Barcelos

Today was meant to ease us into our Camino journey, the shortest leg of the trip. We started out fine although neither of us got much sleep last night. We got ourselves sorted and out the door of the hostel by mid morning, got our pilgrim’s credential stamped at Se Cathedral then jumped on a train headed for the coastal town of Vila do Conde. From there we followed the old aqueduct (built in the early 1700’s, now just remnants) inland to the town of Sao Pedro de Rates to follow the Central path of the Caminho Portugues.

The route we took today was a shortcut of sorts between the Coastal and the Central routes of the Camino. Even though it isn’t really part of any Camino route, just a link between the two, the way was well marked with yellow arrows. A couple times the path we took didn’t quite match the proscribed route but we made it to Rates by late afternoon.

Mostly we walked at the edge of narrow cobblestone roads: We walked through some upscale neighborhoods as we left the coast, winding through fields of feed corn as we got further inland.. At one point, I kid you not, there was a large baseball stadium with bleachers and everything , surrounded by corn fields. I did not see Shoeless Joe Jackson but he was probably nearby.

Since it’s Sunday there wasn’t much traffic. We did have to press ourselves up against a stone wall at one point to accommodate a very big, very speedy piece of farm equipment but otherwise it was fairly peaceful. A few stretches ran through shady stands of eucalyptus trees along dirt roads which was a welcome relief from the sun baked cobbles. It was hot.

We walked for a couple hours, made a pit stop at a little cafe, walked some more, took a break at a bus stop to tend our sore feet, walked some more. But just like your mom in the pool when you were learning to swim, the finish line kept moving farther away.

Eventually we made it to our destination, Casa Mattos, about 6 hours after we left Vila do Conde, taking about 50% longer than I had expected. But you know the best part? Since our lovely hospitaliero doesn’t speak English, my boiled brain had to translate his oh so rapid Portuguese on the fly. I kept speaking French and Ellen was throwing her Spanish around. It wasn’t pretty. The good news is he thinks we’re German. Not sure why but I’m fine being an embarrassment to Germany. They can handle it.

But the house, rooms, and surrounding gardens and vineyard are gorgeous. There are other pilgrims staying here but we were in no shape to make new friends. We took showers, washed our clothes, and passed out. I have no idea how we’re going to do this again tomorrow. More of it.

We did manage to haul ourselves out of bed long enough to go out hunting for dinner. There are a few restaurants in town but the first was closed, and the second had run out of food. We ran into a group of 3 German women, peregrinos who all lived in the same town but had only just met on the Camino. They joined us in our search for food and we all ended up sharing a table at a the only open restaurant in town. We sat outdoors on the main square as the setting sun lit up the whitewashed buildings. They were a fun group.Läs mer