• Day 6 - Camina, Portugal to Oia, Spain

    6 июня 2024 г., Испания ⋅ ☁️ 68 °F

    I met Miguel yesterday as I left the forest at the water's edge near Caminha. He was fishing for business for the boat ride across the river into Spain. This was one aspect of the trip I hadn't planned out, but other pilgrims told me they were making reservations in advance.

    Sure enough, when I exited the Albergue this morning Miguel was outside in a beat up van to take me back to the boat launch. Petrosa, a pilgrim from Italy, was already waiting in the van. Everyone else was still eating breakfast. Even when we stopped at other albergues and hostels to see if anyone else wanted to join us, he could find no takers. Once at the dock he collected six Euros from each of us that covered our stamp, our taxi, and our smuggling across the border. Then he left us on the dock telling us that Paublo would pick us up but to be patient because he was coming from the other side. All morning long it felt like I was in a bad movie. Yet 15 minutes later Paulo arrived in the boat and Miguel showed back up to help us aboard. He handed us both life vests. "For the Police," he said.

    Ten minutes later Paulo ran the boat into the Spanish shore and pointed ahead to the forest. We hopped off the boat and he reversed back towards Portugal with a wave. Petrosa and I made our way through the sand and up onto the boardwalk. We laughed, wished each other a buen Camino and then started our day's walking journey.

    We had taken the boat from the Praia Foz do Minho beach across to the Spanish beach outside of A Armona. The other option had been to take a ferry at the end of Caminha across to A Pasaxe. The difference in the docking would determine which direction you would go around Santa Trega mountain. As I wanted to walk around the coast, I opted for the boat over the ferry.

    While I don't know what the ferry riders experienced going counter clockwise around the mountain, once you walk for a few minutes up the boardwalk in A Pasaxe you enter Pineiral Castrexo, a Celtic pine forest.

    This region of Spain is called Galicia (the c makes a "th" sound instead of an "s"). It has Celtic roots. Two pilgrims I walked with today said, "This feels like Ireland." It should.

    The hilltop has Celtic ruins that date back to the 1st century which include Celtic petroglyphs. They have reproduced these Celtic symbols in the pine forest by painting segments of the symbols on the trees. You must stand in a specific spot on the boardwalk to see a symbol come together. I stopped at each one. I found both of the Celtic symbols that I wear on leather bracelets around my wrists.

    I could sense a difference when I crossed into Galicia on the Frances route last year heading into the town of O Cebrero, almost like I had stepped into a fairytale world. I didn't know I would feel that way again crossing over from a boat into a forest, but I did. It was enchanting.

    Gone (at least for today) are the sandy beaches I got used to walking next to in Portugal. This coast is rocky and feels more wild.

    Now present, after crossing the border, are the mojones, the stone and concrete posts with the Camino shells and arrows but also with distance markers to Santiago. It's both exciting to see how far I've come in six days and unnerving to know I'm halfway there.

    It was a shorter walk, almost half of what I went yesterday, but my destination was Oia. I wanted to stay in La Cala, an albergue owned by an American expat named Tanya, who I learned about from my friend and podcaster Leigh Brennan.

    Albergues all have their own personalities, which has more to do with the hospitaleros who run them than it does the amenities. Tanya has made hers feel like home. I can see why La Cala is a favorite place to stay on the Portuguese Coastal Camino.

    Things I am grateful for today:
    * A shorter stage
    * Celtic spirituality and it's lands
    * Feeling at home
    * Deep conversations
    * New friends
    * A friendly dog in the 1st cafe I found today
    * Bread that is so good on the chicken breast and cheese bocadillo (sandwich) that when the waiter asks if you want any mayo or mustard with it you delightfully turn him down and savor it just the way it is
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