Santiago!
Yesterday in Spain ⋅ ☁️ 23 °C
Got here a few minutes ago. Just as amazing and emotional as my first time here.
Caldas de Reis to Padrón (again)
October 1 in Spain ⋅ ☀️ 23 °C
I wasn’t up quite early enough for the first bus from Padrón back to Caldas de Reis, and so I had time for breakfast at the Albergue and then another coffee at the bus station cafe.
However, I was soon back in Caldas and on the Camino. It was very chilly this morning, with a cold mist or fog low over the hills. I needed a second layer on initially but warmed up rapidly once I was walking and as sun began to break through the fog.
Today’s path was mostly in beautiful and green countryside. At first climbing out of the valley, past several tiny villages and then into woodland.
I stopped for a drink and a slice of tortilla at around the 10km point. Shortly after this, the Camino began a long descent into the next valley. There seemed to be lots of Spanish teenagers on the road today, presumably part of a school trip.
At one point, although there was pretty countryside to my right and a tall hedge on my left, the peace and quiet of the former was overwhelmed by the roar of traffic on the motorway on the other side of the hedge! The path then climbed to cross a bridge over the motorway and then briefly ran alongside it before heading further away, where we soon lost the noise of the traffic.
After more ups and downs, the Camino entered the town of Pontecesures, named after the Roman “Caesar’s” bridge across the Rio Ulla. The road ran along the ridge overlooking the river valley before dropping to the river and the bridge. According to the legends about the Translatio of St James, the boat carrying his body arrived here before then heading up the Rio Sar, which meets the Ulla just downstream of the bridge.
One of the alternate routes which form the Camino Português, known as the Variante Espiritual (Spiritual Variant) involves a boat trip along the coast and up the Rio Ulla to land at Pontecesures. Some of my friends took this option, and left the central route just after Pontevedra, and were in fact on one of the boat trips this morning.
From Pontecesures, it’s just 2km, largely following the Rio Sar into Padrón.
I stopped for cold drinks and a brief rest before strolling past the Igrexa de Santiago and last night’s albergue, and heading back to the Estación de autobús.
This time I needed to catch a bus heading to Santiago, but only for 10 minutes or so, in order to get off at O Faramello, a hamlet just off the main road where I am staying tonight.Read more
Exploring Padrón
September 30 in Spain ⋅ ⛅ 20 °C
My albergue wasn’t far from the estación de autobús. Once again, I was lucky enough to have a top bunk, although the bottom bunks were the thickness of a mattress above the floor, so it wasn’t quite as high as often is the case.
After the usual routine, I went down to the bar below the albergue for a Radler or two (or “una cerveza con limón”). In this bar, they had it on tap. I then got chatting with 2 Australian teachers from Melbourne, an American from Michigan and an Austrian. The latter were repeat pilgrims and the Australians were enjoying their first Camino.
After sharing about our Camino experiences for a while, I went to get an extra layer and then went off to explore.
Padrón is probably most well today for the eponymous “pimentos de Padrón” (Padrón peppers) which were first introduced to Spain at the Franciscan Convento de Hebrón just outside the town. If you’ve not enjoyed this delicacy, these are small green peppers which are usually served fried in olive oil and coarse salt. Most Padrón peppers are sweet and mild but occasionally are hot and spicy. The local saying (in local dialect Galego) is “Os pementos de Padrón, uns pican e outros non" ("Padrón peppers, some are hot and some are not")!
Almost directly opposite the bar and albergue was Padrón’s main church, the Igrexa de Santiago (Church of St James). This 19th century church was built over at least 2 predecessors and, like the whole town, holds a special place in the legends surrounding St James.
A nearby hilltop is said to be where St James first preached in Spain.
But most of the legends surround the bringing of James’s head and body (back) to Spain after his decapitation in Jerusalem in AD 44. The process of James’s return by boat is known as the “Translatio”.
The stories are slightly conflicting, but generally involve some of James’s disciples sailing with the body from Haifa, Israel up the rivers Ulla and Sar to arrive at the port of what was then Iria Flavia, now a parish within Padrón. Some legends say the boat was miraculously made of stone or guided by an angel.
Another key part of the legend is that, on arrival at Iria Flavia, the boat bearing James’ remains was tied to a stone altar, or pedrón (or padrón). A Roman stone altar dedicated to Neptune has traditionally been identified as the particular Pedrón, and which is now under the altar in the Igrexa de Santiago. Other legends hold that the first church on this site was built over the Pedrón.
After exploring the church and the replica of the Pedrón on the opposite bank of the Rio Sar, it was time to meet 2 of my Canadian friends for dinner.Read more
Pontevedra to Caldas de Reis
September 30 in Spain ⋅ 🌧 19 °C
Lots to be thankful for today. I slept well (on a lower bunk) and woke early enough to be away from the albergue at about 7. The rain had stopped overnight ,although more rain was likely later in the morning.
I’d also been able to secure accommodation for the next 2 nights, about which more later.
I set off with purpose into the dark, mainly because I was retracing my steps back to the old city and so I knew exactly where I was going!
The Camino soon led out of the city and back into countryside. The roads and paths were wet after the rain and the forest in particular had that fresh rain smell.
For much of the morning the path followed the line of a railway line, which was sometimes at the same level as the Camino, but more often was on a concrete viaduct high above.
At various points, I caught up with and chatted to my South African and Italian friends.
The forecast rain came. But then lasted just long enough to fight my way into my poncho, usually with the assistance of a passing pilgrim to help get it over my backpack. It then stopped raining almost immediately, and so the poncho came back off again.
After 15 minutes, the rain did the same trick again. On went the poncho, this time long enough to enjoy the personal sauna effect inside. And then the rain stopped again.
A few pilgrims kept their ponchos on but most were doing the same routine as me.
For the last few km into Caldas de Reis, I chatted to 2 British pilgrims, a father and daughter. The father was a retired investment manager. Before we knew it, we’d covered the remaining distance and had arrived in Caldas de Reis, a town known for its hot springs since at least the Middle Ages.
I was feeling hungry and spotted a cafe in the middle of the town. I selected a chicken salad, which was very good.
Once I’d eaten, I located the town’s central bus stop, which turned out to be a minute away from the cafe. I needed to catch the next bus to Padrón, tomorrow’s destination, not because I wasn’t planning to walk there but because the only accommodation I’d been able to find, when searching last night, was a private albergue in Padrón.
The bus was a little late, which seems routine for Spanish local buses (at least based on my limited experience) but after only 25 minutes we’d covered 20km and were pulling into Padrón’s estación de autobús.Read more
Exploring Pontevedra
September 29 in Spain ⋅ 🌧 21 °C
The Xunta albergue is about 1.5km from the old city centre of Pontevedra.
Just on the edge of the old city, I found a bar for a bocadillo (essentially a baguette type sandwich) with delicious Iberian ham for a slightly late lunch.
Once fortified, I made my way first to the Igrexa da Virxe Peregrina (Church of the Pilgrim Virgin). This is a late 18th century church, where the floor plan is in the shape of a scallop shell. The Pilgrim Virgin is the patron saint both of the province of Pontevedra and of the Caminho Português, and is Mary, the mother of Jesus, who is said to have guided pilgrims to Santiago.
Next, I found the Basílica de Santa María a Maior (Basilica of St Mary the Major), which effectively functions as Pontevedra’s cathedral. The church was built in the 16th century at the commission of the local Guild of Seamen. The church was quite beautiful inside, with clear evidence of an active faith community.
I especially liked the installation based on Jesus as the foundation of Living Water (see photo), with a series of panels each beginning with the words “Tengo sed de…” (“I’m thirsty for…”). Working clockwise, the panels read: “I’m thirsty … to keep walking, for your Spirit, to keep seeking you, to know Jesus, to grow in your love, and to encounter Jesus”.
There was also a side chapel set side for prayer, with a very friendly volunteer who was there for anyone who wished to pray with her.
I spent some time in quiet reflection here. A special place and moment.
As I wandered around the city, I found 2 more churches, or rather 2 convents. First was the Ruínas de San Domingos, the ruins of the 13-14th century Dominican Convent. Only part of the chancel remains but even this gives an indication of the splendour of what has been lost.
It turned out that I’d saved the most beautiful church to last. This is the Convento e Igrexa de San Francisco (St Francis’s convent and church). Tradition says that St Francis founded the convent when he passed through Pontevedra as a pilgrim heading to Santiago de Compostela, although the building was built in the 14th century. It was quite dark inside but the stained glass in particular was lovely. Another special place to take time to pause.
I bumped into 3 of my Italian friends inside the church - we agreed it was “Bellissima!”
Outside San Francisco’s, I chatted briefly to an American catholic lady who was similarly moved by the stained glass.
It was then time to grab a quick tapas before the Pilgrim Mass inside the Pilgim Virgin church. I just about followed the liturgy with my bilingual Mass book and went forward for a blessing from the priest.
It had started raining heavily while I’d been eating, and continued after the service. Fortunately I’d taken my poncho with me and so I was able to flip flop back to the albergue relatively dry, except for my feet and ankles.
I had of course kept a careful eye on the time and was back well before 10pm.Read more
Redondela (via Vigo) to Pontevedra
September 29 in Spain ⋅ 🌬 23 °C
I was up early in order to catch the 0650 from Vigo-Guixa station back to Redondela-Picota, which arrived at 0705.
I retraced my steps down from the station, which was on the level of the viaducts high above the town, to find the Camino in the pre-dawn darkness. Initially, it was easy to see by the glow of the streetlights but as the trail left the fringe of the town, a head torch was necessary. Rain was forecast and so I’d put the raincover on my rucksack and had my poncho in easy reach.
I stopped for breakfast at a bar after a few km. Once I set off again, there was sufficient light to see without the torch.
Ever since leaving Redondela, the path had mostly been ascending and now through woodland. Eventually, half an hour or so after breakfast, the brief glimpses of the waters of the Ria de Vigo to my left opened up into a proper view across the ria, now far below me.
The path continued through the wood covered hillside, with better and better views of the ria, and even as far as the Ponte de Rande cable stayed bridge that I’d seen from the train to Vigo yesterday.
The Camino then descended into Arcade, where a friend who’s now ahead of me stayed last night. I bumped into the friendly Italian couple and it was lovely to chat to them for while as we walked, having not previously got beyond brief greetings and lots of smiles. Fortunately the lady spoke some English, as I speak as much Italian as the man spoke English!
Arcade gave way to Pontesampiao and its medieval bridge across the Rio Verdugo, which feeds into the Ria de Vigo.
The path climbed steeply again after the bridge, past vegetable gardens and we were soon back in woodland where the track turned into a rocky path across boulders and rocks.
There was a makeshift cafe at the top of the hill, where I paused for a coffee and to catch my breath.
The Camino soon descended once more through woods and countryside, and along some quiet lanes.
A couple of km before today’s destination of Pontevedra, the Camino came to a junction. The main route continued to the right, whereas the left led to a ‘complementary’ path which was slightly longer but prettier, passing through woods and following the line of a stream. I decided on the latter and got chatting to a Catholic man from California.
As the stream meandered vaguely in the direction of Pontevedra, it began to feel that we might be walking in circles, never to escape the woodland. It started spitting, but not really enough to justify putting a waterproof on.
A little later (and still following the woodland path), I caught up with 2 Spanish brothers and their wives, who I’d briefly encountered earlier this morning at a wayside stop for a sello (stamp). At this first meeting, the Spaniards were most entertained that I bore a striking resemblance to a gif they’d just received from a friend: a man on the Camino with a blue t-shirt, white beard and a hat!
This time we introduced one another and I chatted to one of the men for a while. They were from Barcelona, and the 2 men were retired doctors.
The path through the woods finally turned left and through a tunnel beneath a railway line and we were in Pontevedra, and a few hundred metres from the entrance to the Xunta/municipal albergue where I hoped to stay.
In contrast to Redondela, this albergue is rather larger, with 86 beds. About 40 minutes before opening, there was a long line of rucksacks at the entrance gate, with some of their owners standing close by, and others had gone to a nearby supermarket or bar.
This time I was in the 60s according to someone else’s count, and my South African friends were a bit further ahead of me, but we were all comfortably within the albergue’s capacity.
I chatted to a couple of young men from Barcelona, who were immediately ahead of me in the queue, before leaving my rucksack in line and going to chat with the South African family who were sitting outside a bar across the street, with another lady from South Africa.
When the albergue opened at 1pm, the line moved forward to the main door and entrance canopy. Before I reached the shelter, the rain finally came and, like everyone else, quickly donned my poncho. The queue moved rapidly and I was soon able to take the poncho off.
Eventually, it was my turn at the front of the queue and I was delighted to be allocated a lower bunk. It was then time for the usual routine, and then I set off to find lunch and to explore Pontevedra.Read more
O Porriño to Redondela/Vigo: up and steeply down
September 28 in Spain ⋅ ⛅ 23 °C
I slept pretty well despite the musical disruption and was up and out a little before 8. There was already no sign at all of the large stage at the top of the road from the albergue.
I found a busy cafe for breakfast and was soon on the road out of O Porriño. This part of Galicia is known as Spain’s granite country and large amounts of granite blocks are everywhere, even forming garden boundaries. The road (and it was mostly road initially) wound between several small villages before arriving an Mos, a pretty large village where some of my friends stayed last night.
There was also plenty of countryside between the villages, as the Camino began to climb out of the Loura valley. The distance to Santiago shown on the Galician concrete markers fell below 100km and now seems to be falling more rapidly - although that’s probably due to the ever present markers now I’m in Galicia.
After a coffee stop in Mos, the path climbed more steeply through woodland. There were several people offering wax sellos for our credentials. I stopped for the first but passed the rest.
With a glimpse of the ria de Vigo and Redondela far ahead, the path began to descend, gently at first. But then more steeply, including one part that was incredibly steep.
Redondela gradually got close enough to see the couple of cast iron railway viaducts which pass above the tiles roofs of the town. There’s also one much newer viaduct, I suspect part of Spain’s high speed network.
I arrived in Redondela and made my way to the Xunta municipal albergue, where I hoped to stay. I knew this albergue was smaller than some, with only 35 beds. In addition, this elite me who been on the Central Português been joined today by those walking the coastal route.
When I arrived there were at least 45-50 people ahead of me, including the South African family, who were also placed in the low 40s. There were also plenty of folk behind me. I got chatting to a man from the Wirral, who was walking back to Porto to meet his wife, having been to Santiago.
At 1pm the queue began to move forward as the doors opened. The talk in the queue beyond the 35 beds was that some guidebooks and apps showed the albergue had at least another 10 beds and so there was hope that there might be some form of overflow arrangements.
Alas, as my South African friends were almost at the door, word came back that the albergue was full and they wished the rest of us a Buen Camino and good luck finding accommodation.
The remaining crowd dispersed, disheartened, with concerned heads in guidebooks and phones, searching for somewhere to stay.
I decided I was hungry and so headed into a nearby cafe to get lunch whilst I worked out what I was doing. Whilst in the queue, I’d messaged the 10 next largest albergues to ask if they had space, notwithstanding that the online booking suggested they were full.
I rapidly decided that I’d need to look outside Redondela, and so considered several options with available beds or rooms and the potential transport connections (and the cost, as all of these were going to be more than the 10€ for the Xunta).
I ended up booking a room in Vigo, a bigger city only 15 minutes away by train. This was in a cheap-ish hotel, 15-20 minutes walk from the station. This turned out to be in the Santiago district of Vigo, with a church dedicated to Santiago (St James) a few streets away.
Having a proper bed with proper sheets etc and en-suite facilities seemed like luxury compared to the usual arrangement in an albergue. Doing my laundry in the tiny sink in the bathroom was slightly tricker but do-able.Read more
Valença/Tui to O Porriño: Not quite as planned
September 27 in Spain ⋅ ☁️ 22 °C
I emerged from my hotel at 5.50am (WEST) to meet my pre-booked Uber. After 10 mins, the app wasn’t giving any confidence that a driver was actually on their way and so I cancelled, girded my loins and flip flopped back across Valença towards Spain.
When I arrived at the albergue front door at 7.30am (CEST), someone was fortunately coming out for a smoke and so I was able to regain access.
Once ready to leave at about 8, I stepped back outside knowing I needed to get cracking to have a chance of a bed at the Xunta albergue at O Porriño.
Today’s leg involved 2 alternative routes. The traditional route passes a large industrial estate along a busy road to the edge of O Porriño, whereas the recommended alternative route was slightly longer but mostly follows a river through countryside to O Porriño.
I had intended to take the latter path, and everyone I’d spoken to was planning on the same.
However, with the extra 6+km in flip flops last night and this morning, which gave me my first blister of this trip, I decided to flip the 6 km or so to the hotel in Valença and back again with part of today’s walk.
I therefore walked part of the way on the traditional route towards the industrial estate, in order to the get an uber 7km forwards to the edge of O Porriño (and thus avoiding the worst of this route). This also had the advantage of catching up some time and so I was in the queue outside the Xunta albergue in good time to get a bed.
As I arrived in O Porriño, it was clear something was afoot as there were loads of locals thronging the streets. It turns out that today (Sunday) is the highlight of a huge festival called “Festas do Cristo” (“Festivals of Christ”) with at least 3 stages constructed or being constructed during the afternoon.
I whiled away most of the queuing time with some South African friends who are big rugby fans, and who were watching the Australia v South Africa match. Probably safest not to mention the outcome!
After the usual ablutions and unpacking, I headed into the town centre to see what was happening.
As I rested in one bar, it was fascinating to watch some of the festival crew position and then assemble one of the stages from the back of an articulated lorry.
As well as performances from the stages (which in the afternoon seemed mostly to be a children’s show), several bands were wandering around playing as they went.
I managed to miss some traditional Galego (Galician) music whilst I was having dinner and then, perhaps especially watchful of the time, I made sure I was securely inside the albergue well before the 10pm witching hour.
10pm was also the start of the main headline concert, on a stage just at the top of the road from the albergue. We didn’t need to leave the albergue to listen… until 2.30am when the music finally stopped.Read more
TravelerOh Iain what a challenging time you've had. I know so often on multi day walks I'm operating on the limits of what I can manage and the spectre of a potential night on the streets sounds horrid. I do hope you've managed to "settle" again. I'm praying for your physical, emotional and spiritual protection and well-being and for God to be ever present.
Tui catedral and an error of timing
September 26 in Portugal ⋅ ☁️ 21 °C
The Catedral de Santa María de Tui is beautiful and holds a dramatic position at the top of the hill from which the old city cascades.
Building began in the 11th century, resulting in a late Romanesque structure said to be modelled in part upon the cathedral in Santiago de Compostela.
The building was modified in the 13th century, adding the Gothic western facade (first picture above), said to be the first gothic work on the Iberian peninsula. The cloister was added at a similar time, the only Gothic cloister preserved in all Galicia.
The lower, internal supporting arches throughout the nave and transepts were also Gothic additions.
After getting my credencial stamped, I qualified for the slightly reduced entry price, which included audioguide in slightly stilted English, but it explained all one needed to know about the cathedral. Except, that is, the reason for the plastic baubles festooned across the nave, which didn’t seem to go with anything else.
After leaving the cathedral, I found a comfortable spot in a bar to try and catch up on my blogging.
I had been keeping my eye on my watch because my albergue was due to shut the external door at 10pm, and I set off back when I thought I had plenty of time to return in time.
What I had failed to factor in was that, unlike my phone, my watch was still on Portuguese time (WEST).
By 9.50pm WEST, it was in fact 10.50pm CEST in Spain. I was therefore too late to get back in.
After hanging about by the door and banging on the door, to see if anyone would come, I realised I was not going to enjoy the delights of the plastic mattress and paper sheet inside.
After my initial panic subsided, I looked at the options. There did not appear to be any hotels or similar in Tui with 24 hour receptions, or at least not that had any space. I realised of course that although it was by now after 11pm in Spain, it was still an hour earlier on the other side of the Miño/Minho, back in Valença.
Booking.com showed a couple of possible hotels which were still open, the closest of which was about 3km away, across the bridge. I tried to find a taxi or Uber to take me there but to no avail. I had little option but to set off, in my flip flops and otherwise bare feet. Whilst flip flopping back to the bridge and Portugal, I booked a room and gave my eta, which was accepted.
When I finally staggered into reception, I at least had my passport to hand and a phone charger but no other luggage - which was of course safely inside the albergue.
I then set about working out how to get back to the albergue in time to pack etc and get ready to leave before the 8am cut off. I booked a pre-ordered Uber, in good time to walk back if it failed to show.Read more
Rubiães to Tui: Tchau Portugal & Hola España!
September 26 in Spain ⋅ ☁️ 28 °C
Today was the final stage in Portugal and traditionally ends either in Valença, on the Portuguese side of what they call the Rio Minho, or in Tui on the Spanish side of what they call the Rio Miño. I was planning to head to Tui, and bid farewell to Portugal, at least until my return journey via Porto.
I packed up and set off in the chilly morning, with an extra layer on for the first time on this trip.
At the exact moment I passed the other albergue along the road, my Dutch friend appeared at the gate and so we agreed to walk together initially. He was going to stay at an albergue which he knew very well (this is at least his fourth Portuguese Caminho), which was less than halfway to Tui.
Much of the Camino in this area follows the line of a Roman road, built by the Romans to connect various cities and their silver mines.
The path took us over a Roman stone bridge across a small river, just below the albergues and we the stopped at a bar at the far end of Rubiães for breakfast and immediately met some of our Canadian friends, and so we all continued together.
The path once more took us into very pretty countryside. We had a small ascent today, as we left one valley, to enter the Minho valley.
We also caught up with, and then walked with a very friendly Italian couple from Bergamo who we’d all crossed paths with a number of times. They didn’t speak much English but always greeted those of us with limited or no Italian very warmly with lovely smiles.
After a coffee stop, the Canadians and Italians went ahead and then a little later I bid my Dutch friend farewell when he stopped again for a break because he had time to kill before his albergue opened.
As I enjoyed time on my own, the Camino eventually approached the outskirts of the modern border city of Valença, which sits below the old fortified city. Urban sprawl finally gave way to Vauban-style 18/19th century fortifications.
I met up again with 2 of my Canadian friends as we entered the old city and agreed to have lunch together, before I had a little wander around Valença.
I couldn’t resist a pastel de nata from a cafe with a sign offering “the last pastel de nata in Portugal”. I think they meant to say “my last chance” to have this Portuguese delicacy before the border, rather than that I was about to extinguish the country’s entire supply!
I then passed though a gate in the fortifications to descend to the International Bridge leading to Spain. The bridge carries rail traffic on the top level, with vehicles and pedestrians on the lower deck.
Once across the Miño, I checked my phone had adjusted to the change in time zone, Spain being on CEST (rather than the same time as BST). I then followed the arrows into Tui’s historic centre, which is surmounted by the cathedral. The Xunta albergue, run by the Galician regional government, is tucked behind the cathedral.
When I went to check in, the lady rattled off some serious sounding Spanish, which I didn’t follow and she said she didn’t speak English. With help from Google Translate, it turned out that she only had top bunks left. She apparently assumed I would not wish to accept and seemed surprised when I responded positively!
After the usual routine, including changing room-style communal showers (in the Gents, at least) but with a view across the river, I went to explore Tui.Read more
TravelerI'm loving your travelogues, thank you, Iain. I'm tracking your progress on our ancient road atlas - not the best type of map for the purpose but it gives me a better sense of perspective and context on your progress than the tracker (I'm not good with online maps - bit of a paper map and compass girl still🤣)
PdL to Rubiães: The high point of the Caminho
September 25 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 24 °C
I’d scored a top bunk once more, with my Dutch friend below me. It was very warm overnight in the albergue. The air con in the room didn’t seem to make any appreciable difference once switched on and the couple of fans successfully pushed the warm air around the room. Consequently, I didn’t have the most restful of nights.
Most of our roommates were away a little before my Dutch friend and I, but we strode back to the centre of Ponte de Lima to find breakfast, before readying ourselves for the highest point of the Caminho Português.
We crossed the old bridge over the Lima, and were quickly into beautiful countryside.
Before long the path started to climb, gently at first, as we began to leave the Lima valley behind.
Some of our roommates, who’d left just ahead of us, had stopped at a cafe and so my Dutch friend and I joined them for a second breakfast. I noticed that they were serving a Portuguese brewer’s Radler, effectively a lager shandy pre-mixed with cloudy lemonade, and so had to order one!
We were soon back on our way, following the Camino through quiet lanes and mostly woodland tracks, which passed underneath a motorway a couple of times, with traffic rushing by far above us.
A couple of hours later, we reached the penultimate bar before the serious part of today’s climb began. Some friends from Fernanda’s, who we’d not seen for a day or so, had just had lunch and recommended the freshly grilled barbecue chicken and salad.
One of our friends had managed to lose one of her walking shoes the day before, and so had had to retrace her steps to find it, aided by reports from various pilgrims (on hearing of my friends plight) who had seen a shoe on the trail. She had however successfully recovered her shoe and was about to head back to the hostel where she’d stayed the night before and where she’d left her pack.
Having caught up with more friends from Fernanda’s at the cafe, we set off again but soon became more spread out along the trail as it became steeper and steeper, towards the Alto da Portelo Grande, the “mountain” of the Caminho Português.
This is really a large hill, some 410m above sea level, although we left Ponte de Lima at only 5m above sea level. The Camino climbs some 300m over only 4km, and in places is a steep scramble between huge granite boulders and loose stones.
Near the summit, the path passes the Cruz dos Franceses (Frenchmen’s Cross), which is treated a little like the Cruz de Ferro on the Camino Frances, and many pilgrims leave stones and other mementos at this stone cross.
Eventually, I reached the top and caught up with my friends who’d gone ahead. The summit was deep in woodland and so there was no view to reward our efforts, and it was simply time to descend into the next valley.
As the path returned to more gentle gradients, I walked with one of my Israeli friends for much of the descent, sharing stories about our lives.
I’d planned to stop at the municipal albergue in Rubiães, a tiny village towards which most of my friends were heading. Most of the others were booked into a private albergue about 250m down the road.
The municipal albergue is in the village’s former primary school building, and had plenty of space for pilgrims who (like me) weren’t booking ahead. It was a little on the basic side but for 10€, I certainly wasn’t going to complain. The main room held something close to 30 beds (in bunks) with room for a thin person to pass between the bunks (or a larger person moving sideways!) I was pleased to discover that I was on a bottom bunk this time. In fact, I think no one had a top bunk last night and there were a few bottom bunks going spare.
There was a tiny bar and micro-supermarket opposite the albergue, and so I headed there for a beer after showering and doing my washing. My Israeli friend from earlier then came in and we continued our earlier conversation.
Meanwhile, the rest of the Fernanda crew plus some additional friends accumulated over the last few days decided to cook for everyone, in the kitchen at the private albergue down the road. We shared some delicious pasta arrabiata cooked by my Italian friend. The owner of the other albergue made her own Vinho Verde, a white wine from this area of Portugal which is known as the Verde (because it’s very green), and there was plenty in the fridge. A couple of us added some red wine and port to supplement the occasion. One of our number was due to celebrate his birthday the next day and so again we sang Happy Birthday and similar songs in all the languages represented.Read more
Vitorino to Ponte de Lima: A shorter day & a swim
September 24 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 27 °C
After an excellent night’s sleep (perhaps aided a little by the wine and port!), we were treated once again to the generous hospitality of Fernanda and Jacinto at breakfast.
Jacinto ushered us all into their kitchen, where a large table was laid, ready for breakfast. There was freshly brewed coffee, boiling water for a selection of teas, hot and cold milk, cereals, yoghurt, melon, bread cheese and chouriço (similar-ish to chorizo), an array of jams and similar, and freshly made scrambled egg. Everything was plentiful and we soon tucked in!
Once I’d eaten my fill, it was time to put my boots on and prepare to leave. I had a farewell hug from Fernanda and hit the road a little after 8am.
Partly to facilitate a stay at Casa da Fernanda, I (and most of my new friends) had a relatively short walk to Ponte de Lima, some 13-14km away.
I began walking alone, enjoying the cooler, fresh morning air, as well as the peace amongst the sounds of the local farms and especially the cockerels who seemed to be competing with one another!
After a few km, I stared to see ads for a particular padaria (bakery) in Seara, which said it was initially 4km ahead, and then counted down 1 km at a time. It therefore appeared that the bakery would be close to today’s halfway point and it seemed a suitable stopping point.
As I arrived in the small village of Seara, I spotted some of my new friends from Casa da Fernanda in a different cafe & bakery, and so I joined them there. A few minutes later, a number of the others also arrived to join us! This turned out to be a few doors down from the one advertised, but this one was supposed to be nicer!
After a coffee top up, and a stamp for the credencial, it was time to get going, and this time I walked with some of my new friends.
The path was very pleasant, mostly on tracks and quiet roads between fields, vineyards and lots of chestnut trees. It was also almost all shady, which was most welcome.
Before we knew it, we were entering the town of Ponte de Lima, alongside the Rio Lima and before 12.45.
The local legend, since before the Romans came to these parts, is that entering the river would erase their memories forever! When the Romans arrived under the command of Decimus Junius Brutus in 132 BC, the soldiers initially refused to cross the river (there was no bridge at this point) because of the legend. Brutus therefore rode across the river, and then called out the name of each soldier, demonstrating the falsity of the legend. This is remembered with a sculpture, of the general Brutus on one side and Roman soldiers on the other side.
Our Dutch friend assured us of a little beach just beyond the old bridge, which is part Roman and part medieval reconstruction. We headed to the river bank, and this tiny beach, and decided to risk the legend by jumping into the clear waters of the Lima to cool off. It wasn’t very warm at first but I eventually ventured far enough to dive into the water for refreshing break!
Once dried off, we headed for a bar for lunch. I had intended to stay at the Municipal Albergue but many of my new friends were staying at another Albergue, which had room for another 5 of us.
Once checked in, we were given a wax stamp in our credentials and then set about the usual routines.
I decided to head back into the town to explore a little before my new friends had arranged to meet for dinner.
I also needed to acquire some new ferrules for my walking poles, to replace the brand new ones I’d bought specifically for this trip, but which had already warn through. The first outdoor shop I encountered had what I needed, as well as another stamp for my credencial.
I then found the main church, the Igreja Matriz de Santa Maria dos Anjos, and went to have a look around. Shortly after my arrival, some sort of service began, led by 3 nuns sitting in the pews at the front. I took a seat and listened in. With my extremely limited Portuguese (even armed with the Mass liturgy on Portuguese and English), I am pretty this wasn’t the Mass (which was not due to start for an hour) but it appeared to be a ‘warm-up’ service, involving the display pre-consecrated host and potentially the Rosary. I was able to join in with some of the repeated refrains of the sung worship, but it was hard to follow.
At the appointed hour, the nuns then started to lead the Mass liturgy which I could follow in part. However, I was only able to stay for half of the Mass before it was time for dinner.Read more
Barcelinhos to Vitorino: A good day (and evening!)
September 23 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 31 °C
I left my albergue at just before 8, and crossed the bridge from Barcelinhos to Barcelos, in search of breakfast. Thankfully, it was a little cooler then.
I found somewhere in the old city and liked the sound of “tosta ovos mexidos”, which I guessed might be Mexican eggs and which sounded good. However it turned out to be scrambled eggs on toast, which were very good.
I stopped for a little while at the octagonal Igreja do Senhor Bom Jesus da Cruz de Barcelos (the Church of the Good Jesus of the Cross) which commemorates a miraculous black earthen cross reported at the site in December 1504. The current church was built in the early 18th century.
As I neared the edge of Barcelos where the Camino branched off into the countryside, a fellow pilgrim caught up with me, a Dutchman from near Maastricht. He turned out to have stayed the same albergue last night, although we’d not actually spoken properly.
Even more of a coincidence was that he was also heading to the same albergue for tonight: the legendary hospitality at Casa da Fernanda. In fact, my new friend had stayed there at least 11 times already! This albergue only has about 14 beds and so it is usually vital to have booked a little in advance- which I had!
My Dutch friend and I walked together for most of the day, sharing stories of the Caminos (he usually walks at least 2 Caminos every year). He said he couldn’t always remember the hills or precise directions, but he knew exactly where all the bars are!
Today’s path involved one long hill (not v high at all) and fortunately there was a convenient bar just at the top, where we sought cold drinks and a welcome rest for our feet, and a chance to take off our backpacks.
Early in the afternoon, as the heat returned, we met 2 Californian pilgrims, who were also booked with Fernanda, and the four of us walked together for the last hour or so of the journey.
When we arrived finally at Casa da Fernanda, we were all pretty bushed by the heat and very shade, but it had been much easier walking whilst concentrating on our conversations.
Fernanda was ready to distribute ice cold water, and even water with sugar and salt for those most in need of electrolytes.
We checked in one by one, and were shown to our rooms. Most of us were in the communal room (no bunks and proper sheets etc), and the Californians and the Dutchman each had private rooms.
Once unpacked, showered and clothes washed, we gathered in the lounge area in the shade under a large lean-to. There we found large jugs of Sangria and White wine, plus beers more chilled water.
Once most of the day’s pilgrims had arrived, Fernanda appeared with a large platter of Padron peppers and cod fish cakes.
By dinner time, there were 2 Brits (me and a young woman from London), the 2 Californians, a Texan (who’d been born in Coventry), a lady from New York, 2 ladies from Israel (who’d only met the day before), 4 Canadian ladies (from Ontario, Vancouver and Winnipeg), and Italian man and the Dutchman.
Fernanda and Jacinto (Fernanda’s husband) called us over to the large dining table along one side of the lean-to.
We shared a delicious chicken and bean dish, a vegetable curry and some fish dish (which I didn’t try), plus tomatoes, rice and bread. And lots more wine and water.
Once we’d eaten and the plates were cleared away, Fernanda brought bottles of Tawny and White Port to the table.
Fernanda then led us in a prayer, before the lights were extinguished and Jacinto brought a cake with lit candles for the birthday of one of the Canadian ladies. We then sang Happy Birthday and equivalent songs in each language represented (and led by those who spoke each language).
Next Fernanda appeared with a guitar, hoping one of our number could play. Alas, no one had such skills and so Jacinto appeared with a karaoke speaker and bundle of printed song lyrics. We resorted to Spotify, with the entertaining result that the printed words didn’t always match the recordings being played!
After several songs in English, we sang several Italian, Spanish and Portuguese songs, mostly led our Italian DJ and lead dancer, who with Fernanda’s help got most of us dancing in the garden, while a few of us stayed at the table with one or two more glasses of port or wine.
Eventually, it was time for us all to turn in!Read more
Vila do Conde/Rates to Barcelinhos
September 22 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 32 °C
When originally planning today’s leg, I’d ended up with an unavoidable 28km-30km stage today or tomorrow, as I crossed from the Littoral route to the Central Caminho Português about 13km or 8 miles inland.
On the basis that I already potentially needed a taxi back to the centre of Vila do Conde and with inland temperatures likely to be of the order of 32C, I decided to take a taxi all the way to São Pedro de Rates, and so reduce today’s stage to 15.8km or some 10 miles. I was also aware that the couple of options for connecting routes are largely (and part busy) road and not highly rated.
São Pedro de Rates is named for St Peter of Rates, who is said to have been a contemporary of St James (Santiago) when he was here on the Iberian peninsula, in 44 AD, and allegedly ordaining Peter as the first of Braga at Easter 45 AD. If the James who is recorded as being beheaded in Acts 12 v1-4 in Jerusalem at Easter 44 AD, this would appear to render this legend rather unlikely (although there are other potential Jameses who could have been in Jerusalem).
The other parallels between Santiago and São Pedro is that he was also beheaded, apparently in Rates, and later Pedro’s grave was lost only to be discovered under a bright star on a field in the 9th Century.
From the 11th century there was a large monastery here in Rates, of which only the Romanesque church and bell tower remain.
I grabbed a quick coffee and breakfast in a bar in Rates, and then struck off to the north following the plentiful shell and arrow markers.
The path led out of the village and onto a dirt track which led between fields, and on one side I could see a tractor pulling a muck spreader across a field.
Before long the path led up hill, which was hard work in the increasing heat. There was at least intermittent shade under occasional large trees or buildings on the sunny side of the path.
When there was no shade, it was incredibly hot but I kept drinking water and stopping whenever there was shade.
Roughly halfway, I found a restaurant in Pedra Furada, which was air conditioned! I enjoyed a ham, cheese and tomato sandwich and some cold drinks. Eventually, I had to venture back into the heat once more.
There were a few other pilgrims at the restaurant and I saw a few others throughout the afternoon.
The path was a mix of fairly quiet country lanes (with the odd tractor and other traffic) and some tracks. After several smaller hills (compared with the first ascent) the route started to descend towards the Cavado valley.
I was aiming for an albergue in Barcelinhos, which precedes its much larger neighbour Barcelos on the far side of a medieval bridge. It turned out this albergue had plenty of space.Read more
Testing the water- in the Atlantic
September 21 in Portugal ⋅ 🌙 20 °C
After the usual ablutions for me and today’s walking clothes, I noticed that it wasn’t long to sunset and so I wandered no more than 10m from my hostel’s front door to reach the sea wall with access down to a section of beach.
Soon enough, the sky turned orange as the sun eventually slipped below the horizon. It really was quite beautiful to sit in silence watching the scene develop.
There were just a handful of folk on or near the beach, although maybe the spectacle wears off if you live here!
I decided it would be a waste of a lovely quiet beach if I didn’t venture across the sand to the water’s edge. It would also potentially be good for my feet too.
I can report that the Atlantic was not warm, even after the heat of the day. What was much warmer was the concrete sea wall I’d been sitting on to watch the sunset. As the air finally cooled a little (down to about 24C) the concrete was still toasty warm.
I then took a wander along the promenade in search of a restaurant and some dinner.Read more
Matosinhos to Vila do Conde (Littoral)
September 21 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 25 °C
The temperature stayed at about 24C overnight, resulting in a broken night’s sleep.
By about 6am, some of my hostel-mates were preparing to depart and not doing so quietly!
I got up at 7.30 after the initial rush, packed and left the hostel just before 8am. The forecast was for another hot day and so I probably should have got underway earlier in order to make the most of the cooler morning.
After a brief stop for breakfast in a nearby bar, I headed toward the Ponte móvel de Leça, a large bridge across the Rio Leça and the port of Leixões, Portugal’s second largest artificial port. The bridge is said to be the fourth largest opening bridge in world 92m wide and with 10m clearance with the bridge closed. Until a few weeks ago, the bridge was closed for maintenance, with a shuttle bus to the next bridge upstream, but it has fortunately reopened, although the works continue.
Once across the bridge the familiar scallop shell signs and arrows appeared, interspersed with yellow arrows painted on the road or pavement. This time, they were for the Senda Littoral, my path for one more day.
Initially, the path followed the wide promenade along the sea front of Leça de Palmeira, as far as the Boa Nova lighthouse, where the first boardwalk began.
This is a wooden walkway raised a little above the dunes and vegetation. These boardwalks formed the majority of today’s journey, enabling fairly quick progress as the wooden slats often had a little flex and so at points I was almost bouncing along, to the extent that my fitness tracker thought I was on an elliptical trainer!
There were quite a few pilgrims on the road, and I caught up with several from last night’s hostel.
As the sun grew hotter and hotter, there was at least a pleasant offshore breeze. But there was little shade most of the time and so I stopped at a convenient bar at Cabo do Mundo (Cape of the World), where a group of 8 Korean (?) pilgrims were also taking a break. This group stayed at my hostel last night and I suspected were those who weren’t the quietest first thing this morning.
After about 11am, this suddenly changed to a much cooler onshore breeze, which was refreshing.
I pushed on, aiming to stop for lunch at roughly the halfway point for today. I ended up overshooting this a little, and stopped in the pretty village of Vila Chã.
Just before the village was a memorial commemorating the emergency landing of a British Lancaster bomber on the beach in 1943, with all the crew rescued by local fishermen. The bomber had been on a raid in southeast France, before being damaged by antiaircraft fire and then got lost in bad weather, to discover they were over Spain and so they headed for neutral Portugal to try and land somewhere.
I found a busy looking bar in Vila Chã, and got chatting to 4 South African pilgrims (2 brothers and their wives). We chatted rugby and football (they knew far more than me an about Coventry City’s promotion to the Premier League! I then discovered that this bar wasn’t serving food today and so I decided to carry on and I shortly found a cafe a little further through the village.
I thought I’d try a Francesinha, which means a ‘little French’. It is said that this is the Portuguese version of a croque monsieur, except that the sandwich contains ham, steak and a spicy sausage cut lengthways, with melted mozzarella on top and the whole thing sits in a bowl of tomatoey sauce. It was very tasty but not quite what I expected (especially in terms of size!)
It was then time to continue. On the next stretch of boardwalk, elevated across the back of a small beach, a section of walkway had collapsed and was replaced by a wooden staircase down to the beach, and another stairway back up to the walkway on a little further across the beach.
I stoped again for cold drinks and a break at another bar at Cabreiro. And then I had just a couple more kilometres to Vila do Conde, tonight’s destination.
I paused briefly in a tiny roadside chapel, with a friendly man who stamped my credencial and warmly wished me a ‘Bom Caminho’.
The path crossed a large modern bridge over the Rio Ave and led into the centre of Vila do Conde. My accommodation for tonight ended up being further out of town than I had anticipated and was actually in the next town along the coast, Caxinas. With the heat and repeated breaks, time was short before they were due to close. I therefore jumped in a taxi and made it just in time.
I was delighted to see that my request for a lower bunk had been granted. And this hostel also had a sea view from the room!Read more
Porto to Matosinhos (Littoral)
September 20 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 29 °C
I finally set out on the Senda Littoral late morning. This route tracks the path of the Douro out to its mouth, near Foz do Douro, and then onto Matosinhos.
The Senda Littoral isn’t an official path and so I initially found arrow markers for the Caminho da Costa (Coastal Caminho) which isn’t the same thing as the Littoral, and here was going in the wrong direction.
Lots of pilgrims opt for the Littoral, which involves walking alongside the river, and then the sea, instead of what is said to be a dull, interminable urban sprawl as the Cental and Coastal routes leave Porto together (and some way inland).
As I took more or less any road from below the catedral, as long as it was going downhill, I initially passed the Porto Pilgrim office. Then the roads dropped more steeply to appear at the riverside and Praça da Ribeira (Ribeira Square). The sun was shining brightly and glistening on the water.
From shortly before the square, I had suddenly been aware of the many peregrinos heading the way I was going, and I swiftly joined them. I first found myself amongst a large group of Québécois pilgrims, and we were soon greeting one another with ‘Bom Caminho’ (the Portuguese equivalent of the Spanish ‘Buen Camino’ or ‘Good way/journey’).
The path wasn’t v shady and the sun, as forecast, was very hot. As the line of pilgrims mostly followed the riverside path, with the Douro on one side and a road on the other, we each diverted into any shade that was available!
At one point the pavement and road followed a graceful curve on what was effectively a bridge over the river - which was disconcertingly visible through the metal mesh gratings which formed the pavement!
The scenery was lovely, but my attention was focussed on spotting the most shady line to take, even when this meant staying closer to the road, where an intermittent line of trees provided some welcome respite from the heat.
I stopped for drink at a shady river side cafe, and spoke briefly to some South African pilgrims who’d had the same idea. Our paths crossed several times later on, as either I or they paused in some shade to be overtaken until the next shady spot.
Roughly level with the river mouth and the start of the Atlantic Ocean, which was also more or less halfway, I followed the shade into the centre of Foz do Douro to find some lunch.
By this point the bulk of the pilgrim traffic had spread out. It was interesting to see how some of the people I passed would smile and wish me a Bon Caminho, including a man in a convertible car who stopped at a zebra crossing, but lots didn’t. The seashore path and road were certainly pretty busy with local and other tourists, and so I guess there’s much less dependency upon the passing pilgrims, compared to some places on the Camino Frances.
Finally, my destination Matosinhos, a busy fishing port with a large sandy beach, came into view. I soon started checking the location of my hostel for tonight, in order to follow the most shady route!
As I crossed the road barely 20m from the Fishtail Seahouse hostel, I met a friendly German man from Hamburg, who was also staying in the same place.
On arrival, there was a slight hiccup in relation to my bed. At about lunchtime, I’d received an email to the effect that the hostel was not staffed because it was the weekend, and proving a code to gain access and details of my bed: no. 6 in the Azul (Blue Room). There were stern warnings about only using the assigned bed, else the risk of a charge for 2 beds.
However, when I located the Azul room and Bed 6, it was like the scene in Goldilocks (minus the porridge or broken furniture). Someone else’s stuff was on the bed and in the assigned locker. After a couple of calls to the manager, who fortunately spoke good English and some detective work on my part, we ascertained that the person who should have been in Verde 6, had inadvertently ended up in Azul 6.
I am pleased to report that Verde 6 is perfectly fine, albeit another top bunk (as was Azul 6 too!).
I soon fell back into the standard Camino routine, of setting up my bed, a pleasant and cool shower, and the washing of my dirty clothes, and then a rest…Read more
Sé do Porto
September 20 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C
Before leaving Porto, I wanted to visit the cathedral, not least to collect their stamp in my credencial.
My first task, however, was to pack my bag and check out. Fortunately, the hostel were happy to hold onto my bag until I was ready to set off.
I’d tried to go to the cathedral yesterday but there was a huge queue. This morning at shortly after 9.30am, there was no queue at all.
The cathedral isn’t huge in comparison with some cathedrals but has been here since the 12th century, with various Gothic alterations in the 13th to 14th centuries, followed by a Baroque remodelling inside and out in the 17th and 18th centuries. The Gothic changes included the addition of a cloister and the later additions brought lots of blue and white azulejos tiles especially in the cloister.
It was good to pause and pray for a while in a place that’s echoed with faithful worship for centuries.
I then took a turn around the 2 level cloister, which is particularly nice, before tackling the granite stairs to the top of one of the towers. The views around Porto, Gaia and the Douro were lovely as you can see.
I had a quick pitstop for a coffee near the catedral before returning to collect my bag and set off on the Caminho Português.Read more
Lots of fun exploring Porto and Gaia
September 19 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 29 °C
I’ve spent a fun afternoon exploring more of Porto and Vila Nova de Gaia (on the opposite bank of the Duoro).
This included crossing the high level of the Ponte Luís I, an iron bridge designed by one of Gustav Eiffel’s students. The top deck carries pedestrians and metro/trams 40m above the lower deck, which carries road traffic and pedestrians. As you’ll see the views from the bridge are pretty spectacular, and the view of the bridge itself and the historic centre of Porto behind from the Jardim do Moro is the classic Porto panorama.
I found a little cafe for lunch which specialised in Porto’s steak sandwich, the Prego (which apparently means “nail”).
I took a tour at the Taylor’s Port Lodge, with an audio guide which told the story of Taylor, Fladgste & Yeatman, founded in 1692. Perhaps this is an occupational hazard but the full sounds like a law firm to me!
Then the tour took us into the main Lodge building which is really just a huge old warehouse full of maturing vintage bottles of port. The smell of the port vapour permeating through the oak barrels was divine!
The tour continued to explain all one needs to know about port production and export (and more besides).
Finally, the tour finished in a pretty garden for a (generous) taste of 3 famous Taylor’s port wines: the Chip Dry extra dry white port, a Lare Bottled Vintage (form a single year’s grapes, which are matured for 4 or so years) and a 10 year old Tawny Port. All were delicious.
I then crossed back to Porto in search of Porta 4 (Door No. 4), the tiny restaurant where this morning’s tour guide works as a chef, where I’d booked a table for dinner. (See https://restauranteporta4.eatbu.com/?lang=en).
The restaurant was incredibly friendly, and everyone was offered a glass of white port as an aperitif on the house. The kitchen was open to the dining room and for most of the evening the brother of one of the waitresses was chef. Jorge popped in at one point - he’d been assigned to the preparation kitchen tonight but it was nice to catch up briefly with him.
Before long I’d struck up a conversation with a mother and daughter from New York and New Jersey, and a couple from Montreal. The latter are starting the Caminho Português in the morning, the husband walked the Caminos Nortes and Primativo in Northern Spain last year.
At the end of the evening, the half of the restaurant who’d finished eating then shared a glass of LBV port with the staff and the chef … I’m going to sleep very well tonight!Read more
Breakfast and a fascinating walk
September 19 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 26 °C
Breakfast at the hostel was a very pleasant affair, with bread, cheese, ham and salami, plus fruit, yoghurt and cereals, and freshly baked chocolate brownies.
I enjoyed a chat with fellow pilgrims from Chicago and Rotterdam (both due to start walking on Monday), and a Moroccan guy who was here on holiday. We put the world to rights for good 45 mins or so over plentiful coffee!
Once refreshed, I got ready for the day and went in search of a man with a white umbrella.
This turned out to be Jorge, who was to be my walking guide for the next couple hours, as well being a chef by night. The tour was really interesting and took us from the 18-19th centuries back to the foundation of what became Porto in pre-Roman times. I got chatting to a lovely couple from Toronto before the tour started and we carried on chatting in the gaps between the tour stops.
The tour started at the Fonte dos Leões (Lion Fountain) which features griffons rather than lions and has an exact twin in Leicester, because King João I (John I) married Phillippa of Lancaster (John of Gaunt’s daughter, who was born at Leicester Castle, in 1387, cementing England and Portugal’s long alliance.
Next we saw the twinned baroque church’s Igreja do Carmo and Igreja dos Carmelitas, with 10,000 hand painted blue and white azulejos tiles forming a fresco on the outside of the latter. The darker blue colouring at the bottom is the true colour, the rest looks faded but is just under a protective covering due to the extensive metro extension building works.
Jorge then took us to a tile shop and gallery to explain the history of azulejos tiles, using techniques borrowed from the Moors and their al-zillīj (little polished stones) and cobalt blue and white glazing borrowed from Delftware in the Netherlands.
We were taken to Jardim da Cordoaria, a park on the site of a former rope factory (cordoaria) and then to the Torre dos Clérigos (and church), a dramatic baroque tower built just outside the original city walls.
We saw the site of the first public hospital in Porto, and then through winding and steep streets to find a posh clothes shop inside a medieval house, to show us the structure of the house and reuse of the huge granite stones.
Finally Jorge took us uphill to finish just outside the Sé do Porto catedral, the site of João I and Phillippa of Lancaster’s wedding.
I thought it was then time to find a shady cafe for a pit stop of Pastel de Nata, washed down with some more coffee!Read more
An early start for a blessing before breakfast
September 19 in Portugal ⋅ 🌙 16 °C
Firstly, I’m pleased to report that I’m not actually marooned on the top of my triple decker bunk bed. Slept ok, although it was pretty noisy with the windows wide open for ventilation. I’d made the schoolboy error of having packed my ear plugs somewhere safe in my pack, but not in the smaller bag I’d taken with me up the mountain/ladder!
I was up and out by just after 6.30 in order to walk the 5 minutes up to the terrace outside Se do Porto, Porto’s cathedral, to join the gathering throng of peregrinos in the pre-dawn gloom. The morning light rapidly began to improve as more and more pilgrims appeared. Some had their packs and looked ready to begin immediately. Others (like me) appeared not planning to start walking this morning.
We were all there for the weekly pilgrim blessing at 7am. A little after 7, a few volunteers from the Pilgrim Office including a priest with his robes. However a South African priest, who was walking with a group of Saffas, offered to lead the blessing and quickly switched into the robes!
We were all then duly blessed, including a sprinkling of holy water!
Next, it was time to head down to the Pilgrim Office, a few streets from the catedral, in order to obtain both a credencial (for collecting stamps) and a scallop shell, the traditional sign of a pilgrim on the way to Santiago.
I then returned to my hostel for breakfast!Read more
Olá de Portugal!
September 19 in Portugal ⋅ 🌙 18 °C
My flight left a few minutes late and we rapidly ascended into the night sky.
After just over 2 hours, we descended over Porto, and turned roughly above the Douro estuary to head along the coast to land at Aeroporto Sá Carneiro a little ahead of schedule. We had to wait for buses to take us to the terminal building but these arrived without much delay.
Francisco Manuel Lumbrales de Sá Carneiro was the Portuguese Prime Minister for only 11 months in 1980, until his untimely death in a plane crash near Lisbon. Sá Carneiro’s small plane was heading towards a political campaign stop in Porto when it crashed after a suspicious explosion, although the official report disputed the presence of a bomb. The crash also killed Defence Minister Adelino Manuel Lopes Amaro da Costa but they only renamed Porto Airport to honour the late Prime Minister.
Despite being prepared with an EU EES app which currently only works in Portugal and Sweden, the automated booth wouldn’t read my passport and so I was sent to the queue for manual processing by a friendly Border Police officer and his fingerprint reader and camera.
I then found my way to the metro station under the airport and had plenty of time to sort out a ticket and board the last metro from the airport tonight.
With one change of metro, and a 30 minute journey, I was soon banging on the door of my hostel at about 1.30am, to be let in by the very friendly night porter, who showed me to my room.
Alas, my bed was not just a top bunk but the top of a triple decker bunk bed, which I just about managed to climb up onto. I am rather less confident about being able to get back down again!!Read more
And he’s off…
September 18 in England ⋅ 🌬 15 °C
Got my packing done and some kind friends have just dropped me at Birmingham airport in readiness for my flight to Porto a little later tonight.
Oddly with more or less the same contents, my rucksack seems less full than my first Camino. However the weight is more or less the same as last: about 8kg (without any water).
I’m as ready as I’ll ever be for this trip. I’ve probably not done enough physical training and certainly not enough consecutive training walks (well, none, in fact). I’ve got a couple of (relatively) easy days at the start which should help.
I’m not especially daunted by the distance that lies ahead, in part because I know I’ve walked at least this far previously.
However, there remain plenty of unknowns and uncertainties. But those are mostly a cause for excitement for all the discoveries that lie ahead on the road to Santiago.
Let’s go!
Ultreia et suseia!
(This is a tradition pilgrim greeting, in Latin and used since medieval times. “Ultreia” means something like ‘go further or let’s go forward’. “Et suseia” was the response, meaning ‘and higher or upward’. )Read more
Countdown to the Caminho Português
September 12 in England ⋅ ☁️ 20 °C
In just a week’s time, I’ll be embarking on my next long walk.
This time I’m aiming to walk 250km (or 155 miles) on the Caminho Português (the Portuguese Way). I’ll be starting at the Sé catedral in Porto, Portugal and am aiming to finish a fortnight later, once again at the catedral in Santiago de Compostela, in northwest Spain.
This will be my second time on the Camino de Santiago or the Way of St James. Once again I will be following in the footsteps of the countless pilgrims who have, since the 12th century, walked across at least Spain and Portugal (and often elsewhere in Europe too) to pay homage to what are said to be the remains of St James or (in Spanish) Sant Iago, buried in this corner of Spain in the 9th century.
However, for me, and at least some of those I’m likely to meet on the Way, this adventure is less about St James and more about walking with James’s Lord and Master, Jesus. I see this very much as a continuing journey of pilgrimage, which others have, aptly, described as a “journey with God and in search of God”. I hope once more to share a little of my discoveries about what this means for me as I walk towards Santiago over the next couple of weeks.
As the days count down to my flight to Porto on Friday evening, I’m excited and, at the same time, slightly nervous about what these weeks will hold. How I will find walking day after day, 2 years after my time on the Camino Frances in the autumn of 2024. (Newer followers can read about my previous adventures on the Camino here: https://findpenguins.com/0ey8lwjktji9k/trip/661…)
The Caminho Português will, I am sure, be both similar and yet different to that experience. I’m looking forward equally to the new experiences as well as some that I am sure will be more familiar.
You are most welcome to join me once more on the Way of St James, by following my progress on this platform.
I’d better start packing soon…
In the meantime, “Bom caminho!”Read more
TravelerWell done, Iain!
Traveler
Have a truly blessed time there!
TravelerWell done, Iain! May God richly bless your time there!