LIVE from the Camino HumanistHiker on the Camino Portuguese

[HumanistHiker]

Even before leaving my hostel in Porto this morning I'd enjoyed a couple of Camino chats over breakfast, both with Americans called John, one who had just finished the Camino Portugues, and one who was starting the Littoral today.

Having already collected my first credencial stamp at Porto Cathedral yesterday afternoon (before an evening of watching the sunset over the river from Gaia, eating bacalhao fishcakes, listening to talented buskers by the Douro, and a free nightcap of port wine in the hostel bar) I was ready to put trail runner to tarmac.

The initial stretch along the Douro reminded me very much of how I finished my last long walk, the Hadrian's Wall trail, the final days of which took me through Newcastle upon Tyne. Fine iron bridge - check; hilly city centre on the banks of a river - check; early morning boaties and the odd angler - check. The kittiwakes of Geordieland were replaced by more mundane gulls and screeching parakeets, Newcastle doesn't have the rattly old trams advertising port wine houses, and global warming has not yet brought plan trees to the banks of the Tyne, but the warm sunshine was the same.

Foz de Douro brought sights of bare chested over-muscled male joggers showing off their gym-honed pecs, and crashing Atlantic waves on the seawalls and rocky coves. Further north as I approached Matosinhos, the muscle-men gave way to dog-walkers and the rocky coves gave way to sandy beaches and surf schools.

I stopped for a credential stamp at the Matosinhos tourist information office which very helpfully has a scallop shell a metre wide painted on the wall saying "stamp here". John from Arkansas needn't have worried about where to obtain credencial stamps today! Well worth a stop, especially if you haven't booked accommodation as there was an extremely helpful lady who had lots of leaflets, albergue lists, recommendations of pilgrim menus and spoke perfect English.

A detour inland past the busy Leixoes Port where I'd watched green tugboats escorting a bulk tanker to its dock, large container ships (but no cruise ships at the round concrete Bond-villain-lair-esque cruise ship terminal) led to the market and drawbridge across the river. The cafes around the market were liberally plastered with the blue & yellow Camino logo and some offered menus do dia. Matosinhos advertises it has " the best fish in the world". Having eaten a big breakfast, I wasn't ready to test that claim, but the aroma which accompanied my walk around Matosinhos suggests at the very least it is the grilled sardine capital of Portugal, if not the whole world.

Heading north along the seafront, after a limonada and pastel de nata break in a coffee shop) in Leca de Palmeira, the first rusted metal Camino signs appeared as wooden boardwalk replaced tarmac underfoot. There were plenty of drinking fountains for filling water bottles, beach bars and cafes & even the odd public loo! A Canadian peregrina agreed with my "never turn down a loo stop opportunity, and always carry tissues" observations, before she strode on ahead with the aim of completing 30km today.

I kept catching sight of other peregrinos (2 pairs of German guys in hiking boots, one in each pair with a scallop shell, a couple in big sunhats) though didn't stop to chat, beyond wishing them the odd Bom Caminho on passing. It seems that walkers' paths weave in and out like a Celtic knotwork braid, sometimes them ahead, sometime me ahead, depending on when we stop for meals etc.

The final part of my walk today, after the Palmeira lighthouse, took me between delightful beaches with sunbathers and pounding surf to my left, and the less delightful sprawling oil refinery to my right. I made such good time I managed to overshoot my accommodation and had to turn back 500m. Doh! While right now I feel I could have gone further today, I suspect my hips and/or feet will be glad I called it a day after around 18km, and will thank me for it tomorrow. Time for a shower and to find a place for a grilled fish dinner ...

 

[Corned Beef]

Don't forget to order the vinho verde with your fish. Those charcoal barbeques in the street side restaurants seem to beckon you.

 

[Kev&Kath]

Even before leaving my hostel in Porto this morning I'd enjoyed a couple of Camino chats over breakfast, both with Americans called John, one who had just finished the Camino Portugues, and one who was starting the Littoral today.

Having already collected my first credencial stamp at Porto Cathedral yesterday afternoon (before an evening of watching the sunset over the river from Gaia, eating bacalhao fishcakes, listening to talented buskers by the Douro, and a free nightcap of port wine in the hostel bar) I was ready to put trail runner to tarmac.

The initial stretch along the Douro reminded me very much of how I finished my last long walk, the Hadrian's Wall trail, the final days of which took me through Newcastle upon Tyne. Fine iron bridge - check; hilly city centre on the banks of a river - check; early morning boaties and the odd angler - check. The kittiwakes of Geordieland were replaced by more mundane gulls and screeching parakeets, Newcastle doesn't have the rattly old trams advertising port wine houses, and global warming has not yet brought plan trees to the banks of the Tyne, but the warm sunshine was the same.

Foz de Douro brought sights of bare chested over-muscled male joggers showing off their gym-honed pecs, and crashing Atlantic waves on the seawalls and rocky coves. Further north as I approached Matosinhos, the muscle-men gave way to dog-walkers and the rocky coves gave way to sandy beaches and surf schools.

I stopped for a credential stamp at the Matosinhos tourist information office which very helpfully has a scallop shell a metre wide painted on the wall saying "stamp here". John from Arkansas needn't have worried about where to obtain credencial stamps today! Well worth a stop, especially if you haven't booked accommodation as there was an extremely helpful lady who had lots of leaflets, albergue lists, recommendations of pilgrim menus and spoke perfect English.

A detour inland past the busy Leixoes Port where I'd watched green tugboats escorting a bulk tanker to its dock, large container ships (but no cruise ships at the round concrete Bond-villain-lair-esque cruise ship terminal) led to the market and drawbridge across the river. The cafes around the market were liberally plastered with the blue & yellow Camino logo and some offered menus do dia. Matosinhos advertises it has " the best fish in the world". Having eaten a big breakfast, I wasn't ready to test that claim, but the aroma which accompanied my walk around Matosinhos suggests at the very least it is the grilled sardine capital of Portugal, if not the whole world.

Heading north along the seafront, after a limonada and pastel de nata break in a coffee shop) in Leca de Palmeira, the first rusted metal Camino signs appeared as wooden boardwalk replaced tarmac underfoot. There were plenty of drinking fountains for filling water bottles, beach bars and cafes & even the odd public loo! A Canadian peregrina agreed with my "never turn down a loo stop opportunity, and always carry tissues" observations, before she strode on ahead with the aim of completing 30km today.

I kept catching sight of other peregrinos (2 pairs of German guys in hiking boots, one in each pair with a scallop shell, a couple in big sunhats) though didn't stop to chat, beyond wishing them the odd Bom Caminho on passing. It seems that walkers' paths weave in and out like a Celtic knotwork braid, sometimes them ahead, sometime me ahead, depending on when we stop for meals etc.

The final part of my walk today, after the Palmeira lighthouse, took me between delightful beaches with sunbathers and pounding surf to my left, and the less delightful sprawling oil refinery to my right. I made such good time I managed to overshoot my accommodation and had to turn back 500m. Doh! While right now I feel I could have gone further today, I suspect my hips and/or feet will be glad I called it a day after around 18km, and will thank me for it tomorrow. Time for a shower and to find a place for a grilled fish dinner ...

Thank you so much for a great description of Day 1. Will be following your pilgrimage with great interest! Buen Camino.

 

[HumanistHiker]

I did indeed order vinho verde with my fish last night - the restaurant had half bottles which suits me. One glass is a little mean, a whole bottle is too much, and in the absence of the 250ml carafes of house wine which are pleasingly common in France and just right, a half bottle had to do.

I hiked with company for most of today - I'm sure companionship on the trail takes one's mind off the state of one's feet! My guesthouse didn't offer breakfast so I hit the Camino on an empty stomach save for a preventative sachet of rehydration solution in water. A top travel tip I was given a few years ago for travel in the heat was to have a daily Dioralyte or similar, rather than waiting for the onset of heat exhaustion (which I've had a few times and is no fun).

I soon found myself keeping pace with a couple from Seattle, veterans of the Camino Frances. I was a little alarmed at his report that Pilbeo had been seen at around 7.30 am when I had brought my bag down to be collected at 7.45, so was preparing to be luggage-less this evening. After about 90 minutes we reached the lobster pots, nets, boats and hopeful felines of Angeiras and decided it was breakfast time. They went on ahead while I found a bakery for my first cafe com leite and extremely yellow sweet croissant of the trip.

After ambling further up the coast I stopped at a Camino souvenir shop (big blue & yellow sign in the window, on the right hand side of the road) for a credential stamp and camino fridge magnet gift (compostelas proudly framed & displayed on the shop wall). A shoes & socks off break on a shady bench for 15 minutes & I was ready for Vila Cha.

Spotting a peregrina with a dark blue osprey backpack, I asked if she was CaminoDebrita. She wasn't, but we got chatting and enjoyed a most agreeable day walking together to Vila do Conde. For those cyclists who ignored the signs not to cycle on the boardwalks, penance came in the form of sections of broken boardwalk requiring a trudge through the sand. My few words of Portuguese (crammed in a few weeks on Memrise) helped when we decided to stop for lunch on the edge of Vila do Conde. The menu do dia was not the finest gastronomy, but the soup (presumably the "hot green" being cabbagey in colour & flavour, though topped with strips of ham as if to ward off vegetarians) pork chops & chips didn't break the bank. My fellow peregrina ordered dessert, so I decided to join her for a surprisingly good little apple tart & ice cream (rude not to, and while Memrise doesn't actually include "what do you mean, you don't want pudding" I'm led to believe that is the general Portuguese approach to meals!)

Just next to the restaurant was a sign outside the nice little Saint Sebastian chapel advertising pilgrim stamps. Although we had only just obtained stamps at the restaurant, we went in for another stamp. As an archer, if I'm going to get a stamp in any church, Saint Sebastian's would seem the most apt.

We headed across the bridge to potter around Vila do Conde, along the waterfront, up a shady side street (coastal sea breeze has been very welcome in the heat today) and as far as the impressive aqueduct. The Santa Clara convent is being converted onto a posh hotel, the church was being used for a wedding, so we had to content ourselves with popping into St Francis next door. Their Christmas crib figurines were on display behind glass - a particularly impressive number of sheep accompanying their shepherds. Perhaps those wishing to donate or sponsor a figure in the past ended up with a sheep, once the one baby Jesus, 3 kings etc had all been provided ...

As our Vila do Conde accommodation lay at opposite sides of the town, J & I said our goodbyes. I retraced my steps with a detour into the farmacia just south of the bridge for more rehydration salts before heading to the southern edge of town. The farmacia had the most impressive range of Compeed products I've ever seen, clearly catering to a Camino clientele.

I checked in at my guesthouse where my luggage was waiting for me (phew). Not wanting a big meal I made it as far as Nossa Senhora de Fatima bakery, inflicting my few words of Portuguese on the shop assistants in search of a savoury snack for dinner. Fortunately the young man understood what I was after, and I left with a chourico bread twist to wash down with a Super Bock from the honesty fridge at the guest house.

So far so good - I don't even mind having to retrace a few steps north tomorrow, having enjoyed companionship on the Camino today.

 

[HumanistHiker]

Although I have only walked around 15km today, Sao Pedro de Rates feels a very long way from Vila do Conde.

I have exchanged the touristical seaside Portugal of Vila do Conde (with its sandy beaches, surf schools and ships and early morning MAMILs on bicycles) for rural Portugal with post-harvest maize fields, shrivelled grapes on withered vines, tractors and the odd cow-filled barn. The aromas of grilled sardines from Matosinhos have been replaced with silage (from the cattle farms) and rather more pungently, the muckspreaders being towed behind tractors, and for the briefest of breaths, hot pine from a grove of trees. For a while between Touguinha and Junqueira I was trying to decide if I had swapped the sardine capital of Portugal for the DIY capital (given the number of paint & building supplies shops) or the muckspreading capital. I'm just glad that Farmer Joao did not start to "fling it here, fling it there", as the song goes, when I walked past.

Today was never going to be the highlight of my camino, being the cut across from the Littoral to the Central route, rather then "Camino proper". Although the helpful lady in the Matosinhos tourist office had suggested cutting across fro Povoa de Varzim, I took what the Stingy Nomads bloggers called the river route. The tourist office in Vila do Conde being closed today (silly me, expecting a tourist office to be open on a Saturday) I thought it safest to stick to a route for which I had directions and the nice dark blue line on mapy.cz to follow as I was unable to pick up a map of the route from Povoa de Varzim. There were just about enough yellow arrows, but I had to look quite hard for them and was glad of the assistance from my phone (much as it pains me to admit it!)

Today has been VERY hot - while I don't believe the 36°C shown on a pharmacy sign, 30°C would be plausible. The hike alone along country roads, sometimes pavements (sidewalks for our friends on the other side of the pond) has been an exercise in just putting one foot in front of the other and plodding along. Fewer peregrinos, apart from a French couple I kept seeing, until Arcos, where the signs advertising pilgrim accommodation started and a variety of non-Portuguese voices were heard in the cafe. I wouldn't want to walk the route in the dark or poor visibility, but (given its historically less than stellar road safety record compared to other European countries) Portuguese driving standards have been a pleasant surprise. So far, drivers here do seem to be awake & paying attention more than back in Blighty (especially weekend drivers at home).

Unlike on the Littoral, there were no drinking fountains, so today's discovery has been Frize Limao (a lemon flavoured sparkling water with sweeteners). I have a feeling this will become my "official drink of the Camino", just as Orangina is my French holiday soft drink, and in India it is nimbu pani (soda water with fresh lime juice and a little sugar or salt). Perhaps the Portuguese Camino needs some enterprising Goans to introduce nimbu pani here!

After the very modern (electronic locks, fancy coffee machine & briskly efficient German receptionist) Casa Sonia last night, today's accommodation is Casa Mattos, a "casa rural". I ventured through the gate into a courtyard cum smallholding, with trees and extensive vegetable gardens & greenhouse, shouting "Ola" until la senhora emerged from the house and I tried to explain in my minimal Portuguese that I had a reservation. I had to resort to Google translate and pointing at my bag that was waiting just inside as she hunted in the reservation book for notes made by her husband. My blissfully cool room (probably due to thick stone walls as I see no evidence of aircon) has antique furniture, a rather peculiar shower over small square foot-deep trough arrangement (that would arguably be perfect for soaking tired pilgrim feet as the edge is wide enough to sit on, and only takes cash. The brass key looks like a prop from a real life escape room game.

I'm now chilling out before my stomach eventually demands attention and I have to venture out in search of dinner.

 

[HumanistHiker]

I must confess to being slightly disappointed that breakfast at Casa Mattos was not a lavish farmhouse spread, given the extensive kitchen garden. Still, white rolls with a choice of honey, shop bought jam, quince mermelada or Dairylea type processed cheese meant I didn't leave with an empty stomach, and the coffee was plentiful.

I was on the trail by 8 am, enjoying the early morning freshness. The soundtrack for today was crowing cockerels (I would have been disappointed, heading to Barcelos if there had not been crowing cockerels), barking dogs, motorcycles and the odd church bell. Motorcycles were either old guys on small bikes & scooters, often 2 stroke, or younger people on more modern powerful sportier machines, with the odd foreign tourist on the 2-wheeled Bavarian Chelsea tractor (BMW GS). There was one battery powered scooter, the number plate on which announced its status as a "velocipede elettrico" (a wonderfully steampunk term for what in the UK might be described more prosaically as an "e-bike").

Today's Camino was a walk of two halves - a rural, often wooded initial section, with annoying flies buzzing me and signs advertising which maize seed variety had been planted in farmers' fields, followed by the more built up approach to the Barcelos urban sprawl, where the adverts were for albergues and restaurants serving a menu peregrino.

One advantage of more built up areas is the presence of bus shelters - the ideal spot to sit down, take off shoes & sweaty socks & air one's feet, and do a few leg stretches, twists & toe touches in the hope of preventing blisters & the onset of the dreaded plantar fasciitis. I was told by a serious long distance walker (Ursula " One Woman Walks" who hiked from Kyiv to Finisterra) that preventing foot pain is not just down to the state of one's feet but all the leg & back muscles, tendons etc) and that frequent stretching is a good idea. Fortunately Portuguese bus stops have proper flat benches, not the irritating sloping perches designed to stop people sleeping on them which are becoming common in the UK. Often there is shade as well.

While still very warm (we're still talking clammy shirt under backpack conditions), today has not been as oppressively hot as yesterday, so the walking has been easier. I have only needed one Frize Limao today, plus a lovely fresh squeezed orange juice in Courel. On seeing waymarkers indicating e.g. Santiago 205km my reaction has been "I can do this!" not "what on earth was I thinking, walking a Camino?" What a difference around 5°C makes!

I'm afraid if you want deep spiritual musings, you've come to the wrong trip report. My mind wanderings during my wanderings today touched on important questions such as:
- is there a Portuguese law which requires the inclusion of cabbage in all vegetable soup here, and/or the growing of leggy brassicas in all veg patches & allotments?
- who let the dogs out?
- what are the strange fruit that look like lemon-shaped persimmons hanging from shrubs in a lot of gardens?
- surely those aren't peppercorns on those bushes as they look a bit like the ones I saw in India?
- does the Barcelos area local authority pay people (or offer a discount off local taxes) to local residents who keep a rooster in their back yard, given how many I heard today?
- why does it take days to dry hand-washed socks & T-shirts when it is so hot?

I arrived in Barcelos around 1.15 pm so am just waiting to be able to check into my accommodation, before a shower, sock & T-shirt washing session & heading out in search of postcards, food and the sights of Barcelos.

 

[HumanistHiker]

Coming to you live from a hammock at Estabulo dos Valinhas, Vitorio dos Piaes ....

This is my favourite Camino accommodation so far, a little rural oasis of grape vines, deckchairs and an extremely warm welcome. You know how sometimes you arrive at a place to stay & just get a warm fuzzy feeling that this is a good place run by people who care about what they're doing - this is one of those places! The simple decor some of the popular-in-Portugal (including for urban Camino signs) rusty iron reminds me of a favourite Italian holiday place. There's even an outdoor sink and extensive washing lines! The pilgrim menu will be served around 6 - nice & early which suits me having not had lunch.

I didn't have lunch as I was still running on Francesinha power from last night and a slightly healthier breakfast at the lovely Grava cycle cafe in Barcelos this morning (a must stop for bicigrinos). The Francesinha is the antithesis of the healthy Mediterranean diet, a kind of toasted sandwich involving lots of processed meat (ham, sausage, pulled pork in my case) covered in cheese & swimming in a tangy orange coloured sauce. Mine had a poached egg on top. If large quantities of beer were not involved in its creation, I expect they frequently precede its consumption. If there isn't already a Portuguese T-shirt with Homer Simpson on saying "Mmmm Francesinhas ..." there should be.

Today started well when I found a shop selling postcards & stamps (my best friend & family all still being postcard people). Sadly it was a few more km before I found a postbox to send them. Maybe the postboxes have gone into the same Portuguese black hole as locks on toilet cubicle doors and poop-scoops & bags for dog owners. While Portugal has less litter on the streets than the UK, one does have to watch where on puts one's feet (though encrottation levels are not as bad as Paris). As for the toilet cubicles, is there a traditional Portuguese folk song that all girls are taught at school to sing or whistle to indicate that the cubicle is occupied? "escute-me, estou fazendo um xixi, nao venha aqui ..."? Maybe that was the tune being played by the accordion-infused folk music groups battling it out for people's attention behind the Bom Jesus de la Cruz church in Barcelos yesterday evening..

Although today was my longest distance so far, 21 km or so, it was not the hardest. Temperatures were a smidgen cooler and there were even a few clouds. There were a few more hills today but nothing too tough. For those who dislike Portuguese cobbles, the bad news is they are still installing new ones as part of road construction & repair.

Today I came to understand why metal-tipped trekking poles get people so worked up, being followed at one point by someone using them. I must confess, however, to being glad of Senhor Clicky-stick at one point, on approaching a large dog in the road. I was happy to let him go in front, just in case ...I'm not a dog person, but fortunately this one couldn't be bothered to get up and make a fuss, unlike the one in Sao Pedro de Rates which hurled itself at (but not over, phew) the metal gate of the yard it was in in a frenzy of barking. From the floppy black ears flying up, I would guess it had put the spring in springer spaniel!

This morning my only real company was the annoying flies that kept buzzing me, landing on my face, arms & hat & taking no notice of the Incognito spray. Just as long as the blighters weren't biters (unlike the mosquitoes which chomped on my arm and back a couple of days ago) I should be OK.

This afternoon I had more delightful company in the form of M from Quebec, a very chatty solo peregrina, whose path I crossed after collecting a stamp at Sao Martinho church in Balugaes. While the attractive, if dinky, Romanesque church was closed, the stamp was chained to a grille at the front so you could use it. There was even a sign before the side turning to the church saying there was a stamp. M and I were both staying in the same village, though different lodgings, and walked happily together. She asked my views on "our king", and explained that Portugal is safer than Canada for solo hiking given the absence of cougars, bears and even viciously territorial owls on the camino! I'd be very happy to walk with her tomorrow if we both leave for Ponte de Lima at the same time (if I can tear myself out of this hammock). We certainly won't run out of things to say as she gave me a run for my money in the talking hind legs off donkey stakes!

 

[ElCee]

Don't forget to order the vinho verde with your fish. Those charcoal barbeques in the street side restaurants seem to beckon you.

We had a fabulous lunch at one of those side street grills 5 days ago! The little clams were fantastic. Tasquinha Porto de Leixoes, 50 R. Conde Sao Salvador. Lovely family.

 

[HumanistHiker]

Today did not get off to the best of starts. I couldn't find my pilgrim passport & guidebook, last seen in the hammock before dinner. My suspicion was that they had been bundled up in it when the hammock was packed up while my fellow peregrinos and I were tucking into our spaghetti. (Individual rooms with en suite bathrooms and a communal dinner - the perfect combination in my book!) After emptying my luggage, one last search round the grounds, and then texting the accommodation owner, I decided to head around 1km up the road to the village cafe, as whatever else happens, I needed breakfast.

The 1st km was the finest walking so far. Mist over the valleys, an autumnal freshness in the air, beautiful views of the woods and vineyards. I decided that even if the accommodation owner found my lost property, retracing my steps would be no hardship, especially as I was only planning a 14km day. The phone call with the good news that my book and credencial had been found came mid-coffee so I went back to rescue them.

The scenery this morning was beautiful and the weather until about 12.30 was perfect for walking. There were quite a few other pilgrims on this section, solos, pairs, threes and a large group. Cats outnumbered dogs, much to my relief (though there was a slightly yappy snappy one with the canine equivalent of a Napoleon complex, throwing his negligible weight around somewhere around Facha).

On another thread someone has commented about European km and North American km seeming different. The last km today as I came into Ponte do Lima felt like at least 3 as it was hot and my hostel was up a hill. Oldvillage hostel is no rural idyll (being above a tyre shop) but the welcome was as warm as last night's. After a shower (using the Aromas Portugal shower gel from my Barcelos accommodation, which is fortunately generic spicy/herby scent not grilled sardine with farmyard manure, base notes of two stroke oil & a hint of pine) I was ready to potter round Ponte de Lima. I'm now tucking into a cheeseboard (some of which may end up being taken home in a doggy bag for tomorrow's lunch) and glass of vinho verde with a view of the town's namesake bridge. The wine is going to my head, not helped by my discovery of a specialist mead and honey shop nwarby, and a few samples of assorted honey alcohols on an empty stomach. An early night beckons.

 

[HumanistHiker]

Today I walked the "hello again" stage of the Central Portuguese Camino. One week in, familiar faces are appearing more frequently, and new temporary hiking buddies are being discovered & re-met. My luck was in today, when it came to quality conversation as well as quality scenery.

This morning at breakfast in the hostel my only fellow diner was a passionate Uruguayan (I asked about the flag tied to his rucksack) on his 17th camino. Not only a true Camino addict but a pastelegrino (he mentioned having had multiple pasteis de nata for breakfast the other day). Now living in a town on a Camino in Galicia, he was the sort of warm-hearted, engaged, interested & interesting person I hoped to encounter on my walk. Our conversation was conducted in a mishmash of Spanish, Italian, my few words of Portuguese & if all else failed, English. He was a real advocate for the camaraderie of albergue life, and reckoned I would fit right in there and enjoy the company. The secret of success for sleeping in snorerville, according to him, is one beer & earplugs. I've been following the thread on "Depth on the Camino" and our conversation touched briefly on what is meant by spirituality, in a way that got me thinking.

He left the hostel just before me so I headed out alone just before 8. It was not long out of Ponte de Lima that I recognised two French couples from just outside Sao Pedro de Rates, and I got to practice my French. One of them picked up a windfall orange from the road. When I mentioned the Quebequois lady I'd hiked with for an afternoon (who had a windfall or possibly scrumped lemon in her pocket) the response was "ah, M, we met her, she's great!"

The French in turn had "picked up" an Italian-born 70-something retired Swiss banker. He and I turned out to be a little quicker than the French group & went on ahead. As I work in financial services, that gave us another topic of discussion in common (which might have bored the sweaty socks off other walkers) along with the usual Camino talk, travel, food family etc. I was pleased with how my slightly rusty A-level French held up for a good couple of hours of chatter.

At the first trailside cafe we passed (fizzy lemon drink time for me), who should we meet but the Uruguayan from breakfast, who greeted the Swiss banker as an old friend. I can see how on the longer trails "Camino families" start to develop. I've met a few people on the camino now, who I would be delighted to walk with again, but if our paths never cross, I will savour our ephemeral encounters.

Today brought the highest ratio of dirt & countryside rocks to tarmac & urban cobblestones, much to the Swiss banker's relief. Much of the trail to the Rubiaies area was through woods, providing welcome shade as it has turned hot again. Today also brought more hill climbing than previous days - a chance to burn off some of the Portuguese cheese mountain from last night!

While there was the odd roadside tap or fountain, apart from the one right outside a pilgrim hostel, I have yet to see a sign saying "agua potable" since leaving the Littoral. Most either say the water has not been checked, or have no sign. I do hope the 3 Americans drinking the water from a plastic pipe/spring in the woods don't live to regret it!

I arrived at my accommodation around 1.30 - yay, another balcony for shirt & sock drying! I'm starting to think the whole leave before dawn peregrino culture is as much about maximising laundry drying time on arrival as avoiding walking in the heat or bed racing.

No evening meal where I'm staying, but they arrange a lift at 6pm to a nearby restaurant. I wonder which familiar faces I will see there? Maybe the 2 German women from Sao Pedro de Rates breakfast and again from Estabulo de Valinhas, as I've not run into them in the last 24 hours ...

 

[HumanistHiker]

After a hot and sociable walk yesterday, today's has been more grey & solitary, but I have still enjoyed it. Much to my surprise, and quite a few peregrinas' relief, Thursday dawned overcast & foggy and rather cool. For the first hour I even wore my waterproof jacket for warmth - the first time since arriving in Portugal it has been other than extra weight in my daypack. (As an English hiker, I could no more contemplate setting off on a day's walk without a waterproof jacket than I would contemplate setting off without feet, even over the last week of blazing temperatures, sun and blue skies!)

Much of today's walk felt like an English autumn ramble, with the combination of weather, trailside mushrooms, fallen oak leaves, shouty little robins and even a hint of that damp leaf mould autumn smell. Some of the forest (the bits without the eucalyptus trees with ribbons of peeling bark) could even have been an English woodland. I saw a few fellow walkers I'd chatted to before (more from England than on other days, as if we were all drawn to this British walk experience) but either walked on past cafes where they had stopped for coffee, or I took their "I'm just going to stop for a drink of water" hints to allow them to walk on alone after me.

Elderly farmers herding sheep through a village car park, and trying to drag home the lead goat on a rope in the hope its naughty caprine chums (who were keener to browse the trees) would follow, were more rural Portugal. I don't remember seeing any young people here driving tractors, herding livestock or working in the fields, veg patches & smallholdings. If the average age of a farmer in Portugal is less than 60 I'd be surprised.

Today was one of my shortest & easiest days walking so I arrived at my accommodation way too early to check in. Among the other lunching peregrinos, I saw my dining companion from last night (one of the disproportionate number of nurses or ex nurses on the Camino) at a table at the outside dining area. She tucked into some fine pork, I helped ensure no chips were left uneaten, and ordered a glass of white wine while dithering over the menu. Eventually I settled on a delicious rocket, burrata, pesto & sun dried tomato salad - by far the best meal so far in Portugal. I was craving some fresh greens after last night's fried bacalhau.

After lunch I retired to a hammock in the grounds of Quinta do Caminho, hoping not to be brained by the large acorns or chestnuts crashing to the ground from the trees between which the hammock was slung. The American term for the season "fall" is bang-on. They could do with some iberico black pigs here to hoover up the acorns & be turned into ham, although pigs would probably make too much of a mess of the nicely manicured grounds. This is by far the poshest place I've stayed on the Camino, and has more of a couples' romantic weekend getaway vibe than pilgrim lodgings.

By 3.30 the sun had finally come out and I braved a dip in the bracing-but-bearable swimming pool. Murphy's Law meant that the coolest day of the trip is when I've booked the one hotel with an outdoor pool. If Murphy's Law continues to apply over the border in Spain, expect Tuesday 10th to be a scorcher as that's when I'm staying in Caldas de Reis, with its hot springs!

Given that I'm normally endlessly planning & thinking ahead in everyday life and find it hard to just stop, I'm finding it surprisingly easy in my Camino afternoons & evenings to while away a few hours doing nothing in particular without getting bored. This has got to be a Good Thing!

I'm looking forward to a delicious dinner here this evening, provided I'm not knocked out by a plummeting persimmon from the tree between the pool and my room on the way back to change.

 

[HumanistHiker]

I hadn't expected anyone to chat to at dinner last night given my accommodation's clientele, but the Camino continues to provide a steady stream of nice Canadians. Last night it was 2 hungry bicigrinas, now heading back from Santiago to Porto. I was touched when one of them said I was their first "Camino friend" since cycling to Santiago meant they had whizzed past all the walkers and not seen the same person twice or been able to stop to chat. They were enjoying their return ride as, going against the flow, they could at least wish people "Buen Camino" as they faced them.

The food at Quinta do Camino was every bit as good last night as at lunchtime - just the right side of too cheffy. Feeling somewhat bacalhau'd-out after a week in Portugal I chose the duck dish, and a delicious if misleadingly titled dessert due to a menu mistranslation.

Today was my official lazy day. I didn't fancy a zero km rest day staying 2 nights in one place. Today's walk took me around 8 km along the Camino, but with some additional drunken spider loops within the old part of Valenca.

It was still grey & damp when I left at around 10, but the celestial infrared heat lamp switch was thrown by 11, and it soon became hot & sunny again.

A brownie point goes to Capela Nossa Senhor do Bonfim at Gandra in the burbs of Valenca, for being open & having a stamp for credencials. The stamp was to be used only once, said the notice on the table, adorned with Jesus stickers either side, as if to suggest that God would be watching any naughty pilgrim who dared to stamp twice! Very few churches and chapels that I've passed have been open, let alone had a stamp. Cafes and lodgings are a more reliable source of stamps.

I couldn't quite get my head round Valenca. On the one hand there is the quite well heeled modern lower part with useful businesses (supermarkets, banks, phone shops & opticians) - all perfectly normal. Then there is the hilltop citadel within the walls, where apart from the odd jeweller & restaurants, nearly every shop sells either Portuguese cockerel embroidered towels, bedding or clothes that look more like they would belong on a UK market stall. I can't quite work out why there is such a concentration in such a place. Still, there were good views from the city walls, looking across to Tui.

Then it was across the bridge to Spain, which felt like another Camino milestone after realising yesterday I was more than halfway to Santiago. Put my watch forward an hour & try to switch my brain from Portuguese to Spanish. I am now in the land of muchas gracias not obrigada.

As I suspected before the trip, the late Spanish lunchtime suits my stomach when walking. I was very glad to tuck into a 3 course menu del dia just after 3 pm on arriving in Tui. Padron peppers provided welcome greens, then chorizo, fried eggs & potatoes (to counteract the semi-healthy vegetable element). One of the desserts on offer was Tart Santiago - how could I resist, especially as I like almonds. (It was very marzipany in flavour & texture). All that, water & coffee for 10 Euros - bargain!

I much prefer Tui to Valencia. It feels livelier, and more purposeful in its tourism, being a popular starting point for Compostela seekers Pilgrim oriented shops sell hiking gear (including the cult ugly Hoka shoes favoured my many on this forum) & camino souvenirs. Plodding up the quiet streets from the Minho/Mino riverside towards the cathedral, with the late afternoon sun giving the stone buildings a warm golden glow, it wasn't hard to imagine pilgrims hundreds of years ago treading the same path.

Galicia being part of the Celtic fringe, one is not safe from the aural assault from bagpipes here. A little stage had been set up in the centre of Tui, with a succession of musical groups, all including at least one youth piper. As long as there isn't a Xunta rule (aimed at preserving distinctive Galician culture) requiring all musical ensembles to include a piper, I won't need to resort to albergue-snorer-grade earplugs for my daytime ramblings over the next week!

 

[HumanistHiker]

A pessimist can always be pleasantly surprised, and today I was by the walk from Tui to O Porrino.

My first pre-dawn start, due to a bad night's sleep. I think it was prickly heat, as I was pink & itchy & blotchy, and it wasn't (all) down to mosquito bites. I ended up soaking a towel in cold water and draping it over affected places, which helped a bit, having already tried an antihistamine tablet & hydrocortisone cream without much effect.

I ate breakfast in my hotel, and chatted to some Americans starting their Camino in Tui today. Blame stingy American annual leave allowances for 1 week Camino with some high mileage days. I was out the door before it was too hot, and very glad of my phone with an app showing the way, the yellow arrows not being evident in the dark.

I hadn't been looking forward to this section, having read it would be taking me into Galicia's industrial heartland. However the trail today was mostly an easy & pleasant woodland walk, generally flat, some tarmac but quite a lot of easy dirt paths, with little stone bridges crisscrossing streams. There was a little road walking, but many road sections had a crash barrier separating pedestrians from what little traffic was on the road. The key to success was turning left not right at a point where yellow camino arrows pointed both ways. I had taken a photo yesterday of the instructions in the Tui tourist office on how to find this alternative route bypassing the "poligono industrial" and was glad I did. The last few km reminded me very much of a favourite cycle path near my home, running through woods by a stream. Though you could hear road noise from a highway running parallel, you could also hear birdsong. Even the mix of dog walkers, runners & cyclists was like I'd see on a morning ride at home.

Other pleasant surprises were the lovely Xardin cafe (Galician Scrabble must have very different tile scores from English Scrabble, given the liberal use of the letter X here) and Guardia Civil with a car in the woods, handing out credencial stamps. I'm still trying to work out if the stamp given by the police officer translates as "pilgrims -beware!" (reminding us to take care of belongings & personal safety) or "beware of pilgrims" (aimed at the locals).

I was in O Porrino by around 12.30. While my feet could have taken me further today, I don't envy the 4 Americans from breakfast (and the tiny, fluffy & well-trained perrogrino trotting along beside one of them) heading for Redondela tonight.

 

[CaminoDebrita]

I hadn't expected anyone to chat to at dinner last night given my accommodation's clientele, but the Camino continues to provide a steady stream of nice Canadians. Last night it was 2 hungry bicigrinas, now heading back from Santiago to Porto. I was touched when one of them said I was their first "Camino friend" since cycling to Santiago meant they had whizzed past all the walkers and not seen the same person twice or been able to stop to chat. They were enjoying their return ride as, going against the flow, they could at least wish people "Buen Camino" as they faced them.

The food at Quinta do Camino was every bit as good last night as at lunchtime - just the right side of too cheffy. Feeling somewhat bacalhau'd-out after a week in Portugal I chose the duck dish, and a delicious if misleadingly titled dessert due to a menu mistranslation.

Today was my official lazy day. I didn't fancy a zero km rest day staying 2 nights in one place. Today's walk took me around 8 km along the Camino, but with some additional drunken spider loops within the old part of Valenca.

It was still grey & damp when I left at around 10, but the celestial infrared heat lamp switch was thrown by 11, and it soon became hot & sunny again.

A brownie point goes to Capela Nossa Senhor do Bonfim at Gandra in the burbs of Valenca, for being open & having a stamp for credencials. The stamp was to be used only once, said the notice on the table, adorned with Jesus stickers either side, as if to suggest that God would be watching any naughty pilgrim who dared to stamp twice! Very few churches and chapels that I've passed have been open, let alone had a stamp. Cafes and lodgings are a more reliable source of stamps.

I couldn't quite get my head round Valenca. On the one hand there is the quite well heeled modern lower part with useful businesses (supermarkets, banks, phone shops & opticians) - all perfectly normal. Then there is the hilltop citadel within the walls, where apart from the odd jeweller & restaurants, nearly every shop sells either Portuguese cockerel embroidered towels, bedding or clothes that look more like they would belong on a UK market stall. I can't quite work out why there is such a concentration in such a place. Still, there were good views from the city walls, looking across to Tui.

Then it was across the bridge to Spain, which felt like another Camino milestone after realising yesterday I was more than halfway to Santiago. Put my watch forward an hour & try to switch my brain from Portuguese to Spanish. I am now in the land of muchas gracias not obrigada.

As I suspected before the trip, the late Spanish lunchtime suits my stomach when walking. I was very glad to tuck into a 3 course menu del dia just after 3 pm on arriving in Tui. Padron peppers provided welcome greens, then chorizo, fried eggs & potatoes (to counteract the semi-healthy vegetable element). One of the desserts on offer was Tart Santiago - how could I resist, especially as I like almonds. (It was very marzipany in flavour & texture). All that, water & coffee for 10 Euros - bargain!

I much prefer Tui to Valencia. It feels livelier, and more purposeful in its tourism, being a popular starting point for Compostela seekers Pilgrim oriented shops sell hiking gear (including the cult ugly Hoka shoes favoured my many on this forum) & camino souvenirs. Plodding up the quiet streets from the Minho/Mino riverside towards the cathedral, with the late afternoon sun giving the stone buildings a warm golden glow, it wasn't hard to imagine pilgrims hundreds of years ago treading the same path.

Galicia being part of the Celtic fringe, one is not safe from the aural assault from bagpipes here. A little stage had been set up in the centre of Tui, with a succession of musical groups, all including at least one youth piper. As long as there isn't a Xunta rule (aimed at preserving distinctive Galician culture) requiring all musical ensembles to include a piper, I won't need to resort to albergue-snorer-grade earplugs for my daytime ramblings over the next week!

The aural assault....ha ha ha! your writing is good. So good!

 

[HumanistHiker]

Yesterday evening was the first time I'd really rather have been in an albergue, surrounded by other peregrinos, as I felt quite alone in O Porrino. It is very much a "local town for local people" to which the Camino feels more or less an irrelevance, give or take the odd albergue. I did the "paseo" ambling around town a couple of times in the evening in the hope of seeing a "Camino friend" to no avail.

When I came to leave my accommodation this morning I saw a familiar pink suitcase waiting to be collected from the reception area, which I recognised as belonging to one of the Canadians who I'd met in Estabulo do Valinhas and bumped into at least twice since then. So not only were Camino friends in town, they were in the same building without me knowing until it was too late. Drat! Not having WhatsApp (as I want nothing to do with products of the Meta/Facebook evil empire) I suspect I may be cut off from some of the Camino networking.

The journey out of O Porrino was what I expected of this area, out of town supermarkets, busy main roads & roundabouts, granite slab walls round people's front yards. The architecture & local stone made me think it would be particularly bleak & depressing on a cold rainy day. There were a worrying number of missing dog posters, as if the Ameirolongo - Veigadana area is the dognapping capital of Galicia.

Things improved after around 3 km, not long after passing the first waymarker saying less than 100km to Santiago. I agree with the Wise Pilgrim guidebook author that Mos is "one of the understated gems along this stretch of the Camino". If I was going to re-do the stage from Tui, I'd walk further to stay in Mos instead of O Porrino. Mos had cafes, an albergue, a pilgrim gift shop, and more pleasing scenery than the industry & busy roads round O Porrino. The little square by the Mos albergue was pretty, more golden stone, less grim, grey granite.

I couldn't work out from where the amplified music which I heard for several km as I climbed up the hill from Mos was coming. Mos church? But it didn't sound like a Sunday service. A fiesta? An antisocial peregrino with a boombox in his backpack? It set the tone for a noisy day, as I discovered my Redondela ground floor apartment has no aircon, so the windows are open a crack for fresh air and to hear every passerby, and it is very close to Redondela church. This has a lovely stained glass rose window with scallop shells design, but frequent clanging bells. Whereas some of the Portuguese churches I walked past had quite tuneful carillons, Redondela's bells have less pizzazz, more plain old ding-dong. Maybe this is the Camino's way of saying serves you right, albergue-dodger, thinking you'd get a quiet night by booking private rooms!

The scents were better than the sounds today - a hint of fenugreek from wayside shrubs, hot pine from the woods (there being more pines & fewer eucalyptus than in Portugal), and even (after discovering a launderette right on the Camino on the way into town) my favourite hiking shirt & socks now smelling fresh!

While I've not had any particularly long or meaningful chats today, the number of nationalities I've encountered on the Camino has gone up. Overhearing a Spanish conversation at a cafe drink stop, I realised the lively group had to be Latin American not Iberian as I was able to follow a lot of what was being said. I've often caught more of the gist of what e.g. Mexicans, Chileans or Colombians on TV say than Spaniards, where my very rusty GCSE struggles to keep up with the pace and running of one word into another. When the discussion turned from the best tortillas to the availability or otherwise of Estrella Galicia beer in Cali, I guessed they were Colombian. This was confirmed by one who kindly took my photo as we started down the hill towards Redondela. His friends were slower (probably due to the number of group photos they were taking en route). A downside (or given my frequent awful grimace when I know I'm being photographed, possibly upside) of solo travel is fewer photos that include me as well as the scenery.

Sitting outside an ice cream shop later, I met my first Korean peregrinos. C, having lived in the Canary Islands, spoke far more Spanish than me, and translated for S, whose Spanish & English were as negligible as my Korean. C rated the scenery of the Camino Primitivo from Oviedo above that of the Portugues. The company was better than the ice cream.

Once again I took advantage of late Spanish lunchtime for a tasty pork meal. Does the importance of pork and jamon in Spanish cuisine date back to the Catholic kings & queens of the middle ages? After kicking the pork-shunning Arabs & Jews out of Spain, was eating pork with enthusiasm seen as a way of asserting a very specifically Christian Spanish identity? My knowledge of history in general, Spanish history in particular, is pretty woeful (I had school history teachers who did a fine job of putting me off the subject) so I'm very happy to be corrected/educated by more knowledgeable forumites. Enough idle speculation for now ...

 

[HumanistHiker]

Leaving Redondela today, I got the feeling of being fresh peregrino meat being funnelled into the great Camino tourism sausage machine. I can understand why folks who have walked one of the popular Caminos decide to go for one of the wilder, more rugged & less popular routes for their next Camino.

Now I'm on the home straight, there are a lot more walkers and a lot more enterprising locals trying to earn their share of the pilgrim pound/Euro. It is bizarre that having around 70 km left to walk feels like the home straight, but something about the camino plays havoc with my sense of space and time and having walked 200km already, the end is drawing near. Sometimes the milestones make it seem like no progress is being made ("I could have sworn the last 3 had the same number of km on") and sometimes I've thought "where have the last 5km gone - I can't have only x km left". Maybe the concentrated mass of all those peregrinos, their backpacks, and the menus del dia and Estrella Galicia they have consumed are warping the fabric of spacetime round here.

I passed at least 4 little stalls set up at the side of the trail between Redondela and Pontevedra today. Most sold Camino souvenirs e.g. scallop shells, wristbands, in one case hand made leather ones, but more often colourful festival style cloth ones. These seem to end up tied to the various memory trees & signposts along the way as sentimental camino litter/graffiti, along with stickers from home. My favourite vendor had set up a straw bale seating area under some trees and had pastries, snack bars and coolers with soft drinks (fizzy lemon time for me) and even a bin for empties. If only one bright spark would hire a portaloo, bring it to the trailside and charge e.g. 50 cents or even a Euro to spend a penny, he or she would earn a gold star from me (or at least a Galicia star) and there would be fewer tissues in the undergrowth. As the enterprising locals all offer sellos, the danger is not failing to meet the 2 stamps a day requirement but running out of room in one's credencial. If someone did set up the aseos de Camino, they would have to offer a stamp of a squatting pilgrim like a Catalan cagagner!

If I measured Portugal days by the number of Frize Limaos, Galicia days appear to have a big hill count. Yesterday to Redondela was a one big hill day, today was 2 (one before Arcade, one after). I haven't dared check out elevation profiles for tomorrow as it is already planned to be my my highest km day of the whole Camino. Ultreia et suseia (as I've heard no-one say on the Camino, somewhat to my disappointment).

As well as bumping into yesterday's Colombians again, I finally met other Camino forumites in real life this afternoon. I took the alternative route from O Pobo/Santa Marta (left for the riverside route instead of right along the road). I was dithering at a tree marked with yellow arrows pointing left & right. So was an American couple, and when a first name was mentioned I asked if they were forumites with whom I'd exchanged messages about meeting up, when I realised they were in the same town. Hoping we can get together in Santiago at the end of the week.

I checked in at my accommodation and washed my long sleeve baggy top which has become my favourite hiking shirt (long sleeves means less of me has to be plastered with suncream). The Hostal Peregrino prohibits the hanging of laundry on furniture in the room but provides washing lines, a big basket of clothes pegs and a washing machine & dryer on a covered terrace.

I headed into town. Pontevedra is a proper bustling big city. After a late lunch, I popped into a pharmacy for more mosquito repellant, being nearly out. I'm not sure what it says about the respective nations' priorities that whereas in Francophone Europe, when all other shops are closed you are likely to find a bakery still open, in Portugal & Spain it is the pharmacies which are open when nowhere else is.

I found an excellent ice cream shop in the middle of Pontevedra called Stromboli. The pistachio gelato was as good as I've had in Italy. After @CaminoDebrita's post the other day, I had to go for the mango as well, which actually tasted of real mango. Maybe I do need a 3 big hill day tomorrow to burn it off!

 

[CaminoDebrita]

MMMM it's dinner time. You've got me thinking ice cream dessert again! I've become very unadventurous in this heat, and eat mostly bread, cheese, and ham. I may try something more interesting tonight. I'm in Caminha, and taking a rest day tomorrow. I really need it. Your analogy of being pilgrim meat being made into the great commercial sausage was great! I'll be back and write more later. Congrats on making it so far. Every day I battle with myself to continue, as dropping the ladder on one foot a few weeks before setting out and the other foot having an ingrown toenail is making me a bit grumpy! I'm still in the game!

 

[HumanistHiker]

No wonder you're finding it tough, setting off with 2 injured/sore feet, and in this heat as well. Well done for making it to Caminha.

If you're devoid of culinary inspiration, craving sweet things & still in Portugal, um pastel de nata could be a no brainer if you can't find a nice ice cream shop!

 

[jalluisi]

Leaving Redondela today, I got the feeling of being fresh peregrino meat being funnelled into the great Camino tourism sausage machine. I can understand why folks who have walked one of the popular Caminos decide to go for one of the wilder, more rugged & less popular routes for their next Camino.

Now I'm on the home straight, there are a lot more walkers and a lot more enterprising locals trying to earn their share of the pilgrim pound/Euro. It is bizarre that having around 70 km left to walk feels like the home straight, but something about the camino plays havoc with my sense of space and time and having walked 200km already, the end is drawing near. Sometimes the milestones make it seem like no progress is being made ("I could have sworn the last 3 had the same number of km on") and sometimes I've thought "where have the last 5km gone - I can't have only x km left". Maybe the concentrated mass of all those peregrinos, their backpacks, and the menus del dia and Estrella Galicia they have consumed are warping the fabric of spacetime round here.

I passed at least 4 little stalls set up at the side of the trail between Redondela and Pontevedra today. Most sold Camino souvenirs e.g. scallop shells, wristbands, in one case hand made leather ones, but more often colourful festival style cloth ones. These seem to end up tied to the various memory trees & signposts along the way as sentimental camino litter/graffiti, along with stickers from home. My favourite vendor had set up a straw bale seating area under some trees and had pastries, snack bars and coolers with soft drinks (fizzy lemon time for me) and even a bin for empties. If only one bright spark would hire a portaloo, bring it to the trailside and charge e.g. 50 cents or even a Euro to spend a penny, he or she would earn a gold star from me (or at least a Galicia star) and there would be fewer tissues in the undergrowth. As the enterprising locals all offer sellos, the danger is not failing to meet the 2 stamps a day requirement but running out of room in one's credencial. If someone did set up the aseos de Camino, they would have to offer a stamp of a squatting pilgrim like a Catalan cagagner!

If I measured Portugal days by the number of Frize Limaos, Galicia days appear to have a big hill count. Yesterday to Redondela was a one big hill day, today was 2 (one before Arcade, one after). I haven't dared check out elevation profiles for tomorrow as it is already planned to be my my highest km day of the whole Camino. Ultreia et suseia (as I've heard no-one say on the Camino, somewhat to my disappointment).

As well as bumping into yesterday's Colombians again, I finally met other Camino forumites in real life this afternoon. I took the alternative route from O Pobo/Santa Marta (left for the riverside route instead of right along the road). I was dithering at a tree marked with yellow arrows pointing left & right. So was an American couple, and when a first name was mentioned I asked if they were forumites with whom I'd exchanged messages about meeting up, when I realised they were in the same town. Hoping we can get together in Santiago at the end of the week.

I checked in at my accommodation and washed my long sleeve baggy top which has become my favourite hiking shirt (long sleeves means less of me has to be plastered with suncream). The Hostal Peregrino prohibits the hanging of laundry on furniture in the room but provides washing lines, a big basket of clothes pegs and a washing machine & dryer on a covered terrace.

I headed into town. Pontevedra is a proper bustling big city. After a late lunch, I popped into a pharmacy for more mosquito repellant, being nearly out. I'm not sure what it says about the respective nations' priorities that whereas in Francophone Europe, when all other shops are closed you are likely to find a bakery still open, in Portugal & Spain it is the pharmacies which are open when nowhere else is.

I found an excellent ice cream shop in the middle of Pontevedra called Stromboli. The pistachio gelato was as good as I've had in Italy. After @CaminoDebrita's post the other day, I had to go for the mango as well, which actually tasted of real mango. Maybe I do need a 3 big hill day tomorrow to burn it off!

Hey, it was great meeting you today. We had some ice cream too in Pontevedra. We had Pistachio and Chocolate! Lol

 

[HaveringRob]

If someone did set up the aseos de Camino, they would have to offer a stamp of a squatting pilgrim like a Catalan cagagner!

lol. that is a great visual.

 

[HumanistHiker]

The sluice gates were opened just after 8 am releasing the torrent of peregrinos to flood the streets of Pontevedra. There seem to be more large organised groups of walkers on this stage of the Camino. Folks gave up on the "Buen Caminos" this morning given the sheer numbers of people, resuming greetings only later when the peregrino per square metre density had gone down.

I was amused to overhear the football team trash talk between an American kid (probably around 13) and one of the adults in his group first thing. I've seen very few children on the Camino (presumably as it is term time for most) save for a nino-peregrino baby yesterday, less than a year old, being transported by his Dad in a backpack baby carrier. Dad had an old-school pilgrim staff with scallop shell & calabash so they were on their way to Santiago, not just out for a little stroll. Mum pushed a pushchair alongside holding surprisingly little baggage (given how much baby paraphernalia my sister used to lug around just for an afternoon out, when my nephew & niece were younger).

A group of Dutch hikers emerged from their hotel in Pontevedra just ahead of me first thing, crossing paths with me for much of the day before ending up in my hotel swimming pool at Caldas de Reis this afternoon. I spoke briefly to a Polish lady, who said she was part of a group of 21 from Poland walking the Camino. No groups of 80 odd Italian teenagers as per the recent thread about the Frances yet.

The large crowds became lumpier after an hour or so, with empty stretches of path followed by bottlenecks around cafes, where pilgrims piled up. There were massive queues for the loos at every cafe, and a long queue at the bar at Don Pulpo (those octopus obsessed Galicians again). I suspect I hit San Amaro at "peak brunch" around 11, so ordered a slice of tortilla (fortunately cephalopod-free, despite the cafe name & decor) as well as a coffee to make the wait worthwhile.

Meanwhile the trailside vendors had upped their game, with a food truck offering ice creams, and a fruit stall. At this rate, by the time we reach the far side of Padron, I expect to see Camino pop-up restaurants from some of Galicia's Michelin-starred chefs, offering designer tapas to sweaty pilgrims. I also encountered the person handing out leaflets advertising the pilgrim meals at O Encontro in Caldas de Reis, referred to in a previous thread on food on the Portuguese Camino.

The walk itself was not as tough as I'd feared, being mostly flat with only half a big hill. It was pleasantly cool until around 12, with shade provided by trees. However, there were a few short stretches along busy roads, and the last few miles through villages were sun-baked.

I arrived at my old-school spa hotel in Caldas de Reis around 2.30, where I whiled away a couple of hours swimming in the decent sized pool (heated by the addition of the hot spring water through a dolphin shaped spout) and sitting in the bathtub-hot "paddling pool for grown,-ups". The hotel seems to attract an older local clientele, with peregrinos in the minority.

Like many other peregrinos whose faces I recognised from the trail today, I ended up at O Encontro for dinner - their leafleting campaign clearly works! Caldo Gallego is superior to its Portuguese green cousin, including beans & other root veg as well as the obligatory brassica. This was followed by hake (a fish encountered more frequently in Spain than back home in my experience) and Santiago Tart. I was joined for dinner by one of the few non-Dutch encountered in my hotel pool earlier, R from Toronto. The other tables outside the restaurant being occupied or reserved, she asked if she could join me and I was really happy to have company again this evening. The Camino continues to provide nice Canadians!

 

[goose03celtic19]

The sluice gates were opened just after 8 am releasing the torrent of peregrinos to flood the streets of Pontevedra. There seem to be more large organised groups of walkers on this stage of the Camino. Folks gave up on the "Buen Caminos" this morning given the sheer numbers of people, resuming greetings only later when the peregrino per square metre density had gone down.

I was amused to overhear the football team trash talk between an American kid (probably around 13) and one of the adults in his group first thing. I've seen very few children on the Camino (presumably as it is term time for most) save for a nino-peregrino baby yesterday, less than a year old, being transported by his Dad in a backpack baby carrier. Dad had an old-school pilgrim staff with scallop shell & calabash so they were on their way to Santiago, not just out for a little stroll. Mum pushed a pushchair alongside holding surprisingly little baggage (given how much baby paraphernalia my sister used to lug around just for an afternoon out, when my nephew & niece were younger).

A group of Dutch hikers emerged from their hotel in Pontevedra just ahead of me first thing, crossing paths with me for much of the day before ending up in my hotel swimming pool at Caldas de Reis this afternoon. I spoke briefly to a Polish lady, who said she was part of a group of 21 from Poland walking the Camino. No groups of 80 odd Italian teenagers as per the recent thread about the Frances yet.

The large crowds became lumpier after an hour or so, with empty stretches of path followed by bottlenecks around cafes, where pilgrims piled up. There were massive queues for the loos at every cafe, and a long queue at the bar at Don Pulpo (those octopus obsessed Galicians again). I suspect I hit San Amaro at "peak brunch" around 11, so ordered a slice of tortilla (fortunately cephalopod-free, despite the cafe name & decor) as well as a coffee to make the wait worthwhile.

Meanwhile the trailside vendors had upped their game, with a food truck offering ice creams, and a fruit stall. At this rate, by the time we reach the far side of Padron, I expect to see Camino pop-up restaurants from some of Galicia's Michelin-starred chefs, offering designer tapas to sweaty pilgrims. I also encountered the person handing out leaflets advertising the pilgrim meals at O Encontro in Caldas de Reis, referred to in a previous thread on food on the Portuguese Camino.

The walk itself was not as tough as I'd feared, being mostly flat with only half a big hill. It was pleasantly cool until around 12, with shade provided by trees. However, there were a few short stretches along busy roads, and the last few miles through villages were sun-baked.

I arrived at my old-school spa hotel in Caldas de Reis around 2.30, where I whiled away a couple of hours swimming in the decent sized pool (heated by the addition of the hot spring water through a dolphin shaped spout) and sitting in the bathtub-hot "paddling pool for grown,-ups". The hotel seems to attract an older local clientele, with peregrinos in the minority.

Like many other peregrinos whose faces I recognised from the trail today, I ended up at O Encontro for dinner - their leafleting campaign clearly works! Caldo Gallego is superior to its Portuguese green cousin, including beans & other root veg as well as the obligatory brassica. This was followed by hake (a fish encountered more frequently in Spain than back home in my experience) and Santiago Tart. I was joined for dinner by one of the few non-Dutch encountered in my hotel pool earlier, R from Toronto. The other tables outside the restaurant being occupied or reserved, she asked if she could join me and I was really happy to have company again this evening. The Camino continues to provide nice Canadians!

You are so informative and extremely funny. I look forward to reading your chats each day.

 

[HumanistHiker]

I thought it was mogwais/gremlins that multiply in number when they get wet, but when I came down for breakfast, the crowds in the hotel dining room made me wonder if the same was true of Dutch peregrinos. Maybe there is something in the water at Caldas de Reis! Fortunately Dutch peregrinos, even the ones who struggled to operate the coffee machine as a queue built up, are a lot less trouble than mogwais/gremlins.

I set off at a fairly brisk pace (for me at least) with the intention of beating the heat and the crowds. I stopped only briefly to exchange a few words with the Polish woman who recognised me from yesterday, and her friend, who had overtaken me, and me him, many times over the previous day.

I had psyched myself up for big hills today, based on a glance at dinner at R from Toronto's app showing route profiles. The walk to Padron would best be described as consistently undulating, quite a lot of uphill then down dale through the woods in shade, rather than a long uphill slog.

A dilemma when walking, when the Camino is so crowded and the forecast is warm, is whether to stop at a cafe or bar for a refreshing drink or snack, or push on to minimise walking during the hottest part of the day. Cafe stops bring loos (with queues) but can easily cost 20 minutes compared with a swig from a carried water bottle on the hoof. Eventually another leaflet handed out by a local at the side of the trail led me to stop at Cafe San Miguel, the unoriginally named second of the 2 cafes in San Miguel de Valga, for a fresh squeezed orange juice.

Shortly before Pontcesures, with its big factory puthering out great clouds of steam visible miles away, I saw 2 familiar figures ahead. It was Canadians, B & R, who had indeed stayed in the same accommodation as me in O Porrino without any of us realising it at the time.

This stage of the Camino, so close to the finishing line in Santiago, feels the most perilous. R had been laid low with illness. Today was her first day back walking the Camino after 2 sick days involving taxi transfers. She was finding it tough going due to a combination of blisters, the heat, and still feeling ill. The longer the Camino walked up to this point, the more disappointing it must be if circumstances conspire to deny a Compostela in the last few tens of km. The 3 of us took it nice & slow, with a socks & shoes off sit down break where we were entertained by local cats running around. Judging by the gait of some of the pilgrims passing us, R was not the only one to have acquired blisters or pain after so many km on foot.

Eventually we made it to Padron, where I'd booked a private room in an albergue right on the southern edge of town. The area felt more like an industrial estate, but the accommodation is fine. I was delighted that on the reception desk there was a big pad of maps of Padron. The heavily tattooed receptionist proceeded to circle with biro on the topmost map, a list of key St James related sights in town, a restaurant still serving pilgrim menus late afternoon, and the time of a service at one of the churches. In a world where organisations and businesses increasingly expect anyone wanting information to use a smartphone to click on a QR code, such analogue provision of tourist information should be celebrated!

After showering & changing, I headed for the town centre, armed with my paper map. The Igrexa de Santiago doors were closed, so I went for a late lunch. This was not at the restaurant suggested by the albergue as I was put off by the crooner performing outside, but one around the corner out of earshot. Padron peppers, of course. The serving I'd had in Tui had been distinctly lacking in the random hot ones - they were all waiting here for me in their home town! They were followed by generous portion of zorza red paprika pork & more chips. Having obtained a sello (with an octopus design, the restaurant being a "pulperia" serving boiled sea monsters) I felt in need of walking off my large meal.

Having spotted the church doors were now open, I went in the side entrance. That's odd, I thought, quite a lot of people sat in pews for a random Wednesday evening when it is not the advertised mass time. I had just got a look at the carved relief of the "Traslatio" and was wondering why St James's head still appeared firmly attached to his shoulders, if he had been beheaded, when the bell started tolling and pallbearers entered carrying a coffin. Oops, I appear to have gatecrashed a funeral - that was why the church doors had been unlocked! I slunk out the side door where I'd come in and just hope my presence hadn't upset any of the mourners.

Over the river, past the unfountain like Fonte do Carme, and then it was 132 steps to the Santiaguito del Monte, where there is a small (closed, of course) church, a hermitage (not converted into holiday accommodation as it would no doubt have been in the UK), and a mound of rocks with a stone cross on top. Legend has it, this is where (pre-beheading) St James had preached. It was a peaceful spot (the crowds of peregrinos on the Camino today clearly having had enough of walking, to climb one more hill, however integral to the Santiago story). Heading back past the church in town, I warned a couple of English women about to enter, that there was a funeral going on, in the hope they didn't make the same mistake I had.

 

[jalluisi]

I thought it was mogwais/gremlins that multiply in number when they get wet, but when I came down for breakfast, the crowds in the hotel dining room made me wonder if the same was true of Dutch peregrinos. Maybe there is something in the water at Caldas de Reis! Fortunately Dutch peregrinos, even the ones who struggled to operate the coffee machine as a queue built up, are a lot less trouble than mogwais/gremlins.

I set off at a fairly brisk pace (for me at least) with the intention of beating the heat and the crowds. I stopped only briefly to exchange a few words with the Polish woman who recognised me from yesterday, and her friend, who had overtaken me, and me him, many times over the previous day.

I had psyched myself up for big hills today, based on a glance at dinner at R from Toronto's app showing route profiles. The walk to Padron would best be described as consistently undulating, quite a lot of uphill then down dale through the woods in shade, rather than a long uphill slog.

A dilemma when walking, when the Camino is so crowded and the forecast is warm, is whether to stop at a cafe or bar for a refreshing drink or snack, or push on to minimise walking during the hottest part of the day. Cafe stops bring loos (with queues) but can easily cost 20 minutes compared with a swig from a carried water bottle on the hoof. Eventually another leaflet handed out by a local at the side of the trail led me to stop at Cafe San Miguel, the unoriginally named second of the 2 cafes in San Miguel de Valga, for a fresh squeezed orange juice.

Shortly before Pontcesures, with its big factory puthering out great clouds of steam visible miles away, I saw 2 familiar figures ahead. It was Canadians, B & R, who had indeed stayed in the same accommodation as me in O Porrino without any of us realising it at the time.

This stage of the Camino, so close to the finishing line in Santiago, feels the most perilous. R had been laid low with illness. Today was her first day back walking the Camino after 2 sick days involving taxi transfers. She was finding it tough going due to a combination of blisters, the heat, and still feeling ill. The longer the Camino walked up to this point, the more disappointing it must be if circumstances conspire to deny a Compostela in the last few tens of km. The 3 of us took it nice & slow, with a socks & shoes off sit down break where we were entertained by local cats running around. Judging by the gait of some of the pilgrims passing us, R was not the only one to have acquired blisters or pain after so many km on foot.

Eventually we made it to Padron, where I'd booked a private room in an albergue right on the southern edge of town. The area felt more like an industrial estate, but the accommodation is fine. I was delighted that on the reception desk there was a big pad of maps of Padron. The heavily tattooed receptionist proceeded to circle with biro on the topmost map, a list of key St James related sights in town, a restaurant still serving pilgrim menus late afternoon, and the time of a service at one of the churches. In a world where organisations and businesses increasingly expect anyone wanting information to use a smartphone to click on a QR code, such analogue provision of tourist information should be celebrated!

After showering & changing, I headed for the town centre, armed with my paper map. The Igrexa de Santiago doors were closed, so I went for a late lunch. This was not at the restaurant suggested by the albergue as I was put off by the crooner performing outside, but one around the corner out of earshot. Padron peppers, of course. The serving I'd had in Tui had been distinctly lacking in the random hot ones - they were all waiting here for me in their home town! They were followed by generous portion of zorza red paprika pork & more chips. Having obtained a sello (with an octopus design, the restaurant being a "pulperia" serving boiled sea monsters) I felt in need of walking off my large meal.

Having spotted the church doors were now open, I went in the side entrance. That's odd, I thought, quite a lot of people sat in pews for a random Wednesday evening when it is not the advertised mass time. I had just got a look at the carved relief of the "Traslatio" and was wondering why St James's head still appeared firmly attached to his shoulders, if he had been beheaded, when the bell started tolling and pallbearers entered carrying a coffin. Oops, I appear to have gatecrashed a funeral - that was why the church doors had been unlocked! I slunk out the side door where I'd come in and just hope my presence hadn't upset any of the mourners.

Over the river, past the unfountain like Fonte do Carme, and then it was 132 steps to the Santiaguito del Monte, where there is a small (closed, of course) church, a hermitage (not converted into holiday accommodation as it would no doubt have been in the UK), and a mound of rocks with a stone cross on top. Legend has it, this is where (pre-beheading) St James had preached. It was a peaceful spot (the crowds of peregrinos on the Camino today clearly having had enough of walking, to climb one more hill, however integral to the Santiago story). Heading back past the church in town, I warned a couple of English women about to enter, that there was a funeral going on, in the hope they didn't make the same mistake I had.

Hey,

We are in Padron and walked to the Monte. Climb all those 132 stairs! It was nice to see the statue and church. We saw the fountain but needs some work!

 

[HumanistHiker]

Today's 19km gentle uphill trudge from Padron passed remarkably quickly, partly aided by cooler and overcast weather for most of the morning. Today confirmed my theory that having someone to talk to shrinks the km. Not far out of Padron I acquired a hiking buddy for the day, a German who initially thought I was someone else who had stayed at his hotel, and carried on chatting all the way to Milladoiro. I suspect he was also hoping company would make time fly through the rather uninspired surroundings (the odd OK village but a higher proportion of urban sprawl to oak & pine forest than on earlier days).

U from Leipzig had probably hiked more miles in the UK than I had. He was working his way round the South West Coastal Path, in stages especially in winter months. Wet, windy Devon January weather was preferable in his books to bitterly cold German winter hikes. Not sure I'd agree (especially after he regaled me with a tale of ending up to his thighs in a freezing cold stream). We were, however, of one mind when it came to the excellent value of breakfasts & beer in Wetherspoon pubs. While I wouldn't want Portugal & Spain to be full of English pubs, we both agreed than a 'Spoons style English cooked breakfast would have been a more satisfying start to a day's Camino hike than what was commonly on offer in Spanish hotels.

After a brief stop for a fresh squeezed orange juice, before I knew it we were in Milladoiro, and said our goodbyes. My hotel let me check in early, and after changing my shirt, TripAdvisor revealed that the pizza restaurant around the corner was well regarded. Here I exercised my "trivial superpower" of making a remarkably large pizza disappear into a relatively small person. While I had been pondering walking into Santiago this afternoon as it was still early, on getting up from the table, my legs said a resounding no to that idea.

Instead I took a short stroll round the blocks near my hotel. Milladoiro is a modern outer suburb, with shiny new flats, a disproportionate number of dentists, and just a hint of Milton Keynes. Apart from a few bars and cafes, nothing was open - not even a pharmacy. Milladoiro on a public holiday in the afternoon is not what you'd call lively.

I vacillated about whether to try and catch a bus into the city centre e.g. to visit the pilgrimage museum but the web site said it would not be open this afternoon, being a public holiday. I spotted an obvious young peregrina at the bus stop. She explained that her feet had had enough, and never mind the Compostela, she just wanted to get to her city centre hostel. Having waited over an hour at a bus stop 5km further out of town with no bus arriving, she had walked 5km more than she really wanted to today, to where I met her. She hadn't had anyone to chat to while walking today (so those km will have felt even longer) and was worrying about events back in her home country, as well as her own safety here due to her nationality. I offered to come with her as far as the hostel if she was worried, but she said no need, so I stayed with her and chatted for around 40 minutes until a bus arrived and I saw her get on. She was hoping to meet a couple of Camino friends from a previous day to go to Finisterra tomorrow. Fingers crossed she has a better day.

As for me, every time I get up from sitting down this afternoon, my hips and legs remind me that I've just walked over 250km in the last couple of weeks. I thought I'd been doing well to avoid aches & pains on the Camino so far. I won't say anything about my feet in case the blister fairy pays me a visit on my last 6 km tomorrow. Perhaps it is time to investigate the analgesic properties of an Estrella Galicia, the (un?)official beer of the Camino.

 

[HumanistHiker]

Be careful what you wish for, pilgrims... For all those peregrinos who had been hoping for an end to the heatwave the Camino delivered this morning, in buckets!

When I opened the blind of my Milladoiro hotel room first thing, the view was of torrential rain lashing the pitch black street outside. Hotel reception was not staffed when I left just before 8, so I headed across the road to a cafe for a sello and cafe con leche. I made it about 300 m further down the road before realising the Camino would take me on a path across a park with no street lamps, and I don't have a headlamp. I retreated into a nearby bakery, to make an orange juice last until daylight came. Other already bedraggled pilgrims arrived from the nearby albergue for breakfast.

Eventually, when I thought I could see where I was going, I fished my waterproof trousers out of my day pack (today being the first day they were not travelling by Pilbeo in my big bag to my next hotel) and ventured into the deluge.
On the plus side, the rain was hitting the top of my head and back rather than being driven into my face. (I'm trying to make lemonade, or Frize Limao, from this morning's meteorological lemon.)

Somewhere under a motorway flyover, where the highway drains were cascading water on to the vegetation below, I encountered another walker, in a pink plastic poncho, consulting the map on his phone. Having decided there was no better scenic alternative to the Camino, J from Ceuta became my hiking buddy for the final stage into Santiago. I couldn't have asked for a better companion - keen to practice his English, full of knowledge about the cathedral, and proceeding at a cracking pace which I was more than happy to go along with, given my desire to get this stage over with due to the weather. Occasionally the downpours gave way to brief periods of mere drizzle, before the heavens opened again as we arrived in the seriouy impressive Plaza Obradoiro. I was sweaty but elated - I'd made it (and blister-free!) We took the obligatory photos of each other in front of the cathedral - at least ours will be different from the usual blue skies & cheesy grin. J dashed off to try and attend an 11 am mass.

I contemplated going into the cathedral (technically, one is supposed to visit the tomb of St James before claiming the Compostela) but the queue, bulked out by Carnival Cruises hordes, put me off. I headed to the Pilgrim Office to collect my Compostela. The Pilgrim Office was a seriously slick operation - wave my phone showing the QR code, take a queue ticket, look at the screen to find out which desk to go to, hand over credencial for the final sello. The folks in charge of the the Pilgrim Office could teach post offices a thing or two about queue management. I asked for the distance certificate as well as the Compostela. I still can't work out if my distance certificate says 240 or 290 km, given the font. 240 is too little but 290 seems like an overestimate. On my Compostela, NY first name was Latinised by adding "am" on the end.

Although I am not religious, I thought attending the 12 noon pilgrim mass in the cathedral might be an appropriate way of marking the end of my Camino. I joined the queue in the rain to go in. The cathedral is even more impressive on the inside. While Spanish ecclesiastical design is not really my taste, the sheer over the top amount of gilt and silver around the high altar was pretty awesome. As I entered, there was singing, a organ music (the acoustics were great - I wonder if they have concerts in there) and a hint of incense. All the seats were taken, so I lurked by a pillar. While it was half an hour before the service was due to start, I didn't mind standing, not having another 15km to walk today.

Being stood up, my usual rule when it comes to religious services, especially in foreign languages (just stand up and sit down when everyone else does - works for Easter in Spain, Bat Mitzvahs etc) did not apply. From the announcement at the start of the nationalities of recent pilgrim arrivals, the Colombians I'd met had made it to Santiago. There were priests from at least 5 nations helping with the service. I could follow a little of the Spanish, sermon & bible readings being slower than locals chatting in a bar. And then, after those "Catholics in good grace with God" had taken communion, (dare I say it), the bit that a lot of us peregrinos had been waiting for. I noticed a group of men with dark red velvet vestments (not the priests taking the service) heading across the aisle .... and then untying the ropes .... Yes! Botafumeiro!!! Maybe those large cruise ship groups have their uses, or maybe it was one of the pilgrim groups who had paid. I was actually a bit emotional, as the censer, which weighs almost as much as me, was hoist aloft and swung across the cathedral in a wake of incense fumes. I certainly hadn't counted on seeing it, but it was truly a fitting finale to my Camino. One last pilgrim I to dot and t to cross - see the tomb of St James itself (more impressive silver, no wonder it is kept locked up behind bars), the statue of St James behind the altar & then retreat to a bar for vino tinto. I ordered tortilla espanola (one of the world's great comfort foods), had a delicious on the house tapa involving beans, spinach & pork, yum, and was then joined by @jalluisi of this parish for more wine, more tortilla and a convivial post-camino natter.

My only problem now is finding my hotel - Santiago having scrambled my sense or direction even before the wine. It's not far but the cathedral is huge!

 

[HaveringRob]

I am so happy for you! Botafumeiro!!! Enjoy your wanderings around the city. We start out from Porto in a couple of days and I have been watching the weather with some trepidation. It looks like it will be soggy. I think that is better than the heat.

 

[SantiagoCruzB]

Be careful what you wish for, pilgrims... For all those peregrinos who had been hoping for an end to the heatwave the Camino delivered this morning, in buckets!

When I opened the blind of my Milladoiro hotel room first thing, the view was of torrential rain lashing the pitch black street outside. Hotel reception was not staffed when I left just before 8, so I headed across the road to a cafe for a sello and cafe con leche. I made it about 300 m further down the road before realising the Camino would take me on a path across a park with no street lamps, and I don't have a headlamp. I retreated into a nearby bakery, to make an orange juice last until daylight came. Other already bedraggled pilgrims arrived from the nearby albergue for breakfast.

Eventually, when I thought I could see where I was going, I fished my waterproof trousers out of my day pack (today being the first day they were not travelling by Pilbeo in my big bag to my next hotel) and ventured into the deluge.
On the plus side, the rain was hitting the top of my head and back rather than being driven into my face. (I'm trying to make lemonade, or Frize Limao, from this morning's meteorological lemon.)

Somewhere under a motorway flyover, where the highway drains were cascading water on to the vegetation below, I encountered another walker, in a pink plastic poncho, consulting the map on his phone. Having decided there was no better scenic alternative to the Camino, J from Ceuta became my hiking buddy for the final stage into Santiago. I couldn't have asked for a better companion - keen to practice his English, full of knowledge about the cathedral, and proceeding at a cracking pace which I was more than happy to go along with, given my desire to get this stage over with due to the weather. Occasionally the downpours gave way to brief periods of mere drizzle, before the heavens opened again as we arrived in the seriouy impressive Plaza Obradoiro. I was sweaty but elated - I'd made it (and blister-free!) We took the obligatory photos of each other in front of the cathedral - at least ours will be different from the usual blue skies & cheesy grin. J dashed off to try and attend an 11 am mass.

I contemplated going into the cathedral (technically, one is supposed to visit the tomb of St James before claiming the Compostela) but the queue, bulked out by Carnival Cruises hordes, put me off. I headed to the Pilgrim Office to collect my Compostela. The Pilgrim Office was a seriously slick operation - wave my phone showing the QR code, take a queue ticket, look at the screen to find out which desk to go to, hand over credencial for the final sello. The folks in charge of the the Pilgrim Office could teach post offices a thing or two about queue management. I asked for the distance certificate as well as the Compostela. I still can't work out if my distance certificate says 240 or 290 km, given the font. 240 is too little but 290 seems like an overestimate. On my Compostela, NY first name was Latinised by adding "am" on the end.

Although I am not religious, I thought attending the 12 noon pilgrim mass in the cathedral might be an appropriate way of marking the end of my Camino. I joined the queue in the rain to go in. The cathedral is even more impressive on the inside. While Spanish ecclesiastical design is not really my taste, the sheer over the top amount of gilt and silver around the high altar was pretty awesome. As I entered, there was singing, a organ music (the acoustics were great - I wonder if they have concerts in there) and a hint of incense. All the seats were taken, so I lurked by a pillar. While it was half an hour before the service was due to start, I didn't mind standing, not having another 15km to walk today.

Being stood up, my usual rule when it comes to religious services, especially in foreign languages (just stand up and sit down when everyone else does - works for Easter in Spain, Bat Mitzvahs etc) did not apply. From the announcement at the start of the nationalities of recent pilgrim arrivals, the Colombians I'd met had made it to Santiago. There were priests from at least 5 nations helping with the service. I could follow a little of the Spanish, sermon & bible readings being slower than locals chatting in a bar. And then, after those "Catholics in good grace with God" had taken communion, (dare I say it), the bit that a lot of us peregrinos had been waiting for. I noticed a group of men with dark red velvet vestments (not the priests taking the service) heading across the aisle .... and then untying the ropes .... Yes! Botafumeiro!!! Maybe those large cruise ship groups have their uses, or maybe it was one of the pilgrim groups who had paid. I was actually a bit emotional, as the censer, which weighs almost as much as me, was hoist aloft and swung across the cathedral in a wake of incense fumes. I certainly hadn't counted on seeing it, but it was truly a fitting finale to my Camino. One last pilgrim I to dot and t to cross - see the tomb of St James itself (more impressive silver, no wonder it is kept locked up behind bars), the statue of St James behind the altar & then retreat to a bar for vino tinto. I ordered tortilla espanola (one of the world's great comfort foods), had a delicious on the house tapa involving beans, spinach & pork, yum, and was then joined by @jalluisi of this parish for more wine, more tortilla and a convivial post-camino natter.

My only problem now is finding my hotel - Santiago having scrambled my sense or direction even before the wine. It's not far but the cathedral is huge!

Congrats on completing your Camino. What a lovely ending even if it's in the rain. God bless!

 

[jalluisi]

Be careful what you wish for, pilgrims... For all those peregrinos who had been hoping for an end to the heatwave the Camino delivered this morning, in buckets!

When I opened the blind of my Milladoiro hotel room first thing, the view was of torrential rain lashing the pitch black street outside. Hotel reception was not staffed when I left just before 8, so I headed across the road to a cafe for a sello and cafe con leche. I made it about 300 m further down the road before realising the Camino would take me on a path across a park with no street lamps, and I don't have a headlamp. I retreated into a nearby bakery, to make an orange juice last until daylight came. Other already bedraggled pilgrims arrived from the nearby albergue for breakfast.

Eventually, when I thought I could see where I was going, I fished my waterproof trousers out of my day pack (today being the first day they were not travelling by Pilbeo in my big bag to my next hotel) and ventured into the deluge.
On the plus side, the rain was hitting the top of my head and back rather than being driven into my face. (I'm trying to make lemonade, or Frize Limao, from this morning's meteorological lemon.)

Somewhere under a motorway flyover, where the highway drains were cascading water on to the vegetation below, I encountered another walker, in a pink plastic poncho, consulting the map on his phone. Having decided there was no better scenic alternative to the Camino, J from Ceuta became my hiking buddy for the final stage into Santiago. I couldn't have asked for a better companion - keen to practice his English, full of knowledge about the cathedral, and proceeding at a cracking pace which I was more than happy to go along with, given my desire to get this stage over with due to the weather. Occasionally the downpours gave way to brief periods of mere drizzle, before the heavens opened again as we arrived in the seriouy impressive Plaza Obradoiro. I was sweaty but elated - I'd made it (and blister-free!) We took the obligatory photos of each other in front of the cathedral - at least ours will be different from the usual blue skies & cheesy grin. J dashed off to try and attend an 11 am mass.

I contemplated going into the cathedral (technically, one is supposed to visit the tomb of St James before claiming the Compostela) but the queue, bulked out by Carnival Cruises hordes, put me off. I headed to the Pilgrim Office to collect my Compostela. The Pilgrim Office was a seriously slick operation - wave my phone showing the QR code, take a queue ticket, look at the screen to find out which desk to go to, hand over credencial for the final sello. The folks in charge of the the Pilgrim Office could teach post offices a thing or two about queue management. I asked for the distance certificate as well as the Compostela. I still can't work out if my distance certificate says 240 or 290 km, given the font. 240 is too little but 290 seems like an overestimate. On my Compostela, NY first name was Latinised by adding "am" on the end.

Although I am not religious, I thought attending the 12 noon pilgrim mass in the cathedral might be an appropriate way of marking the end of my Camino. I joined the queue in the rain to go in. The cathedral is even more impressive on the inside. While Spanish ecclesiastical design is not really my taste, the sheer over the top amount of gilt and silver around the high altar was pretty awesome. As I entered, there was singing, a organ music (the acoustics were great - I wonder if they have concerts in there) and a hint of incense. All the seats were taken, so I lurked by a pillar. While it was half an hour before the service was due to start, I didn't mind standing, not having another 15km to walk today.

Being stood up, my usual rule when it comes to religious services, especially in foreign languages (just stand up and sit down when everyone else does - works for Easter in Spain, Bat Mitzvahs etc) did not apply. From the announcement at the start of the nationalities of recent pilgrim arrivals, the Colombians I'd met had made it to Santiago. There were priests from at least 5 nations helping with the service. I could follow a little of the Spanish, sermon & bible readings being slower than locals chatting in a bar. And then, after those "Catholics in good grace with God" had taken communion, (dare I say it), the bit that a lot of us peregrinos had been waiting for. I noticed a group of men with dark red velvet vestments (not the priests taking the service) heading across the aisle .... and then untying the ropes .... Yes! Botafumeiro!!! Maybe those large cruise ship groups have their uses, or maybe it was one of the pilgrim groups who had paid. I was actually a bit emotional, as the censer, which weighs almost as much as me, was hoist aloft and swung across the cathedral in a wake of incense fumes. I certainly hadn't counted on seeing it, but it was truly a fitting finale to my Camino. One last pilgrim I to dot and t to cross - see the tomb of St James itself (more impressive silver, no wonder it is kept locked up behind bars), the statue of St James behind the altar & then retreat to a bar for vino tinto. I ordered tortilla espanola (one of the world's great comfort foods), had a delicious on the house tapa involving beans, spinach & pork, yum, and was then joined by @jalluisi of this parish for more wine, more tortilla and a convivial post-camino natter.

My only problem now is finding my hotel - Santiago having scrambled my sense or direction even before the wine. It's not far but the cathedral is huge!

We made it!! Even with the rain.

 

[CaminoDebrita]

Oh, the rain, the rain— the sideways rain! I walked from Pontevedra to Calda de Reis today, and the rain was coming down so hard you could see it. It was sideways, it was the other side, it was all over the place. I could not avoid walking in rivers of water. When I stumbled into my pension, I was so soaking dripping wet that the owner hardly knew what to do with me.

But for me, it’s much better than the heatwave or October Portugal 2023! Never mind that my feet have turned white. Congratulations on making it in!

 

[HumanistHiker]

@CaminoDebrita - if you've made it to Caldas de Reis, not far to go now! Well done, especially if you've been battling through horizontal rain. Good luck on the Camino for the next couple of days (I have a feeling there were some cobble lined culverts across the path on those last couple of days that I could simply step over, but which might be a bit raging torrenty by now).

As one of the people I kept meeting on the second half of my camino put it when I ran into her near my Santiago hotel my last day "I couldn't have been wetter if I had been swimming". I think it was Sunday back home before my day pack had completely dried out.

 

[CaminoDebrita]

@CaminoDebrita - if you've made it to Caldas de Reis, not far to go now! Well done, especially if you've been battling through horizontal rain. Good luck on the Camino for the next couple of days (I have a feeling there were some cobble lined culverts across the path on those last couple of days that I could simply step over, but which might be a bit raging torrenty by now).

As one of the people I kept meeting on the second half of my camino put it when I ran into her near my Santiago hotel my last day "I couldn't have been wetter if I had been swimming". I think it was Sunday back home before my day pack had completely dried out.

I was absolutely shocked with those little culverts across the paths today. And walking under and near the lovely grape arbors on the way to Caldas de Reis, the downhills were flowing rivers. It's so difficult when a big puddle is in the muddle (middle, but I like muddle!) of the path, with narrow margins of mud to either side. Which side to attempt? It doesn't matter. Just do it and get it over with fast.

By the time I reached the final bar on the way to CDR, the one on the left with the ample table room, I was so glad to have that final capuccino of the day. I'd stopped at many bars en route. I'd run into old friends from earlier Camino days, and I met some new friends too. It was a good day despite the very, very uncooperative weather! The rain doesn't bother me quite as much as my feet. I'm just sore at this point!

An interesting morning: before the split off to the Spiritual Variante, a crowd of fifty, not kidding, from Andalusia were being marched along by a tour guide. It was really, really bizarre to see so many people all of a sudden. They stopped walking fairly soon, but I wonder if they'll be catching up to me. Large groups always give me the heebie jeebies. who am I going to have to share that one bathroom with at the bar, ha ha ha!

 

[jalluisi]

We had lots of puddles and river flowing through the areas we were walking in. We went into one bar and the floor was wet, seats were wet from pilgrims sitting. Even though it was raining it was nice to see how the landscape changes with rain.

We thought there were much more people walking the Camino this year than last year.

 

[CaminoMonique]

Congrats on completing your Camino and thank you for sharing your experience with us!

 

[CaminoDebrita]

On 20 Oct , I will complete my 3rd Camino! I am taking my time, and staying in a sweet rural pension just South of SDC. More later, but I am just very tired and also very grateful.

 

[HumanistHiker]

Go @CaminoDebrita! Very nearly there!

Enjoy putting your feet up (and drying them out still?) today, and I hope you have a less soggy triumphant arrival in SdC tomorrow.

 

[CaminoDebrita]

Lol, thanks so much @HumanistHiker ! I must have been tired. This is my fourth Camino in Spain--my third earned Compostela!
I'm relaxing and taking it easy. T-shirts and souvenirs purchased, and enjoying some time with friends now.

 

[jalluisi]

Lol, thanks so much @HumanistHiker ! I must have been tired. This is my fourth Camino in Spain--my third earned Compostela!
I'm relaxing and taking it easy. T-shirts and souvenirs purchased, and enjoying some time with friends now.

Congratulations!!!!