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February - March 2023
A 13-day adventure by Henrythedog Read more
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  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 1

    Departure

    February 28, 2023 in England ⋅ ☁️ 8 °C

    So, we’re off. One might expect my small family to show some concern as to my solo departure?

    Not really.

    MrsHtD, who I love more than I can say, will probably appreciate some time without me getting underfoot so long as sufficient wood is chopped in advance. Even those you love need time apart and I’m very grateful that I’m given my own space not just without complaint, but with encouragement. ❤️

    Henry the (actual) Dog; my constant companion; was dropped off at the boarding kennels into which he ran without a glance backwards. This must be what it’s like to drop your kids off on the first day at school. 50% joy at their self confidence; 50% ‘ungrateful little sod’.

    Whatever. Henry the (actual) Dog’s got a couple of weeks of fighting with half the residents whilst trying to impregnate the other half. He’s 100% dog and second only in my affections to Mrs HtD.

    Arrival in Porto late on a Tuesday is like ‘Saturday night in Toledo, Ohio’; so off to bed with the prospect of a few hours to divide between God and Mammon in the morning before seeking out a train to Barcelos.

    For the statisticians: pack weight 7.5kg; skin-out weight 10.3kg (I wear boots and a high quality 3-layer goretex jacket). It’s not the’ skin-out’ weight which is my problem, it’s the ‘skin-in’.

    I should probably clarify that this is very much a trial run. Last year’s venture onto the Frances (ninth time on Camino) was affected by knee issues, which resulted in scans, consultations and a diagnosis of bilateral osteo-arthritis. 12 months of diet, exercise and physio later and I’m ready to try again. Best to start with an easy one, so fly to Porto; train to Barcelos for the huge weekly market, then train to Valença Two nights in, Tui then set off steadily to Santiago. Staying an extra day in Tui allows me to take a taxi 15k away from Santiago with no bag and stroll back.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    1
    Day 2

    Chucked out of weight-watchers

    March 1, 2023 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 8 °C

    So, an unexpected afternoon in Porto; what to do whilst I rearrange travel.

    I wasn’t intending this; but purely for research purposes, a francesinha is on the menu. The spiritual home of this latter-day speciality appears to be the Café Santiago; so there’s a bit of serendipity. It’s packed, and there’s a queue, which is a good sign and as the only solo diner I’ve got a stool at the bar.

    I’m not usually one for photographing my food, but this deserves it. It’s the kind of menu item which anywhere normal would only list as a joke with either a prize or ‘money back’ promise if you ate it all. The ingredients are listed as: (processed) bread; ‘fresh’ sausage; red sausage; ham, cheese, fried egg and ‘special sauce’. With French fries. It’s going to be a challenge to eat it before the sense of self-loathing overtakes me. As you only live once (probably not for long if this is a typical lunch) I’ve gone for the top of the range into which they’re somehow going to insert a portion of sirloin steak.

    A short time later…

    Well; I couldn’t eat two. That was simultaneously the best thing I’ve eaten in a while but also, by some way, the worst.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    1
    Day 2

    Up the workers!

    March 1, 2023 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 12 °C

    Last nights accommodation was at the Oca Oriental (eastern goose?); which is a bit upmarket for me, but with a late flight I just wanted somewhere close to Campaña station with 24hr reception.

    Perfectly nice hotel, midway between Heroismo and Campaña metro stations. €71 B&B. Got here by 2130 from a flight which landed at 2010.

    Breakfast from 0700 which it useful - a business-oriented clientele lends itself to an early start.

    I haven’t been in Porto for 30 years, regrettably. So long ago that Mrs HtD and I then shared a tent and backpacked throughout the north and the Peneda Geres. My abiding memory is that the Portuguese are, as the late Rev. Edward Crilley would have said ‘a grand bunch of lads’; perhaps prone to melancholy, but fundamentally sound.

    Embarrassingly I speak little Portuguese. On our long ago trip we relied on a BBC cassette ‘Get by in Portuguese’; which combined about 50 phrases with some additional vocabulary and worked surprisingly well. I’ve remembered enough to check in and get a few scoops of beer without resorting to English; which is enough of a success for one evening.

    Delightful morning. Bright sunshine and lots of tiled facades.

    Porto has changed, with a fair bit of development. The Cathedral (Sé) is a constant; the cloisters are much like those of cathedrals throughout Europe, but being Porto every vertical surface is beautifully tiled. There’s a statue of Santiago Peregrino up on the first floor also.

    I thought to go and have a look at the Sao Bento station’s tiles whilst I’m here and have a coffee in the venerable Café Brazil. Something struck me as strange (and I’m not the most observant chap in the world); a complete absence of trains.

    They’re on strike.

    That rather scuppers the plan to go to Barcelos today and Valença tomorrow. Ah, well - nothing that ‘throw money at the problem until it goes away’ can’t solve.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 2

    Porto wrap-up (assuming I find the bus)

    March 1, 2023 in Portugal ⋅ 🌙 8 °C

    So: no prospect of getting to Barcelos today. (I was going specifically to see the huge weekly market tomorrow morning.) I should give an honourable mention to the Hotel Bagoiera in Barcelos with whom I had just made a non-refundable booking and who agreed to cancel free of charge as I couldn’t travel through strike action.

    I returned to the Oca Oriental, to find that the ‘walk-up’ price was €10 lower than last night, which is good. I’ve actually done a full day’s Camino within a 2km square today; mostly hopping from one foot to the other in front of railway departures boards.

    I’ve booked the bus for tomorrow straight to Valença and - out of an abundance of caution - booked the bus as well as the train back from Santiago to Porto for the 11th.

    Having a spare evening I’m off to a short Fado performance back in the centre of town. I need the exercise to counter the calories from lunch.

    The visit to the packed Ideal Clube de Fado was time well spent. Young talented performers passionate about traditional fado.

    Nice people in Porto, also the beers cheap and the food portions approximate to your body-weight

    And so to bed, still digesting lunch.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 3

    I found the bus

    March 2, 2023 in Portugal ⋅ ☀️ 10 °C

    Not the most compelling headline in the world; but I am making progress

    Now then: the inter-modal transport hub that is Campanhā station…

    The long-distance bus terminal is easily found by ignoring anything which looks like a station entrance, heading through an unmarked side-exit in reverse which leads onto the metro platform for the airport; going left to the far end and down the sign-free escalator; along a 200m passage under the station and turning left away from the bus sign. I’m not sure if I’ve bought a bus ticket or applied for the Portuguese secret service.

    Slightly off topic: (yes, I know that’s unusual for me, but ..) I’ve been trying to charge a power-bank all day and it’s not worked. I’ve only just realised that I’ve been in a more upmarket hotel where you have to put your key-card in to put the power on, so of course it’s not charged whilst I’ve been out. I used to know that and use a supermarket loyalty card to bypass the system. Is this age related? In a similar vein, I now have to look at each glove to see what side the thumb’s on before I put it on - but even more - I how have look at each hand to check which side the thumb’s on as well. I’m a former member of MENSA; have a postgraduate degree and used to be on the board of one of the UK’s largest companies.

    Mrs HtD quite reasonably never allows me to use the remote control for the TV and Henry the (actual) dog looks petrified when I’m left in charge of remembering to feed him.

    Back to Portugal:

    I’ve never really liked long distance busses. It’s probably a childhood memory of the occasions when my paternal grandfather was deputed for infant childcare. I and my younger brother were placed on a Preston Corporation bus outside his house with a 4d (that’s pre-1972 UK money) return ticket to the terminus and told to sit still (unaccompanied) until he retrieved us nearly two hours later when returning back the other way. That gave him time for a couple of pints and to get his bets on without anyone finding us home alone. He’d have been locked up for that these days.

    Today it’s a question of ‘will I need to pee?’

     Well we’ll soon know.

    For the purists (which is why I’m not posting direct on Ivar’s forum!) there may be some actual walking on an actual Camino soon. Don’t hold your breath.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 3

    Cross a bridge, lose an hour

    March 2, 2023 in Spain ⋅ ☀️ 14 °C

    What a lovely day; blue skies and sunshine. The scenery of northern Portugal is splendid.

    The bus left fashionably late but made decent time through Braga (where 30 years ago) we queued to see the mummified archbishop - he’s probably still there, I can’t see that they would have got rid of him. You wouldn’t want one in the front room; but if you’ve got one I expect it’s hard to part with). In not entirely Christian fashion the then Archbishop’s Secretary got me hoofed out of my hotel room for drying my smalls in his Grace’s line of sight. My room was opposite his office as luck would have it.

    Road signs on the way bring back memories: Ponte de Barca (Mrs Gómez’ B&B where I got locked out having stayed too late at the fiesta); Ponte de Lima (ox carts with solid wheels at the market); Viana (mozzie bites the size of dinner plates) and Caldas de Geres (where having stayed in a cockroach infested hostal in the middle of nowhere we left pre-dawn leaving my favourite (but probably cursed - c.f. Braga, above) pair of underpants behind.)

    Arrived in Valença in full sun. Somewhat against the run of play; I’m on foot and on a Camino route. Let’s see what we can find for lunch. Gastrobar Fronteira seems appropriate.

    Well I’m not entirely sure what the menu del dia consisted of (and I have just eaten it); something fishy followed by something porky. Washed down with a ‘Super Bock’ served in an Estrella Galicia glass - that’s the frontier for you. With a coffee €8.50

    Now the bridge (photo) and 3-2-1 I can communicate again! On the downside the price of beer just went up.

    First stork of the season (photo)

    Tui is a fine town; wide streets with modern facilities and an interesting medieval area. Mine hosts for two nights are messers Pensión La Corredera; a spacious old place on the Main Street. Same price as a 3* including breakfast in Porto; but it’s good enough.

    Had a walk round the Cathedral and sat in the sunny cloisters (photo). I do like a bit of topiary.

    Very helpful tourist info office. They gave me a Xunta de Galicia guide to the Camino Portuguese which contains what purports to be a pilgrim passport (specifically not referred to as a credencial) with stage by stage descriptions and space for sellos.

    So; the plan. The bag stays here tomorrow and - if I can find one - I’ll taxi back 15k or so into Portugal and have a nice stroll back. If that’s not possible there appeared to be a big fortification on the Portuguese side which deserves exploration and in Tui, according to the TI there are churches and convents aplenty; including one selling dulces. I’ll go there more in hope than expectation as convent baking’s not much to write home about in my experience.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 4

    Actually walking!

    March 3, 2023 in Portugal ⋅ ⛅ 7 °C

    Final notes from yesterday first:

    I did notice yesterday that when I dug out my phone to report into Mrs HtD at Head Office I had virtually no reception. After a bit of digging I found my phone was clinging onto a Portuguese network for grim death. Switching it off and on again (technology holds no fears for me) restored normal service on the Spanish network.

    There’s more to Tui than someone passing through might appreciate. Good people, every facility one might want and - to my delight - nobody’s speaking to me in English. Credenciales sold in the cathedral should anyone want one.

    This Xunta guide is looking more interesting the more I look at it. It does have all the usual pilgrim preamble on it and space for two (or more) stamps per day from Tui to Santiago. It also has a list of ‘what to see’ en-route which I’ll make use of. So far as Tui’s concerned - it’s worth not rushing through, the cathedral’s something to see (as is the collection of model churches grouped by area) and the pizzeria on the main street’s good and inexpensive.

    The locals are torn in support between RM and Barca both of whom spent more of tonight’s match cheating and feigning injury than playing the game.

    And then today:

    Well, the plan came together, as my plans so often don’t.

    Breakfast was conspicuous by its absence in Tui; the only obviously functioning bar was crammed by the Correos workforce and serving only slices of a massive sweet cake and coffee. Better than nothing.

    A taxi did arrive at the Tui taxi rank and for a very reasonable €20 I reversed my progress into Portugal (where I temporarily got my hour back) and dropped me in Fontoura. About 12k from Tui to where I strolled back.

    A lovely morning and shorts and a t-shirt were all I needed. I did spot a now-decorative solid cartwheel which I had seen in action on an ox-cart 30 years previously.

    Finally a mid morning snack was found. ‘Pig bread’ - perfect. With marketing like that, who could refuse. Google translate’s got a lot to answer for. (A small schnitzel)

    The major event of the morning was on my return to Valença; where it appeared from a distance that the Portuguese tourist board had commissioned a giant modernist installation putting two fingers up at Spain. (Photo)

    Any civil engineers in the room? Good; I’ll go on.

    It was two wind-turbine blades passing through town. These things are huge! Proceeding at walking pace and preceded by a team of enthusiastic electricians, these monsters were passing through the town centre. The electricians were dropping power-lines in real time for the vehicles to drive over, then re-rigging them straight away. It was quite amazing.

    (If I’m not being totally clear; that huge big sticky-up thing which is about 50 meters long is mounted on the back of a truck and is being driven through the centre of a town, would that happen where you live? (Aussies and Kiwis; you’re excused))

    The population of Valença had taken the opportunity to down-tools and take to the streets.

    It did strike me as faintly humourous that someone had affixed a red rubber bung to the sharp end of the blades; I suppose my mother would have said ‘be careful, you could have someone’s eye out with that’

    Back in Tui now having a few scoops and topping up my tan.

    More anon.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 4

    The whole nun-baking thing

    March 3, 2023 in Spain ⋅ ⛅ 14 °C

    Right, I’ve already been pulled-up for making an unsubstantiated claim, with this audience it is to be expected - and Kathar1na’s not showed up yet …

    This nun baking thing.

    Hope triumphed over experience once again and I called in at the convent of the Clarissa’s (the poor Clare’s, who I believe are the female counterparts of the Benedictine’s?)

    They have a sideline in selling baked goods; in the case of Tui a dozen fish-shaped almond shortbread biscuits for €10. If they’re still ‘poor’ their cost control must be abysmal, because the gross retail margin on that should be astronomical

    It’s a closed order, so the sisters don’t engage face-to-face. The transaction is conducted through a ‘turno’ as follows:

    I: ring bell
    She (see note): (sound of someone distantly sighing, putting down the ‘sporting life’ and stubbing out a capstan full-strength) (shuffling) ‘Ave Maria; Que quiere?
    I: Pescados pequeños pfv
    She: €10

    I place the cash on the turntable, it rotates at speed and a pack of biscuits appears ( see photos).

    Now; my knowledge of the workings of the various religious orders is gleaned entirely from watching Father Ted; so I might be imperfectly informed. If we were in an episode of FT ( which the only RC priest I know describes as a documentary programme); there would be almost certainly be an annual inter-nun baking competition; and it would end in violence.

    I can say with certainty that Kirkies mob would beat the Clarissa’s without mercy; because these little almond fish are virtually inedible and Kirkies loaf looks splendid.

    Are we all happy now? Can I get back to the Camino?

    Thank you.

    (Note: I say ‘she’ - quite frankly it could be anyone - even ‘Big bad Norman; 20 years on the run’. See Jake Thackeray’s ‘Sister Josephine’ via google for further details)    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 5

    Porriño!

    March 4, 2023 in Spain ⋅ ☀️ 6 °C

    It’s Saturday, apparantly. The residents of Tui have many fine attributes, but early-rising is not one of them. I and a handful of other peregrinos pounded the streets at 0730 in search of coffee without success. On returning to collect my bag El patron had surfaced in an unexpectedly flamboyant pair of pyjamas and got a brew on.

    I did notice that all the café tables and chairs are left out, clean and tidy, overnight. In the UK if they weren’t chained down securely they wouldn’t survive the first night. Says something nice about the youth of Tui.

    Despite being glorious in the sunshine it’s absolutely baltic in the shade. Nonetheless; I’m setting off in shorts to O Porriño. My second-best knee (currently the right one) is grumbling a little, so I’ll take it nice and slow. I’ve already filled two pages of a credencial basically standing still.

    I’ve enjoyed Tui. It would be a shame to regard it as somewhere to simply start from. Also my limited time in Portugal. I would like to have communicated better in Portuguese; but since attaining some competence in Spanish, my French has deteriorated and I don’t think I’ve got the right brain for more than two languages simultaneously.

    So; let’s see what we can find.

    The first half of the walk’s nice and rural. Three tiny arched bridges paved with huge granite blocks; the first is Roman and the second (being refurbished) (photo) the Ponte de Fiebre where San Telmo came to grief, returning to Tui to die where he is buried and is the town’s patron saint.

    Casa Alternativo (should be -a; perhaps that’s a Belgian joke) is to be found just after the ‘decision point’ between the old and new routes. Even if you’re taking the new scenic route it’s still worth a visit. There’s a short-cut through the woods to the new route; so it doesn’t add any distance. Operated by Dries from Belgium, accompanied by Otto the dog. 10 beds, nice guy, good food. Best bread I’ve had in a while. I think the upcoming area has a reputation for flour milling?

    I generally don’t mind the industrial outskirts of towns; in fact I find them quite interesting, but taking the direct route into Porriño on a Saturday was not the best choice. It goes on forever. There is an unmarked cafe next to the fire-station on the long drag, but only Monday to Friday. I got a coffee out of the fire brigade though.

    There are plans to further expand the already massive industrial estate, which the locals are rightly up in arms about. (Not particularly interesting photo)

    On the last stretch into town - a strange mixture of housing and commerce - the ‘100km to Santiago’ plot is vacant and advertised as such

    I’m not overwhelmed by Porriño. I’m in the Hotel Parque, largely because the attached café is open early tomorrow and as it’s a Sunday I’m not taking any chances with breakfast.

    The receptionists an imbecile; a sure sign of a family business. ‘What are we going to do with the youngest; he’s too thick to get a job anywhere else?’ ‘Oh, just put him on reception, he’ll not do any harm there’. Well .. (not on the Camino Forum now folks - even though most moderators past and present are along for the ride; it’s a free press here)

    According to the security software I run the miserably slow wifi was put in by North Korean intelligence and there’s a children’s ride outside my balcony playing ‘never do a tango with an Eskimo’ at full volume, out of tune, on a loop.

    On the upside, the room’s clean and there’s a bath.

    Sun’s out. It’s unseasonably warm which is lovely, although there’s rain forecast in a few days.

    Mustn’t grumble, all in all it’s going rather well.

    (Clarification re: receptionist. Having been here a few hours, many of the middle-aged blokes look very (really very) similar; speak gallego as a first language, and have a severe nasal impairment. They also shout a lot. They clearly understand each other. My Spanish is functionally fluent and I’m back to hand-signals)

    I’ve added a photo of the view from my balcony of the musically-enhanced entertainment. Whilst I’m usually even-tempered, and I do see the need for children (someone’s going to have to pay the pension one day); I’m rapidly siding with Herod on the matter of innocents.    Read more

  • TravelerCamino Portuguese
    Day 6

    The prospect of mariscos

    March 5, 2023 in Spain ⋅ 🌧 10 °C

    Even for me, this one goes on a bit. Alternate
    paragraphs would probably give you the general idea.

    Thankfully (in reply to Jenny) the neighbouring church was silent.

    If, however you stand on the bridge south of Tui you can hear the church bells from two countries with different opinions as to the correct time. I counted nine synchronous bells then a solitary (but I imagined more authoritative) one from the Spanish side - insisting that it was actually ten o’clock

    So, Saturday evening:

    I’d just settled myself down in an Italian in the centre of Porriño for a bit of pre-emptive carb-loading (not that I need it. In the regrettable event that I ever found myself adrift on a life raft it’s odds-on that I’d lose the ‘who are we going to eat first’ vote; and they’d probably still have takeaway containers when rescue arrived) when in walked Señor El Patron from last night. He was last seen in a pair of furry Rupert-the-bear check trousers and nothing else, but was now accompanied by Señora el patron, who is a good deal more stylish. He’s certainly punching above his weight in the relationship stakes, as am I. Nice guy.

    And so to bed. I’m warming to the Parque, but the heating’s not reciprocating. I think I’m the only resident but he’s put me in a room on the 4th floor, roughly a light-year from the boiler.

    Some time later …

    Yea gods, I’m not soft; but that was a cold night. I had a bath available to me and, whilst the prospect of getting in was appealing, the thought of getting out terrified me.

    I’m up for a slightly longer day today, with the possibility of a short day thereafter; so today’s objective is Arcade where; having called ahead, I understand the Hotel Duarte to be open and there is the prospect of seafood.

    I’m a big fan of fresh fish and mariscos; but I draw the line firmly at pulpo. In my mind there’s something different about an octopus. I met one in Corsica once who was able to climb out of his tank, scoot across the floor, eat his fill in other tanks and return ‘home’; they had to put a board with bricks on over his tank to save the other residents.

    It’s like rabbits and hares; I’ll shoot and eat rabbit without a second thought - but never, ever, a hare. Something about them is very different. It’s strange - they’re all God’s creatures if you like, but some seem to have more character or spirit than others. Is it anthropomorphism? How can I still be able to spell that? Assuming I have, of course.

    I need to be true to my few remaining principles and seriously consider going veggie I suppose.

    Shortly out of Porriño I’m through Chan de Pipas. Apparently in the early C19 a local chap, called Chan, (unsurprisingly) did his bit in resisting the invading French by dropping barrels (pipas) of wine on them from the top of the tower. History doesn’t record Sr.Chan’s sobriety when making that decision, nor how long he lasted when he ran out of barrels and the rest of the Grande Armee showed up. Nor how he, supposedly, got the pipas up the stairs in the first place. Some stories are best left alone. Especially mine.

    I’d better get a move on.

    First stop for a coffee is Café Flora in Mos; the few preceding facilities being more closed than it being Sunday morning would explain. Then Churrasqueria Choles where the locals agree it’s already beer o’clock. I have a quick scoop, so as to not give offence. I pass on the proffered tripe and bean stew though. When it comes to traditional food, I prefer the stuff the bloke on the horse ate not the chap who shovelled up the horse dung.

    Thereafter a nasty little steep downhill in the course of which I manage to defy my usual alcoholic constipation and pass a bar. (That might take a bit of untangling). What a shame to lose the hard-won height so quickly.

    Redondela turned up quickly enough. Whoever laid out the Camino through town needs to take a long hard look in the mirror. A tour of the steepest and most slippy pavements in town was not what I needed.

    I think this is already the furthest I’ll have walked since the great knee-failure of ‘22. No drama as yet, but it’s c 7k further to Arcade, and there’s a bit of a hill in the way. 16k so far in 4 hours with a couple of stops. Not my historic pace by some way, but I’ve no longer got my historic knees.

    The last stretch into Arcade was a bit of a slog to be honest; then the last K along the main road is really rather dangerous. It’s a very fast road.

    The sight of the sea ( photo) and the prospect of seafood has lifted my spirits somewhat. I came this far because Arcade is renowned for mariscos and I’ve a deliberate short day tomorrow just in case something went wrong today. Happily, it hasn’t.

    Hotel Duarte tonight. Lunch service will be in full swing at 1430.

    More anon    Read more

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