Ponte de Lima rest day

Meds are helping. I still take stairs down sideways, but I managed walking up hills and on slippery sidewalks today.

Ponte de Lima is a lovely town, when its not raining. Named for the bridge over the river Lima, this is the oldest town in Portugal. There’s been a lot of military encampments here over the centuries, from Romans on. Streets are, of course, narrow, windy, and mostly cobbled. Houses butt up against each other, some in grave disrepair. Everything seems to be built of stone and the classic churches go way, way back. I marvel at how old things are, how little they’ve changed, how traditions extend for many generations.
This is grape harvest season and all family hands are called on to get the grapes down on dry days or the wine will be ruined. So yesterday’s heavy rains pushed off the work, hoping for tomorrow.

Inner journey: I sat in the church next door that chimes every half hour between 8h and 21h. I said I choose to forgive … and I ran through every name I could think of that fits from my old job. Then I brushed my hands off several times and felt done. DONE. Then I looked at the two compassionate-looking statues and asked, “ok, help me know what’s next”. Still listening.
I have been asking my knee what it wants me to know and what I get so far is that it is giving me a reason to have an easy-ish Camino. I have a reason to stop after 10-12 K whenever there’s a cafe or landmark on a road and call for a ride. Tomorrow has a rough mountain climb that I will not do. But there’s a cafe next to our lady of something or other chapel where I can end my walk, just before the mountain climb, on account of my knee. Thanks!!!Read more