beautiful day and there are many people enjoying the sunshine.
We decide for now to not stay but head to our accomodation as we have an early check in for the first time. It is a fair way from the beach, which is disappointing (who chose this place? 😂) but we figure we can shower and change and come back down. However, for the first time, our luggage does not arrive before us… in fact we are waiting for hours… which of course means we cannot shower and change. So we go down to the restaurant attached to the hotel and eat more bread, cheese and wine while we wait for our luggage.
We have booked a luggage service which transfers our main packs from accomodation to accomodation each day, allowing us to walk without carrying our luggage. This makes for an easier and more enjoyable experience, as we only have to carry a day pack. It’s been an amazing and reliable service and our bags have always been waiting when we arrived… but this was our shortest walking day and it didn’t quite work out the way we thought.
So, way later than we originally planned we head down to the beach for a lovely walk in the sand along the waters edge- my first earthing in ages. I love the feel of my bare feet in the sand and even the icy water of the Atlantic… much colder than the Pacific.
And then we go in search of a little restaurant I had noticed earlier as we first arrived here. An amazing meal and wine later and we start our walk back home. The beach is beautiful and the sun is starting to set and I would love to stay and watch it but it won’t be until 10.15 and that is just too late for these old Camino grannies.
Today there has been little indication that we are even on the Camino… there are few way markers, few pilgrims, few churches or shrines and today really just felt kind of like our regular walks at home… or maybe on holidays. Hopefully tomorrow will have more of that Camino feeling that is so hard to describe.
We set off this morning for the first time without any real breakfast. It was not included with our accomodation and there is nowhere in this village open at this time.
It is another perfect morning for walking… a cool 17° but the sun is out which makes me very happy as the water always looks so much more beautiful when the sun is out. It’s a wonderful quiet trail much like when we started yesterday. The path is easy and well-marked…
… and we walk between dry stone walls, passing cows and horses, and fields awash with wildflowers.
Several times today we end up back on the yellow brick road…
… and we have glorious sweeping views of the coast and the headland!
The arrows lead us onto quieter residential streets and greener trails. Along the way, we pass a cool art installation of painted rocks and pebbles.
From a distance we see a windmill and of course I take lots of pictures of it sitting above the stunning coastline.
When we finally get to it, we are very relieved to find it is part of a campsite including an open cafe… with food, drinks and bathrooms… perhaps the only one we will find all day. For a route dotted with small coastal communities, services are sparse. It is nearly lunchtime and we enjoy fresh squeezed orange juice and a bread roll. And it is always a thrill (particularly for Anne) to have access to a real bathroom.
My app shows there is two options for the next couple of kilometres and we decide to follow the coastal one. We find a lovely peaceful place to sit staring out at the blue horizon and feeling the peace and refreshing the ocean brings. There are hundreds of rocks and boulders smoothed over time by the power of nature and we have great appreciation for the ocean’s vastness, power, and beauty.
The only negative here is that the little path to get here is lined in toilet paper… which is a common issue on the trail as there are very few facilities. I carry a little plastic bag for paper any time I need a bush wee… and I wish everyone else did too😂🤷🏼♀️
Eventually we continue on one of my favourite paths of the whole trail so far. Walking along with the ocean on our left there are wildflowers lining both sides of the trail… sometimes quite high. It is totally enchanting and I am completely delighted… and of course no photos could ever do it justice.
Wildflowers from today
We arrive back at the road and find we need to climb a mountain… or at least it feels like it. It’s actually our introduction to the Gallacian hills and the arrows guided us up and over the headland along a rocky trail with incredible sweeping views of the coast.
A beautiful garden just before we started climbing.
The path begins with a soft trail underfoot, but it quickly turned rocky as we climbed higher. We just took it slowly, taking a moment to soak up the views and realise how far we had come. This really was a glorious little path but it is steep and challenging. In some areas it really reminded us of the Australian bush with lots of gum trees and eucalyptus.
A trekking pole assisted Toyota jump in triumph as we made it to the top 😂
On the way down, we meet and chat with a lovely breast cancer survivor from Florida who is actually running her Camiño. I think that gets my hero of the day.
We make our way back down past some dry stone walls, and into a village. Keeping an eye on the yellow arrows as we end up on the yellow brick road again and on another big hill. It’s a long climb and left us puffing a little, but we did really well and from the top, we had a great view of Baiona, where we are staying tonight. And from here it was all downhill.
One of the main reasons I had chosen this route coming back to the coastal area was because I had heard about a sea-glass beach between Oia and Baiona and was really looking forward to seeing it. This area of coast used to be a landfill site but over the years pieces of broken glass bottles have been smoothed and rounded by the sea. The tide has pushed these colourful crystals onto land and created a green hue to this tiny, gravelly beach. But I only realised when it was too late, that to do that, we would have had to go off the Camino trail where we headed up the mountain… and instead continued on a cycling path at sea level which would have taken us past a lighthouse and to the beach. But our mountain trail completely cut across the headland and didn’t surface again until we arrived in Baiona… which was about 4km too late. And in a 20+km day- going back another 4km and then back again was not an option. 😩
But I have realised that happiness is not about reaching a particular destination but finding a way to embrace the moments that make up every day. If I judge an experience only in relation to whether I get the outcome I want, I completely miss the opportunities for joy in front of me. And so I missed something I really wanted to see but also experienced a wonderful and beautiful challenge that was perhaps more valuable in the end.
”The last 4 kilometres of any day always seem the longest, and the walk into Baiona was no exception. We meandered down the big hill that we’d just climbed, making our way back to sea level, walking through residential streets. When we reached the bottom, I looked for details of our accomodation and put it into Maps… and yes, you guessed it… it was back up that hill… as if we hadn’t climbed enough hills today.
After a bit of a rest and a shower we head out to do a little exploration of the town. It is a medieval port town and is much bigger than our tiny village we loved so much last night.
We visit the Capela de Santa Liberata and the Colexiata de Santa María de Baiona…
… leading us into the narrow streets of the medieval quarter filled with well-preserved small buildings, cobbled streets and Galician-style terraced houses.
The area is filled with restaurants, bars, and shops. Being a port city, many restaurants serve a menu focused on the local seafood… which we did eat later for dinner.
We stroll around the old town and then find ourselves at the main harbour and wander the waterfront…
… with lovely views of Baiona’s most prominent building… the 12th century Monterreal Castle which dominates the promontory perched dramatically overlooking the sea.
Its impregnable defensive walls once repelled the attack of the English, who disembarked here in 1585… and still stands, though there’s not much old left inside it now.
Within the precinct today is the luxurious, medieval-castle-style Parador hotel Baiona. We walked around this impressive place and I climbed the ramparts for excellent views of Baiona and the surrounding coastline from its elevated position.
They say it takes a while to get your “camino legs” and sadly that doesn’t mean slim, shapely ones. It refers to the physical adaptation and resilience of your legs after walking long distances on the trail. It encompasses the physical changes, like muscle strengthening and increased stamina… and I am very proud of us both today… by far our longest walking day… and I still had the desire and energy to climb the ramparts… very different from some of the earlier days when I barely had the energy to shower and dress after the days walk. That’s progress.
Dinner and the long walk back up the hill to our home for the night… and bed. But always blogging first.
“It’s your road and yours alone. Others may walk it with you, but no one can walk it for you.” – Rumi
Day 8 and 9
I feel a little sad to leave the central route with its beautiful villages, rural pathways, vineyards and cornfields… and am wondering if we made the right choice. We hop in an uber to start our day as we are switching back to the Litoral/coastal route that was always our plan. The car is very comfortable and the driver is lovely and very chatty the whole way. He tells us he much prefers the central route which again makes me doubt my choices.
Although we also know now that had we continued on the central route, our next stage would have been the most difficult stage of the whole route with a lot of climbing and in 30°+ temperatures… which Anne would really struggle with. Our struggles are very different. Anne struggles with the hills and heat. Those are not such an issue for me except that the heat exacerbates my hikers rash and swelling. I struggle with downhills and the length of our walks each day. The reduction in temperature will definitely make it easier all around. And it is what it is, and we have to believe that we have been guided to choose the route we have and that the Camino will provide the experience, lessons and blessings that we need.
We arrive in Caminha where we will catch the boat over the river to Spain. The main ferry apparently got stuck on a sandbar two years ago and is still there. So now everyone uses what they call water taxis and once there is enough people they leave… and go back and forth all day. It is a small dinghy boat and we drag our big bags over the sand and climb in.
Someone even has a bike with them. We are all handed big dirty life jackets as we push off towards Spain… crossing the Mediterranean in a small leaky boat. Not really😂… but Anne does comment that it feels like we are boat people sneaking our way across rough treacherous seas… towards a new life. Actually it is a 10 minute boat ride across the Mino river … but it is blustery and a little rough and we can’t stop laughing and end up with everyone else laughing too.
We make it to the other side… alive… and with our luggage wet but in one piece and we drag ourselves off the boat.
My life on a pastel de nata diet has come to an end. Hola España- we are now in Spain.
I google our accomodation and it is 3km away uphill. No problem… we will call an Uber. But… no cars available! I now believe it does not operate in the area we are in. Oh well… we follow our Camino arrows up… up… up and eventually make our way to our accomodation for the night which is situated in a beautiful old convent… the Hotel Monumento Convento de San Benito in the small city of AGarda. We are pretty impressed with ourselves that we managed the walk with barely a heavy breath despite dragging our 15kg+ packs and our daypacks.
Overlooking the Atlantic Ocean and presided by the Miño river and the Monte de Santa Tecla hill fort, the town of A Guarda is famous for its lobsters. They even have a lobster festival next month. Hopefully we may get to try some later. For now we head off looking for a sandwich or something and end up with a kebab and a wine from the restaurant next door.
It is later than expected as we have moved an hour forward crossing into Spain and the sunset is now not until 10.15 so sadly, as that is well past Anne’s pumpkin time, it is very unlikely we will see another one.
We spend some time exploring the charming town with a rich history and strong fishing heritage, which is evident in its gorgeous little harbour and seafood restaurants that line it. I love it immediately with it colourful buildings…
… and little beach with clear turquoise water.
Had it been a couple of days earlier there is nothing I would have wanted more than to jump in but the temperature has dropped by more than 10° since we moved back to the coast and there is a strong and very chilly breeze. Not swimming weather for me no matter how tempting it looks.
We have an afternoon rest and we both sleep… not good for me as it almost ensures that I will not sleep well tonight… and eventually head out to the piano bar that is part of our convent accomodation. There is no piano music tonight but there is wine and we have a lovely conversation with Jill from Melbourne before heading off to one of the many restaurants along the harbour for some delicious and huge prawns for dinner.
After little sleep for me, we set off on a cool and misty morning. The low cloud that was with us all day yesterday has descended even further so you can barely see the hills behind the town.
But we are blessed that the high winds of yesterday have died down and the conditions are perfect for walking.
Our route follows the coastline to Oia which is about 15km away. If I told you that today you could walk along a wild and rocky coastline, paddle in shallow waters in a few sandy beaches, eat a fabulous seafood lunch overlooking the Atlantic if that took your fancy, and wander around a long since abandoned medieval monastery, would you want to rush? Well we didn’t want to either! Which is why I cant understand why so many people choose to walk double our kilometres on this stage and continue all the way to Baiona… which is our destination tomorrow.
This is our first full day walking in Spain, through the Celtic lands of legends and ancient peoples. It’s not a day to be rushed. And I just love the first stages of our walk today with its tiny little beaches. Most people I know love the long sandy beaches so common back home… but I have always found the tiny ones (like Froggys on the Gold coast) to be so much more picturesque.
Although I do just love the beach… any time… any size… despite that I am not much of a swimmer. I am drawn to it… the wind, the salt, the seagulls… and am overtaken by the sensations of peace and happiness. I feel at one with the world and at peace with myself and all that is happening in my life—chaos included… at least for now. It’s like a natural antidepressant.
Marine biologist Wallace J. Nichols believes that we all have a “blue mind… that is a mildly meditative state characterized by calm, peacefulness, unity, and a sense of general happiness and satisfaction with life in the moment.” According to Wallace, this is triggered when we’re in or near water. “We are beginning to learn that our brains are hardwired to react positively to water and that being near it can calm and connect us, increase innovation and insight, and even heal what’s broken.” Makes total sense to me… but back to the trail.
The trail itself is straightforward, and it feels like you’re miles from anywhere… hugging the coast with stunning views for much of the way. There is a few sections of road walking, I called the yellow brick road… though it’s not brick it definitely is yellow. It’s safe and easy to navigate compared to some of the roads that we have journeyed on.
It is a beautiful stage with a little more elevation than we expected as the path at one stage was closed due to apparently being blocked with water and mud… thus sending us up the hill to bypass this area. But this did give us plenty of opportunities to soak up the scenery.
Much of the time, the only sounds were the crunch of our footsteps on the gravelly path, the chirping of the birds and the calm ocean as a background to it all.
There was a little café about halfway with stunning views of the sea, where many pilgrims stop… but we weren’t in need of sustenance at that stage although we did take advantage of the bathrooms.
I was advised to always use them when available as you never know when the next opportunity will come. I have only had to do a bush wee once but have had to be lookout for Anne on many occasions.
Anne had our first fall today. It seemed like slow motion watching her as she hit the ground and I felt like an angel had caught her and put her softly down. She didn’t fall hard and was completely fine… but we do have to constantly watch the ground… so many different and changing surfaces… dirt, gravel with loose stones, rocks, tree roots… all sorts of things that can trip you up.
Can’t imagine doing it in crocs but we did see a girl walking in them today. We also saw one with a toddler on her back… our hero for the day.
Nearing the end of the days walk, we turn off from the yellow brick road and head steeply downhill on a quiet meandering path that led us to the Ermita de San Sebastián. This tiny old chapel, overlooking the sea, is dedicated to San Sebastián.
It was a lovely simple little chapel where you could leave prayer requests with the promise that they would be prayed for. You can also light a candle there if you want to and there is a stamp for our credential.
Not sure if I have explained this but we picked up our Camino “passport” or credential at the Porto Cathedral. The pilgrim’s official credential is a sort of passport which must be stamped on each stage of the route. Its origins date back to the Middle Ages and the document which was given to pilgrims for use as a safe-conduct. There is a space at the top for the seal of the place that issues the Credencial – for us the Porto Cathedral… at the bottom of the same page, the date and the Cathedral’s stamp will be placed after completing the pilgrimage… in Santiago de Compostela. It must be stamped at least two times a day during your journey as proof of the pilgrimage, allowing the pilgrim to request the Compostela certificate upon completion. These stamps can usually be found at your accomodations, some cafes and restaurants, churches and random places… like one day walking in the central route I noticed a sign that said, “stamp behind the tree” and there we found a little shelf with the stamp as well as pilgrim memorabilia.
Just 600 meters further from the little chapel we entered the glorious little village of Oia, dominated by the Monastery of Santa María de Oia, a 12th-century Cistercian monastery perched beside the sea. The town is tiny but so gorgeous… the old town a maze of cobbled streets to explore filled with beautiful stone buildings all overlooking the dramatic rugged coastline below.
The majority of pilgrims and tourists walk straight through this place, not even stopping to enjoy a coffee or drink. As far I am concerned, what a mistake they are making… the Camino is not a race… and so much beauty is missed by treating it like one.
A particular restaurant had been recommended and we stopped by to book for dinner… but liked it so much we decided to have some cheese and wine there for lunch as well… with unspoiled views of the small bay, parts of the town and the monastery.
Afterwards we continue on to the historic Santa maria de Oia Monastery located right on the coast and currently being restored… which means you can’t actually see it inside but it is still so beautiful overlooking the bay.
Our accomodation at Casa Arrabal is stunning- a 2 bedroom stone country house with all the modern cons… but right on the street and we can hear every words of the passers by. Hopefully it’s an early-to-bed town.
We head back to our lunchtime restaurant for dinner, when in walks Jill who we met last night and joins us for dinner. We end up inviting another woman sitting alone to join us- Veda and we have a long and lovely meal together…
… staying long past pumpkin time and watching as the day bleeds into night fall.
There are lots of things about the Camino that are a little difficult to explain… the emotions involved is one of them. You can walk a day and feel like it was really lovely (or not) and you can walk a day with tears constantly in your eyes without any real explanation. Today was one of those days. I felt so totally blessed. And grateful.
“Walking is a man’s best medicine”- Hippocrates (ancient Greek physician)
Day 6 and 7
And today I needed medicine. Yesterday afternoon I started with tummy cramps and the resulting many visits to the bathroom overnight does not bode well for a long walk… but we head off as usual… a little earlier actually as today is going to be hot.
We say good bye to our beautiful friends Constance and Matthew… though we have bumped into them so many times, this may be the last time as we are having a rest day once we reach Ponte de Lima whereas they will continue on their journey. It has been so lovely connecting with this couple over the last few days.
We pass a tiny church and then, leaving Balugães behind, walk through vineyards and lush green countryside.
Our destination today is Ponte de Lima… an ancient little town along the Lima river. It is a beautiful day on the Camino… peaceful and quiet… passing vineyards, orchards, pretty homes with beautiful gardens that are a riot of spring flowers…
… with the last of the springtime wisteria still blooming. The sun is shining and the birds are singing. Walking along a mixture of dirt tracks, cobbled paths and, occasionally, some paved roads, we really enjoy the morning although there is a little more climbing than in previous days and the sun is hot. I am using the walking sticks as it was a challenging route for much of the day.
We miss an arrow but very quickly realise when we come to a T with no arrow and I check my app which shows it was only a few metres back. Constantly looking for arrows to keep us in track.
More cornfields… always more cornfields… and grapevines. At one stage we pass a literal wall of jasmine that just keeps going and the beautiful fragrance lingers.
I notice monuments to those walking the Camino- from tile depictions to scallop shells hanging from a post above the roadway as a form of greeting to those who pass below it.
The powerful and protective symbol of the Ways to Compostela, the scallop shell has its beginning according to tradition in the sandy beaches we have already passed on our first few days walking. It represents pilgrimage, guidance, and spiritual transformation. It signifies the journey, with its lines converging towards Santiago de Compostela, and symbolizes the interconnectedness of pilgrims. Historically, it served as a practical tool for pilgrims to eat and drink, and has become a widely recognized emblem of the Camino, used on markers and worn by pilgrims. We have one hanging on our packs.
It is very quiet today and we don’t come across many pilgrims although as we rest beside a church an Australian passes and stops for a chat. Deb from Melbourne on her second Camino, walked 37 km yesterday. Wow! When I hear things like this it can make me feel a bit pathetic when I’m struggling to walk 18km. But comparison is the thief of joy and I have to be grateful that my body is allowing me to do this at all.
The rest of our walk took us through more lovely countryside and small villages where there were more shrines at frequent intervals along the way. Some are decorated with colourful ribbons, prayer cards, a pair of boots, signs, a small stuffed animal, shells, statues, flowers, photos, a rosary, bits of this and that.
At one point, walking over a pass between valleys, we came upon what can only be described as a Fairy Glen; on the lefthand side, the forest filled with wild calla lilies…
… on the righthand side the orange-yellow trumpets flowers you see in the picture below, faces turned down towards us. It was magical, and refreshing, and unphotographable.
Quiet paths, byways and cobbled tracks, peaceful landscapes, woodlands, vineyards and quaint Portuguese villages with rich histories and legends.
There were sections where trees provide some shade, but others where the sun was beating straight down on us and as the day went on and got hotter, it became more and more difficult. And we ran out of water. There had been no bathrooms, no shops, no cafes or bars at all today… and suddenly… like an oasis in the desert, there was an esky outside someone’s home with bottles of water and a donation tin.
We couldn’t have been more grateful and gulped that precious liquid before making our last push towards Ponte de Lima.
The Camino always provides.
At one point we were under a grapevine arbour walkway and of course, more cobblestones. And then… an ethereal entry to Ponte as elegantly arching sycamore trees made a stunning sun-dappled veil overhead like a shimmering illusion. To overheated exhausted pilgrims, it was so welcome. There was a huge market under the trees along the river and we walked through the middle, not even looking, just wanting to get to our hotel as quickly as possible.
We could see in the distance the famous Roman bridge from which the town gets its name.
The oldest village in Portugal, Ponte de Lima, turned out to be just lovely… after showers and rest. And we have a great view from our room.
Full of character and charm…
… the town sits on the slow-flowing Lima River, and has been the primary river crossing since the Romans constructed a bridge here in 1AD. The age of the town is reflected in a delightful assortment of medieval houses, pretty plazas and ancient religious buildings throughout the town… and it has stunning natural scenery, which all together creates a wonderful little town.
We make ourselves presentable and go out for a wine. We google restaurants nearby and read the reviews and decide on a little tapas place. When we put it into google maps, we realise we are already sitting in it having our wine.
So we stay for dinner and head home for bed. It is nearly sunset and we aren’t usually around at this time, so I leave Anne to go to bed and go out to watch the sunset- nothing spectacular but such a pretty place.
I also decide to get up soon after sunrise. I knew it would take a while for the suns rays to actually come over the town and hit the gorgeous old bridge- just beautiful.
We have a rest day today, planned months ago for practical reasons… but another little blessing of the Camino as today is forecast to be around 37° and I would hate to have been walking in that heat… yesterday at 34° was bad enough. We spend the day resting and doing chores- washing clothes✔️…bank ✔️… send parcel home to lighten my main pack✔️… chemist for more nurofen, chapstick and something for my hikers rash (yes it’s a real thing)✔️
And I do a little exploring through the town and visit some of the churches.
I’m actually disappointed to be leaving this town tomorrow. Preparations are being made everywhere for the Corpus Christi “party” that starts tomorrow night and goes into the next day. It’s actually hard to envisage this place in party mode as it is such a quiet town. But there are lights and sound systems being set up all over town and huge bars ready for copious amounts of drinks. They are testing one of the sound systems as I write. Apparently people come in from towns for miles. It’s a pity to miss it although we had plenty of music blasting in the middle of the night in Lisbon. What would have been a huge highlight would have been to see the streets of the historic center adorned with intricate floral carpets, created by residents using flowers, sawdust, and other materials. The carpets are made for the Corpus Christi procession, where the Blessed Sacrament is carried through the town.
I remember being in Guatemala for something similar and it was amazing.
Anyway, it is not possible at this stage and it’s a new adventure for us again tomorrow as we head into Spain.
The church bells are ringing… nearly all day. It’s Sunday… and in every village, they’re chiming us in and out… and then just keep ringing all the way in between. I love the sound of church bells and as we walk today I wonder how many people over the centuries have heard those bells, and here we are… walking through more sleepy villages, cornfields and vineyards listening to those bells.
I remember going to see the Powerhouse exhibition “1001 remarkable things”. There was this huge really old bell there, I think from the 14th century or something and I read that according to Buddhist tradition, the sound of a bell can gladden the heart of immortals, stop ghosts from their evil-doings and break open the gates of hell to bring relief to the suffering and the distressed. No wonder I love the sound of church bells.
Today is Mums birthday… heavenly birthday for those who might not know me. And it somehow seemed quite poignant for me today, walking the Camino, listening to those bells when it was mum that had really started my journey towards the Camino.
Doing the Camino is a deeply personal and transformative journey… and it’s different for everyone. Many walkers seek spiritual growth, a sense of accomplishment, or a connection to nature and community. Many don’t really know why they’re walking and I would likely place myself in that category but I felt it calling and I guess any chance for self-discovery and reflection is positive.
Things come up inside you when you walk – sometimes it’s grief about people you’ve lost or disappointments in how your life has turned out… maybe missed opportunities… fear of the future. Other times, it’s sheer delight at being alive. It’s about coming to terms with your own story. And that’s what pilgrimages are about. Breaking open your heart. And I felt a bit of both today… grief and joy.
I felt a connection with mum… even though our relationship was always difficult. And maybe that is part of why I am here… coming to terms with never having the relationship with her that I might have expected… the disappointment of what never was and never can be. And as I was thinking about this, I came across a gardenia bush… which I hadn’t seen in Portugal before. Gardenias were mum’s favourite flower and what we threw on her coffin before she was buried. I picked one and attached it to my pack and had that beautiful fragrance with me all day. One of the small blessings of the Camino. They say “the Camino always provides”… whatever it is you need. Even if it’s a gardenia.
There was also sadness as we heard of the passing of a beautiful friend back home… happy knowing she was ready and had been with family… and grateful for a life well lived…and for generational friendships but sadness knowing we will never see her again this side of heaven.
I also felt joy from just being in the right place at the right time. It was a glorious morning and lovely to be walking in the sunshine, through the countryside with its valleys and hills, along ancient pathways, through vineyards, farms and brief patches of fragrant pine and eucalyptus forests. The path was clear and easy to read with lots of well-maintained signs, arrows and way markers and very little need to stop and read a map.
Far off in the distance I could hear drumming and wondered what it was… probably some kind of festival as there has been one in nearly every place we’ve been. We continued to walk and it didn’t stop. Eventually we got to the tiny village of Lijó where the drumming was coming from and it seemed like the whole town was walking towards something. We were going this way anyway and followed… just in time as everyone descended on the little chapel of Santa Cruz… built in 1843 after a cross appeared on the ground. Some kind of celebration was happening apparently associated with the Festival of the Crosses (Festa das Cruzes), which takes place in June, specifically at this time.
There was a small procession carrying the cross of Jesus covered in flowers…
… and a narrow carpet of flowers leading to another cross covered in more flowers.
I had no understanding of what was happening but it was quite beautiful and gave me an unexpected moment of joy.
We passed a few little churches as we always do and then heard some lovely singing coming from a modern church… so we called in and sat down, just in time to hear a beautiful rendition of Hallelujah in Portuguese… a song we both love. Another of the many small blessings of the Camino.
Passing through more small villages we reached Ponte das Tabuas, a twelfth century bridge that passes over the Rio Neiva. I sat on the bridge with my feet hanging over watching the water flow by slowly thinking about what a beautiful day it had been… and wondering how far til we could stop.
And thankfully from the Ponte das Tabuas it was a walk of only about a kilometre or so before getting to the tiny hamlet of Balugaes- a place so small that it can’t even be described as a village… and then we saw the blue door of Casas da Quinta da Cancela in front of me.
We were lucky once again as our home for the night was right on the Camino path. What a treat! As soon as we opened the door we said “Wow”… there was such a sense of serenity and beauty with grapevines everywhere.
Idyllic old farm with stone buildings kept mostly as it had always been and now used as accommodations for pilgrims… a peaceful place surrounded by nature… and we were staying in the actual original farmhouse.
Checking in with Alex, the host, we arranged to have dinner onsite. It was a Sunday, we were exhausted and weren’t sure what, if anything, would be open in Balugães so it seemed like a good (easy) choice. As it turned out, our friends Constance and Matthew were once again staying at the same place and we could have dinner together… probably for the last time 😢…
“Of all the paths you take in life, make sure a few of them are dirt.” John Muir
Day 4
Today was a very good day… and much like what I had actually expected of yesterday. Looking out my window I could see that the sun was shining really for the first time since leaving Porto and I was looking forward to getting on the road after yesterday’s disappointments.
We began with wonderful conversation at breakfast with our friends Constance and Matthew whom happened to be staying at the same guesthouse… and another American, Chris who is on his 7th Camino in 8 years. Chris was a gentle and wise deep thinker with a passion for people less fortunate than himself who has spend much of his life working for NGOs. We talked about all sorts of things… one of those positive and inspirational conversations that leave you feeling a little more hopeful for the world… but one thing particularly stayed with me. We had discussed how negative words have so much stronger impact on people than positive words… they seem to stick. He agreed and wondered why, we can’t replace post traumatic stress disorder with post ecstatic joy remembrance… and in the moment it seemed like such a wonderful idea… to focus on the wonderful memories and experiences of life rather than the traumatic ones.
The mornings route took us through back roads, dirt farm paths, young vibrantly green corn fields, forested areas and a fragrant eucalyptus forest which I didn’t expect here in Portugal. Nature and stillness surrounded us… and the only sounds were our footsteps crunching on the ground… the buzzing of bees and the ever persistent bird song… an occasional moo or rooster crow… and the sound of our own breath.
Grapevines abound and wildflowers bloom everywhere.
It was good walking weather- warmer than it has been previously and no jackets or jumpers are needed. Apparently hot weather will very soon be upon us.
I hadn’t used my poles since leaving Porto… actually hadn’t even taken them out of my large pack until today as we would be walking a variety of road surfaces and hills… and as I remember from my Machu Picchu trek, they were very helpful for the downhill stretch and took some of the weight off my knees.
On the coastal route, the yellow arrow “waymarkers” are few and far between because the general rule is to follow the sidewalks or boardwalk along the ocean. On the central route, the arrows become essential as streets wind through farmlands and villages, beside homes and businesses. Not all arrows are on formal markers. Many are painted on the backs of signposts, sides of walls or on the pavement.
Every kilometre or two there are also the official Camino marker, telling us how many km left to Santiago although it will be more for us with the route we have decided to take. These waymarkers are often made into little pilgrim shrines with mementos and small stones left here.
We come across a giant brightly coloured rooster, the symbol of Portugal, basically in the middle of nowhere.
The Barcelos rooster is the country’s emblem because one of these creatures supposedly saved an innocent pilgrim from death. In the same place there is an area where pilgrims have left personal items, abandoned shoes (some with plants growing in them), momentos… a makeshift memorial… and this is a common practice on the many camino routes through Europe.
Anne squats behind a wall for a wee with me on lookout, as bathrooms are few and far between… and just seconds after she is presentable, an Italian man walks past. Lucky this time 😂
We see other pilgrims throughout the day… and there is always the greeting, ”bom caminho” as we pass them (or they pass us) at rest stops. We see Constance and Matthew several times during the day and meet others from Hungary, Colombia and walk for a while with a young girl from Germany who dreamed of doing a Camino since she was 15.
We walk for the rest of the day, through farms and the Portuguese coutryside… full of churches…
… shrines… lemon trees and villages where the paths vary between narrow lanes, cobblestone streets and rocky dirt roads. And wildflowers… always wildflowers.
We finally arrive in Barcelos… an old town famous for the legend that lies behind the Rooster of Barcelos the painted statue we saw earlier and the colourful souvenirs that are prolific throughout the town and actually all over Portugal.
The town is bigger than I expected… and more awesome… with a vibrant medieval vibe. Almost as soon as we walk over the historic medieval bridge…
… it becomes obvious very quickly that there is some kind of medieval festival on and you can tell who the tourists are because all the towns people are dressed up in costume.
It’s huge… with markets covering the town which is buzzing with tourists.
We quickly go to our hotel to shower and change so we can explore the town.
This ride was not mechanised- the guys would hold the seats and then run to get it going.
The city’s historic center features monuments and landmarks that reflect its rich history.
We check out the Archaeological Museum of Barcelos which occupies what remains of 15th century Palace of the Counts of Barcelos, after the 1755 earthquake.
The flower filled plaza surrounding the main Barcelos cathedral was a visual delight after a day filled with dusty roads and cobblestones.
Mother church of Barcelos (Santa Maria Major), Romanesque from the 14th century
I fell in love with Solar dos Pinheiros with its pretty windows and sand-coloured stone and flowers.
Temple of Senhor Bom Jesus da Cruz was a unique, octagonal building dates back to the early 18th century, and its interior is a nice example of Baroque architecture with some lovely azulejo tile work.
We then sat in a lively outdoor bar and enjoyed a glass of wine and some chips… which then filled us up so our plans of having a lovely dinner at a nearby restaurant went out the window. Home to bed. This Camino business is exhausting!
“A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step.” – Lao Tzu
Day 2
Today was a really wonderful day!
We started with a fabulous breakfast at a hotel around the corner from our inn, included with our accomodation. Here we met another couple of lovely woacas Dana and Bobbie… from the USA before we headed off.
Rain is expected at 9 and right on time it arrives. Not heavy but making everything a little misty and bit miserable. And I can never seem to get my temperature right- jumper on, jumper off, shirt on, raincoat on, raincoat off. Maybe we need ponchos that will cover our packs… but I am believing for little rain as we journey on.
It didn’t take long to find our first arrow… looking for these will be an important part of our day for the next few weeks, ensuring that we stay on track… along with the Camino Ninja App and Google Maps.
We walked through town, crossed the Rio Leça, and then walked a few blocks to the Atlantic Ocean, which we would follow all day long.
Leaving Matosinhos, which is really an outer suburb of Porto, makes today feels like our first real stretch of walking… the first real Camino-ing. And it’s beautiful despite the slightly blustery and rainy day. Not far from Matasinhos, Anne stops for the bathroom where we meet another lovely couple from the US who are currently living in Singapore and not sure if they’ll ever go back. Here we also run back into Dana and Bobbie and end up continuing our journey with them for much of the day until they stop for their booked accommodation. We have great and easy conversation as we walk about family, life, the universe and everything. It is exactly what I had been hoping for on our Camino… connecting with random strangers from all over the world.
We pass plenty of cafes as we are still on the outskirts of Porto… pass a lighthouse… several old forts and chapels along the way between here and La Bruge. For much of the day our pathway is boardwalk, with a few cobbled sections and the day is a mixture of nice little towns and rugged but lovely coastline. We walk through Praia de Angeiras, with a tiny little colourful fishing village that feels really authentic…
… and eventually stop for a break to rest our weary legs, take the shoes off and eat a snack which we carried with us from breakfast this morning. Another young girl Bethan, from Wales who we have bumped into several times, joins us as well.
As we continue on we pass lots of beautiful beaches where you could probably stop for a swim if you like cold water and swimming in the current conditions (which I definitely don’t) but I do love the sea… and here I am, walking by the ocean in Portugal.
And, as I look out at the endless ocean and along the coastline that stretches into the distance, I feel: this is all ours to soak up and enjoy… the road that lies before me is a gift, and here in this vast space I am also a part of something bigger. That I get out not only from the 4 walls of my everyday life, but also from the problems in my head.
One of the things I’ve been hoping for on this journey is to unplug a little from some of the issues in our world that have been really messing with my head… but inevitably when in conversation with people from the US, some of these issues seep into our conversations (prepare for a rant!).
My thoughts at the moment which I know sadly, some of you will disagree with:
The rise of facism and authoritarianism is wrong and it’s wrong that white men horde power and dominate in every area of society. It is wrong that a small handful of billionaires own so much of this planet’s wealth and resources and that they get tax breaks when many cant afford food or healthcare. It is wrong to kill children, to bomb hospitals, to starve people to death and to block humanitarian aid. It is wrong that men kill women every single day in every single country of the world and no one seems to care enough to actually do anything about it. It is wrong that in some parts of the world people seem to care more about their guns than their children. It is wrong to stigmatise gay people. It is wrong that our beautiful earth is constantly destroyed for profit. It is wrong to ban books just because you don’t agree with ideas held inside them and it is wrong to erase or distort history. It is wrong that a morally bankrupt convicted felon is able to hold the most powerful position in the world… and that as he tests the waters of dictatorship, he defies the Supreme Court, pushes to send people to concentration camps, uses racism to gain power, scapegoats the vulnerable to keep the majority afraid and angry, mocks the weak and uses his power waging petty vendettas, exalts himself and preys on the innocent. Win at all costs. Cruelty and corruption seem to be the flavour of the day and it’s making me cynical and despondent… and I’m kind of obsessing. And what makes it all so much worse is that so much of it is done under the guise of Christianity… using Scripture to justify bigotry, when most of these things are in direct contradiction to the teachings of Jesus.
And yes- Im woke! Woke to me means awakened by compassion, guided by truth, committed to justice. I seek compassion for humanity as the people of the world have lived through enough cruelty, violence and war. And as Pope Leo XIV said, “To be called “woke’ in a world that sleeps through suffering is not an insult, it’s the gospel”. Mercy isn’t ’woke leftism’. It’s literally the gospel of Jesus. Denying mercy is Antichrist.
And I think that we were never meant to know about all this stuff happening everywhere all at once. I don’t think we were built for this much information. We were never meant to wake up and immediately scroll through war zones, natural disasters and political madness. It’s not normal (although it kind of is now… but shouldn’t be). I don’t believe we were designed to carry the grief of the whole world in our minds or bodies… and yet sometimes that’s how I feel. We’ve got the weight of billions beamed directly into our faces 24/7 through our phones or TVs. It burns you out. It numbs you. Or worse- it makes us think that this chaos and cruelty is normal. And makes me cynical and despondent… makes me feel helpless… and hopeless, when I know that I need to try to lean towards hope and empowerment instead of despair… to focus on what is right with the world. I will not allow the steady maddening onslaught of insanity to wear down my humanity. I will keep knowing the truth, my truth… keep telling the truth. I will try to do my small part every damn day to stay human, to stay awake and tender, so that the world does not wear away at my humanity.
And I do still regularly “think to myself what a wonderful world”, but it’s been getting more difficult… so this trip will I hope, be a big reminder. And apparently looking at the sea for just 5 minutes has a calming effect equivalent to a week of therapy…it serves as medicine to many. So I’m in the right place. And it’s part of why we chose to walk mostly the coastal route on our journey to Santiago de Compostela. There is just something about the ocean…
… refreshing, renewing, calming and awakening. And I feel and smell the salt in the air and the wind on my skin and gaze at the grey muted line of the horizon allowing my mind to wander and peace to come.
Continuing onward after the girls leave us, the path remains much the same as before… boardwalks and wildflowers, endless coastline, blustery seas. I think I have forgotten to mention earlier the wildflowers that have so wonderfully surrounded us all day lining the boardwalks. Orange nasturtiums, yellow and white daisies of many kinds, purple lobelia, something that looks like Queen Anne’s lace and others like large pig face flowers… there are foxgloves and huge areas of wild pink roses… hydrangeas and so many others that I didn’t have a clue what they are. Abundant beauty surrounds us.
There are a few weird and wonderful and arty things as well we happen across as we walk…
… we met up with Bethan once again at this place she was exploring… not sure what it was but it felt a bit witchy.
Near the end of the day, the Camino turned inland a bit, and we found our way to the town of Mindelo where we are staying tonight at the On the Way guesthouse… which turns out to be just perfection. Our hostess Ana was just beautiful and friendly and went out of her way to make sure everything was just perfect- right down to chocolates and freshly brewed herbal tea. She recommended a fab family run restaurant for dinner which was close by and served delicious BBQ fish again and lovely wine. And we were very ready for bed.
“Don’t be afraid of the path. Be afraid of not walking”- Paulo Coelho
Day 1
Pretty much every single time I told anyone that my holiday in Europe would revolve around walking 300ish kms from Portugal into Spain, they looked at me like I was completely insane. “Just why?” “That’s not a holiday”… and different versions of the same sentiment. But “Rust out or wear out”- my osteopath once told me. And If I have to choose, it’s definitely going to be to wear out.
It was actually my mum who planted the first seeds for me walking the Camino. She said she could really imagine me doing and enjoying it, as I was “my father’s daughter”….adventurous like him. I didn’t even know what the Camino was, and so I watched the wonderful 2010 Martin Sheen movie “The Way” that had exploded the popularity of walking these sacred paths. And then I didn’t really think too much more about it for a few years… until it suddenly started calling me… and now I am answering.
And I do love to walk… regularly walking with Anne at home, stopping for food and wine along the way… as is our plan for the next few weeks. I love the sensation of peacefulness and exhilaration that comes with moving my body forward, rather than hopping into a fuel-burning car. I feel strong, energised and empowered that I am still able to do this. But with my body starting to regularly let me down, now is the moment. Or maybe it would never happen.
But it’s about much more than walking. Yes- it’s a challenge to my mind and body… about endurance and resilience. But it is considered a pilgrimage and the best definition I could find defines pilgimage as “a journey often into an unknown or foreign place, where a person goes in search of a new, or expanded meaning about self, others, nature, or a higher purpose found through the experience. It can lead to a personal transformation or healing, after which, the pilgrim returns to their daily life with profound wisdom.” Sounds profound… and hopefully it will be.
It’s also about cultural immersion as we pass through diverse landscapes and historical sites, giving us an opportunity to experience Portuguese and Spanish culture and history.
And perhaps most importantly, it’s about connection… with God… connection with other adventurers we will meet along the way as the Camino fosters a strong sense of community among pilgrims, with shared experiences and mutual support … connection with my own heart, goals and desires… and connection with nature. Combining my love of walking with my love for getting out in nature… experiencing the awe, happiness and connection that nature brings… breathing in the beauty of God’s creation, away from life’s demands and lose myself in the present moment for a while. And whatever it ends up offering, I will try to have an open heart to all the experiences and encounters that await me while walking the Way.
So, what is the Camino… for those of you who don’t know? The Camino de Santiago (aka The Way of St James) is an interconnected network of ancient pilgrimage routes stretching across Europe leading to the Cathedral of St James in Santiago de Compostela, where the remains of St James are said to be buried. Since the 9th century, millions of seekers, adventurers and pilgrims have walked these routes from all over Europe to Santiago.
Of the many available routes, we have decided on a combination of the three Portuguese routes starting in Porto… much of the time we will hug the Atlantic coast of Northern Portugal… think white sands, crystal clear waters, stunning blue skies and beautiful fishing towns. And while many pilgrims walk this route in 10ish days, seeking the physical challenge… wanting to conquer it the same way that some people want to climb Mt Everest… we were sure that we didn’t want to do it that way… to rush… that we wanted to enjoy the scenery… the gorgeous seafood and fresh produce… to stop and smell the roses… to notice the small miracles that we believe will be part of our Camino. And so, we are walking this route over three weeks… starting today.
So- I surrender to the journey and create space for whatever comes… accepting whatever “the Way” brings as part of my growth. Here’s to the journey, whatever it may be!
Day 1
Obviously we are beginning in Porto. We start at the cathedral, the official starting point for the obligatory photos, and we are off.
We stop for a quick fresh orange juice and pastel de nata. The weather is not wonderful but probably perfect for walking… it is quite cool as it has been most of the time since we arrived in Portugal. Apparently this is not the norm and we have not really been prepared for these cooler temperatures. Perhaps now we may appreciate them.
Our first day was definitely city walking the entire time… mostly on cobbles… and we never fully left Porto. From the cathedral you walk down to the Ribeira district and follow the river all the way..
…until it meets the Atlantic Ocean.
And then, the rest of the day follows the coast for a relatively scenic route with plenty of bars and restaurants along the way… as well as a couple of lighthouses, forts, sculptures and some gorgeous flowering local trees.
We are wished “bon voyage” by an American man in a tour group… I know he meant “bom Camino” which is the greeting used for pilgrims walking through Portugal… mean “good Camino”… so it was a lovely moment… our first such greeting.
We are staying in Matosinhos, which is basically a suburb of Porto, on the coast. It’s right on the main port area and really is a big fishing town that brags about having the world’s best fish. We arrive exhausted and hungry just in time for lunch and go looking for some of that fish. And while there are many small restaurants along the streets with hot braziers grilling the day’s catch, we venture to the actual fish market and find a small restaurant there. The host tries to send us to buy our own fish which they will then BBQ for us… but we are too exhausted and he offers to do it for us. We order wine while he purchases us a lovely sea bass, cooks it and debones it at our table. Combined with a rainbow salad which included blackberries and oranges… we were in heaven. Just what we needed.
We went to find our accomodation which turned out to be a gorgeous little inn with a very warm and friendly hostess and we collapsed on our beautifully comfortable beds.
I spent some time blogging while Anne rested and eventually couldn’t keep my eyes opened and succumbed to a little nap. Woke a while later and decided to venture out into town where we had been told was a celebration for the Feast of the Lord of Matosinhos… including a market, rides and lots of street food. Anne was pretty much still non compos mentis so I wandered out alone and found a HUGE market with all sorts of yummy local street food. I noticed a long line up and watched the girls making, kneading and rolling dough… adding chorizo and cheese and then rolling them up like a sausage roll. They then went into a large wood burning stove and came out looking delicious- so I joined the queue.
I think it was called a Pau artesanal com Chouriço and was quite yummy and all I needed for dinner.
Bought some lovely fresh cherries for Anne and headed home for much needed sleep.
And I think to myself what a wonderful world 