Pontevedre to Combarro

On face value this should be an easy day. We'd decided to leave the long slog up to Armenteira until the day after. Nothing is ever easy though.

After a fitful night's sleep in a room as hot as oven, accompanied by the world's saddest dog barking continuously, it was late before the first steps were taken. Backtracking into town, then walking along the river front we did at least cross on the bridge that was on the official Camino route. We'd missed it the last time we were here and got into all sorts of difficulties with the dual carriageway.

Once over the bridge we again had a hombre shout us back onto the route by pointing us down a side street running parallel to the main drag. After clearing some initial traffic it proved to be a lovely stroll along quiet roads with varied houses appearing every so often. There were a lot of new looking crucerios in some of them. Obviously recently made.

Eventually the splitting point of the two caminos was reached. Just as 8 years earlier. A couple of slim middle aged German ladies arrived at the same time. There was a fairly useless notice board describing the Espiritual way. But the towns were in descending order? Very confusing. But the variante was marked with yellow arrows and labelled, albeit on the side of a large garbage bin.

The Germans were perplexed. I asked where they were going. Caldas de Reis. Then take the route to the right, says I. The left way goes to Combarro etc etc. They weren't happy. They looked for a second opinion. A giant of a youth with a whispy beard, a hacking cough and a cigarette hove into view. They asked him. His answer was incoherent and he sat down on the grass. I had another stab at explaining the situation. They still weren't sure. Drawing myself to my full height and in my best English I gave them my word, as an English gentleman, that they needed the route to the right. We left them to it.

We then had two hours of glorious walking. It varied from side roads to fields to senda. Sometimes up a little, but never too taxing. The signage was glorious. At a junction, if there was ever the possibility of confusion, one sign was always followed up by another within seeing distance of the first.

We paused by a church. Naturally it was closed. A patrol car drifted past. The first of three times. No idea why there was such a marked presence.

We pulled in at a hotel and sat outside on a patio for a cafe con lech, coke and orange juice. A fountain sparkled nearby. Sadly the silence was shattered by grass strimmers.

Our late start meant the arrival at Poio monastery coincided nicely with it closing for the afternoon. Ah well, hopefully there'll be a next time.

By now it was scorchio. I zigzagged from one patch of shade to another. It wasn't long though before Combarro came into view. The tide was in so the sunken fishing boats were hidden in the water. This was another very quaint and busy place. A cantina provided us with food, though we decided against the pan fried sea slugs? Such was the popularity of Combatro that the place that we'd booked into was 2km further up the road. It was a weary trudge before we arrived at the hotel.

The deep bath with foot operable taps was bliss. The air con? I had to put a jacket on to keep warm! We had a pilgrim meal which for €18 was a bargain.

Executive Summary. A lovely days walking spoilt slightly by either 10 degrees too much heat or a 2 hour late startRead more