Life's a Stitch

September 23rd: 22.9k – Coastal Route, joining the Central Route

If you think about it, five hours of hiking just doesn't seem like much, but throw in some steep inclines and the corresponding downhills, I can't adequately describe how it feels. It's only for maybe 1-2k uphill, but it feels like your nose will scrape the ground in front of you. As C described it at the end of the day, "my dogs are barking. Although a pilgrimage is about the journey, by the end of the day it's definitely about the destination.

We had a quick breakfast at the edge of Vigos. C had some ordering issues and we ended up with protein overload. A two egg omelette with two large slices of ham and a substantial piece of cheese plus cafe con leche. It was a good thing because there were no places to stop for the following 15k. We balanced our breakfast with fruit for lunch, what we had in our packs plus a delicious fig from the tree on the side of the road.

The day itself started and ended with the most steep 185 meters I've ever experienced, leading to incredible views. 

Stopped for a photo with a big fish.

We walked for awhile with a Dutch woman who was on her fourth Camino. She said after her third she realized she was not yet done walking. That's how I felt last time. Chuck? Not really, but he came along to keep me company.

We added self inflicted kilometers on the end by booking a hostel a few k off the Camino. At least they were flat and breezy k and ended on an estuary with a beach and a pretty view. We walked in to find the Aussies and their travelmates from Nevada. Many pilgrims made for a fun dinner. 

September 22: Coastal route – 26.6k +\-

Pinned my wet socks to my pack to dry, packed the leftover cheese and prosciutto for lunch and we were back on our way, generally speaking.

Trouble is there were no arrows pointing to the beach way. At some point we ended up on the main coastal route ascending quickly to 185 meters. A little more work than anticipated, but worth the effort through tree tunnels over a Roman Road. Those Romans liked their roads at higher levels, not only because it was a shorter route, they could see marauders from a greater distance.

After our picnic lunch we decided to add on yet a few more k to walk along the beach as we'll be turning inland after today's stop in Vigo. Stopped at a bar for a beer, vino tinto and agua con gas. We were treated to delicious tapas of Russian bean salad, bread and tortilla (Spanish potato omelet). The TV was on (it is always on in the bars of Spain) so we watched Wheel of Fortune and Simpsons en Español. 

We were shocked at how quickly the beach changed into a tropical looking paradise. 

Feeling a bit wilted we took the short route into the city. Short, but all uphill, until we reached our little hotel in the middle of Bouzas, just outside of Vigo. The room is quite pleasant with a large balcony looking at treetops.

Ventured out for dinner and chose a burger place featuring "premium beef." Seriously, the MacDonald's we passed today probably had better beef. Disappointing, as the best burger we've ever had was on last year's Camino.

Tomorrow, route is supposed to be under 20k. We'll see if we can keep that number from growing as has become our custom.

 

Not with the trek, which is going amazingly well, but with wifi, which should work itself out soon as we change accommodation. Thanks to all for your encouraging emails, so appreciated. 

September 21st was a day of rest for weary pilgrim feet. C took it seriously and stayed in and read until past 1:30. I climbed a lot of stairs and walked around the huge fortress where I could see the point where our hotel is located and the rough seas below:

Then toured the replica of The Pinta, of Columbus fame. That was one tiny ship to cross the Atlantic! The self guided tour described the stinky hold, however the smell brought calm to the crew, as it indicated the ship was not taking on water.  Unfortunately there were few experiences of calm as the Pinta was a leaky boat. When you see how rough the seas are here you can imagine how difficult it would be to keep the little ship's boards together. 

Later on we both walked to the old town where I had my first pilgrim meal. What better place to have fresh salmon steaks than in the fishing port of Baiona. For 9,90e there was meat empanada, pan grilled salmon with a huge pile of fresh veggies, bread, dessert, coffee and your drink of choice including wine. I had my usual Coke Zero as it was lunchtime. 

Back to the hotel to put the feet up in preparation for tomorrow's long day. We should have rested our feet at the laundromat instead of doing hand washing yesterday. It's so cool and damp on this point next to the ocean, which gets no direct sunlight, the clothes we washed yesterday have little chance of drying by tomorrow. 

I've been chilled for two days, craving a bowl of Caldo Gallego soup, but finding none at any local restaurant. Unbelievably, late tonight, sitting in the lounge in order to get wifi, one of the owners appeared with two cups of Camino magic – Caldo Gallego. 

 

September 20th: 16k – Coastal route

Last night's Gallician sunset was impressive. For the first time I saw the green flash as the sun melted into the ocean, seconds after this picture was taken. We had a tapas dinner of chiperones (baby squid) for the third time in 24 hours (two fried and one grilled), steamed mussels and salad. 

Started the morning passing the sheep in a cornfield munching on berry leaves. 

 

Then onto the coast. 

 

What the day lacked in kilometers was made up in incline. A steep 130 meters up then down on Roman roads, quickly followed by another 100. 

The hills/mountains looked like huge rock piles. I can't imagine the blasting that had to be done to build this road:

Between the two hills we were greeted by a local woman who had just picked a bag of figs. She insisted we take four each. They were delicious as is all the fruit in Spain. The plums, peaches and nectarines are much larger and juicier and far less expensive than at home.

 We've settled into the town of Baiona for a rest day. This is the port where people first heard from Columbus about his discovery of the new world. They celebrate that anniversary every year.

 Counted our remaining days and realized this will be the only rest day if we want to make our original goal of going beyond Santiago. Our daily distances are averaging less than last year, but that is due in part to the distance between towns and the fact that we chose to stay on the total coastal route, which adds two days. As rest days go, they often involve more time on our feet than if we had been hiking. 

We're in a tired old hotel that must have been grand in her day, on a busy road with a magnificent view of the water and the fort that contains the city's Parador. 

The system of Paradors are super luxurious hotels, built by the Spanish government, starting at 150e nightly. I think I wrote about them last year. Located in historical buildings, some have iffy pasts. I believe the one in Leon served as a place of torture during the Spanish civil war. I supposed many buildings of historic significance come with a past. Given the euro to Cdn exchange rate, I'll pass on the ironed monogrammed sheets and towels when my worn hotel room has a shower like this:

 

September 19: 19.1k – Coastal Route

Spain's beautiful coastline is rockier than Portugal's, so there is was no sandy beach walking today. We met up with the usual suspects from the US and Brazil:

Then the Aussies with their American friends:

That's the beauty of the Camino. Last year we met pilgrims from 32 countries.

We passed several fancy homes with pools, more modest villages and abandoned buildings.

We stopped for a lunch of Spanish Tortilla (potato omelet) and grilled squid. The restaurant was across from the Monestario de Oia XII.

There were farms right up to the ocean, horses, cows, sheep, goats and cornfields:

Sadly we said goodbye to Carolyn, Beth and Laura, as their route will change as Carolyn has to fly back for work. Hopefully we'll reunite in the Pacific NW.

We arrived at our little hotel late in the afternoon. There's a view of the ocean and built in entertainment – an African Grey parrot on the balcony across the street. Just hanging out while waiting until 9:00 for dinner. 

September 18: 15.6k plus a ferry to Spain

A day of some confusion. C and I had our wires crossed and we ended up on two different paths for awhile. I knew they would join at the end so no worries. I did, however, receive this email from him: "No wife, no map, no money…two of these are easily replaced."

We started out still in Portugal, walking with Anna from Russia and the Pac NW group. Spain's Mount Tecla was in the distance. 

Once in Caminha, a ferry crossing is required to stay on the Camino into Spain. One detail: the River Minho is tide dependent and at times you can wait five hours until the ferry can cross. Fortunately our wait was about half an hour. 

Arriving in Spain there was a stop at the snack booth near the dock for lemon beer and the best ever greasy, salty potato chips. 

We continued up, up, up, then down into the town of A Guarda. Looking back at Portugal:

We're staying at a beautifully renovated 17th century convent. The nuns lived here until 1984. In 1991 it was bought and renovated by an art collector/investor.  One room has a collection of 14th century china and from the 16th century, ceramic tiles with the Camino scallop shell.

I was afraid that I had misunderstood the price as we were walked to our room through what is a combination museum and hotel,  but I checked and it was within our budget. When I think that we've paid the same for merely adequate accommodation, this is a special treat. 

Spain is an hour later than Portugal which made it easier to wait for 8:00 dinner, more percebes (goose barnacles), this time cooked. We had fun introducing other pilgrims to the delicious but odd looking creatures. 

 

September 17 – the food

On our last night in Portugal, as we cross into Spain tomorrow, I'm dedicating this to the delicious, but maybe not so healthy, food.

This is our favourite, pastel (pronounced poshtel) nata, which translates to cream pastry. It serves as Camino survival food, second brekkie, snack or dessert. 

Laden with protein: egg yolks and milk, I can go for hours after eating one. We are lucky to have a Portuguese  bakery in Vancouver that does a good job with their pastel nata. I've read the secret is 800 degree ovens.

Many desserts are bright yellow with egg yolks including an angel hair pasta pudding. Think rice pudding, but substituting threads of noodles for the rice. Turns out some of the traditional recipes were developed by the nuns who used egg whites to starch their habits and needed a way to use the yolks.

Meals in Portugal generally come with bread, rice and potatoes. The bread is probably the best I've ever tasted. At many restaurants the table is already set with bread, butter, sardine pate, cheese spread and cod fritters, all irresistible. And all at an up charge. 

But wait, the carbs aren't all. Those Heart Smart people with whom C used to work in Community Health Promotion at the Health Department, would keel over at the amount of butter consumed here. Twice we thought we were ordering a healthy meal of grilled fish and veggies, however, they were all swimming in butter. So much for the European Mediterranean diet with all that healthy olive oil. 

Don't get me wrong, we are enjoying every morsel, but I'll wait a few weeks before having a post trip cholesterol test. And I'll avoid a scale. Just like last year's Camino when C said he needed the cruise home to lose weight. 

On the topic of food, on our way to dinner tonight we experienced a sunset as rich as the Portuguese diet:

September 17:  18.1k Coastal Route

It was a social day on the Camino. It took awhile to find the coastal route, having ended up on the literal wrong side of the tracks with no way to cross. Once along the beach it was heavenly.

We met Martin from Kraków, the birthplace of my Polish family. Shortly thereafter we joined Carolyn, Beth and Laura, the Pacific NW crew we met the other day.

Having tied a bandana beret as a substitute for my hat, I explained to them how I had lost it two days ago. Camino magic! They had found a hat on the forest trail on Thursday and it was mine. I had determined from pictures that I lost it between 3:00 and 3:16. They found it at 3:51, probably the very next pilgrims to pass that way. Not knowing it was mine their plan was to drop it at the next alburgue.

We had met a local man who advised us that avoiding the Camino path and taking the beach trails instead would be a more satisfying hike. "Always keep the ocean on your left and you'll be OK." It was spectacular. We went through moors of heather:

Past forts:

Walked on the beach:

Into the town of Ancora behind us:

September 16: 15k Coastal Route

The morning began with the discovery that we had both lost our hats. C found his in the car of last night's host. I figured mine was accidentally dropped on the trail. 

After yesterday's day of stressful pilgrimage we gave ourselves a break, choosing a shorter day. This was a Camino experience like the one we remember.

Really though, they are supposed to be unique experiences, not comparable to each other. We were reminded of this when talking to two German women, who did the Central Portugues route last year and the coastal this year. We asked which they preferred. The thought of a preference had never occurred to them. Each day on the Camino is its own experience, not to be compared with another. A lesson in staying in the present.

Today's path was a nice balance of eucalyptus forest, rocks, cobblestones and city walking. 

There was a balance of incline and down hill. Coming up one hill we were being watched by a local:

We descended into the town of Viana do Costelo, with it's Sanctuary high above town near the ruins of a Mesolithic era community. The city has lots of character  and we were in time for outdoor concerts on two stages. If you're visiting Portugal this one merits a stop.

Notice the bridge we had to cross? Most of you know my fondness for bridges, or lack thereof. This one, built by Eiffel of the famous tower, is 600 meters long. Our trip across was uneventful, but another set of pilgrims described their trek across as earthquake-like when a train passed through the bottom level. 

Our accommodation was an older well preserved hotel with original tile and stainless steel pipes in the bathroom. I imagine that it preceded the highway and train under our balcony, but they have done an excellent job of soundproofing. C wanted some port from the hotel's tiny bar prior to bedtime. The owner presented two bottles from which to choose. He poured two generous glasses and now C has learned to ask the price in advance.

It was the best we've had, but far too much for me. C assured me that not wanting to leave any behind, he'd have mine at breakfast. And he did.