Barcelos to Balugaes

Rain all day, sigh. I rented a donkey named Uber from Barcelos to somewhere along the route. I had him drop me off in front of a fancy guest house. I first ordered a horse named Bolt, and I stepped out from under the awning, waving, but he was looking the other way and canceled the ride, so I ordered Uber instead. It was cheaper anyway.
I’ve moved away from predominantly corn country into wine territory. The earth is darker, whatever that means chemically. The path was mostly farm roads, cobbled of course. I finally found a place to stop, but it was the only cafe for miles and all the locals came in for lunch. I tossed my dripping poncho and pack in the corner and squeezed into a chair by the door and only ordered a pastel de nata, Portugal’s favorite custard cup. Mine too to be honest.

My hotel was only a couple miles further if you follow the roads. The rock strewn way really challenged me and I limped the last 1/2 mile. Happily my suitcase got there before me even though it was before 2:00. I got out of my soaking clothes, took some advil, slathered on the Voltaren and fell asleep under a heavy blanket.

Inner journey: I’ve had several dreams about people at my old job. Not naming names, I realize I have some forgiveness work to do. Maybe it’s working out just with the dreams. Maybe I have to put some intention behind it. Maybe at the next chapel. 💒.Read more