Castelo da Póvoa

Bregit! My feet!

I walked 10.7 miles today. It was supposed to be 8, but a chosen detour and some lost wandering here in Povoa de Varzim racked up a few extra. My feet aren’t killing me, but they are considering it.

If a doctor asked me to rate my foot pain from one to 10, I’d say 3, with a serious threat threat for an increase. My heels feel like overworked pistons in need of an oil change. My toes are sun-blind prisoners just released from my trail runners. This seems only natural considering the work they put in today. Hopefully tomorrow and the next day…and so on…won’t compound the issue.

I travelled all day today with Bregit, from Germany. She majored in English, so was able to accommodate our conversations nicely. (I am forever thankful and also guilt ridden that so many others taken the time to learn my language.) We talked about the many people back home who were confused and worried by our decision to walk alone, and about our families, and our Camino experiences thus far. We agreed the Portuguese people are a cheerful bunch who eat a loooot of potatoes. We also agreed they drive on some of the skinniest streets we’ve ever seen. She taught me how to say ‘snail’ in German.

Bregit is no slacker, so we clocked about about a 22 minute mile, even with an occasional lollygag. The scenery along our route was very much like coastal California. We trod a raised boardwalk across a lot of sandy beaches and dunes. At one point the wind blown sand had swept over the boardwalk trail so completely that the upright posts were covered. Sand walking sucks.

Arriving here in Povoa de Varzim, we opted to detour back to the sea rather than take the standard path through town. That’s how we found a great little cafe for our supper, or whatever the Portuguese call the huge meal they consume midday. Of course there were French fries. Bregit got a salad. I was jealous.

We are hitting the road together tomorrow for an anticipated 8 miles. Feet don’t fail me now.Read more