• Day 3: Barcelos to Balugaes

    September 21, 2024 in Portugal ⋅ ⛅ 22 °C

    Saturday 21 September

    Whether the yellow arrow that marks the way is faded on crumbling walls, or a bold marker impossible to miss - it’s there at every turn or crossroads to keep you on track. I missed it twice today. Once while I was walking with Margit from Austria. I’d met her a few hours earlier when we’d both stopped to rest in the shade of a high wall. ‘Oh why oh why isn’t there a bench when you need one?’ she said with a laugh as she leaned against the wall. We chatted for a few minutes before I hoisted up my bag and moved on. Two hundred metres or so further on, I came upon a bench, the first and last I saw that day. I took a seat and waited for Margit to catch up. ‘Here’s the bench you asked for. Now where’s a cold drink when you need it?’ I said.

    We walked together for a while and, 30 or so minutes later we reached a fountain, the first and last of the day. ‘Here’s that cold drink you asked for,’ she said.

    We filled our bottles and continued. A while later, as we chatted away, we heard a loud whistle behind us. A man repairing part of a wall at the church we’d just passed waved us over and pointed to the arrow we’d just missed, saving us from having to backtrack later. ‘Buen Camino,’ he wished us. ‘Obrigado, obrigado.’ we replied.

    An hour or so later, as I walked alone on a quiet street, an old man walked out of a driveway 30 metres ahead and waved, then pointed back in the direction from which I’d come. I retraced my steps and spotted the faint arrow I’d missed. I waved back and shouted ‘obrigado’ as he disappeared behind the wall from behind which he had so suddenly appeared.

    Passing through a forest of bluegums, I remembered that I hadn’t done much stretching during the day. I stopped to lean against one of the many smooth tree trunks that lined the dusty road and started some calf stretches. ‘But maybe I don’t really need to stretch anymore - the tendonitis has been so much better since I started this walk.’ I laughed.

    I looked up and saw a blue smiley face someone had drawn on white trunk just above head height.

    A day of real Camino magic.
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