thelongcamino

All Too Soon, It’s Over – Our Final Day

With around 26km to Santiago and quite a bit of climbing, we woke at 6:30am for our final day. After the soaking the night before, Padron was wet but thankfully it wasn’t raining.

The Way wound its way from Padron and we 4 Pilgrims were in good spirits knowing this would be our last big day of walking.

Just as we were hopeful of a dry day, the skies opened and it poured down.

No pousa today, the rain won’t stay away

Then, as we round a corner, the rain stopped and we could see blue sky.

Because of our early start, we didn’t see too many Pilgrims, something odd after the last few days. Then, when we stopped for breakfast and a coffee, the stream began to build.

It was a beautiful morning for walking, cool but not cold, no wind and the rain largely abated.

Satuario da Virxe da Escravitude, a lovely little church that is falling into disrepair. There is significant water damage and it smelt of mould. Very sad.

We walked on into the morning. I checked the time back in Australia. It dawned on me that it would be 2 years almost to the hour since mum had passed. I was hit by a way of emotion and shed a few tears as I walked on alone.

Mum loved nature. My earliest memories are walking in various natural places around Australia, dad with his camera, Krissy pointing things out and mum loving being with her young family. We walked everywhere. From Aunty Jan’s house to Umina Beach. Up and around the sandstone country of the central coast to Pearl Beach and Patonga. Through the Warumbungles in western NSW.

Before she passed away we asked what her wishes were. In accordance with them, we spread her ashes below the sandstone cliffs at Umina Beach. Her country.

In my mind I see her swimming out past the headland, past Lion Island and into the Pacific. No matter where I go in the world, she will be there.

I kept some of mum’s ashes and put them in a small urn. I’ve taken that urn on every trip I ever taken since she passed. Mum’s going on adventures that she couldn’t when she was with us.

Since mum passed, I see the world through her eyes too. When Claire and I were in Bali, I could see mum loving the people and the culture and the landscape. When people met me, they met mum as well.

She was with me when I walked from Santiago de Compostela to Muxia in 2023. And she’s been with us as we walked the Camino Portuguese.

As the morning wore on, we knew the long climb of the day couldn’t be too far away. Sure enough, the trail entered the oak forest and began to climb.

It was very pretty walking.

Around midday, we passed the 10km to go point, not way marked on this Camino.

Camino are big things, but they’re made up of so many small moments. It’s hard to believe that we started this journey 12 days ago, it seems like much longer given the adventures we’ve all had.

Our last sello at the Chapel of Saint Mary Magdalene

We caught up with Maureen and Steve and shared a last drink before we entered Santiago. We had another place we had to visit on the way in that was special.

Marta is Steve’s mum’s name. It was a beautiful little church, sadly locked at this time.

It was time for our last push to Santiago. we snaked through unknown streets until we entered the old city. We were almost done.

And then we entered the Praza do Obroboiro and it was all over.

There was only one more thing to do. Well two. We had a drink and a small lunch at a bar near the Pilgrim’s Office.

And then there was only one last thing.

Get our compostela.

Oh, then was just one other thing to do.

We attended the 7:30pm Pilgrim’s mass and yes, the botafumeiro was swung. What a special way to finish our Camino.

Steve had booked us into Indómito, a Michelin star restaurant, for dinner. It didn’t disappoint. The food was delicious.

So how to finish up on this adventure?

It was a tricky start with long hot days in Portugal which lead to some blisters and difficult walking. But nothing dampened our spirits and it has been a wonderful Camino. Yes, we all have sore feet and are glad we don’t have to get up and walk 25km, but I know deep down we’ll all miss the Pilgrim life, Portugal and Spain.

The people we have met along the way have all been so generous. But for such generosity, we may have gone hungry some nights. The drivers are respectful and more than happy to stop when they don’t have to in order to let a Pilgrim cross the road. The locals will give you smile and a buenos dias if you’re open and generous with your own approach. The landscapes are varied and often stunning. The food can be exceptional. We have a new found love of vermouth and always enjoyed a cold cerveza, a chilled Albariño or a tasty Rioja. What’s not to love.

Sharing this experience with Claire has been wonderful. I think she now understands why I start to rave enthusiastically whenever there is mention of the Camino.

Maureen and Steve have been great companions on the way.

We all join the great tribe that can call themselves Pilgrims.

Buen Camino

Padron’s Pouring Piquant Peppers for Pilgrims

Despite the weather warnings, it wasn’t raining when we left Caldas de Reis this morning. It was dark and wet, but not raining. For that, we were thankful and also committed to walking as far as we could before the predicted rain arrived.

As Steve says, dress for the weather, not the forecast.

The forest was dark as a large number of Pilgrims walked out of town. We saw people with plastic bags over their socks, over their shoes and over their heads. And still it wasn’t raining.

And then it started raining. So we forged on.

Until our first coffee of the day.

Steve thinking – when does this freaking end?

As we neared the highest point of the day, the wind picked up and the temperature dropped.

But our spirits were high.

As we dropped down, the trail meandered through villages and forest. The rain would come and then go.

Around lunchtime, the rain came with a vengeance and the trail dropped steeply.

It was time for lunch and to get out of the rain. Steve and I spotted Bar San Miguel which boasted a soup special. We messaged Claire and Maureen to meet us there and then waited patiently for some vacant seats.

Vermut Pistroni and Galician soup = happy Claire

It was worth the wait. The soup special was delicious and came with wine and a coffee. It was so good, Steve had two bowls.

We donned our wet weather gear and headed back out for the last 6km into town.

The rain was staying away, much less than the 80mm predicted, or so it seemed.

Just a few minutes from our accommodation, it began to pour. The town of Padron was soaked.

Waiting at the shoe store to get into our apartment

After a shower and some washing and maybe a cheeky siesta, we braved Padron. It was windy and still pouring.

We walked around the corner to the Church of Santiago. Soaked, we entered as mass was progressing. There was some lovely singing and then it was all over.

Maureen and I lit a candle for our Camiño family and collected sellos in our credencials.

This church is famous as it apparently has the stone to which St James’s boat was tied when he made it back here some time over a millennium ago.

We had thoughts of collecting a Padron Compostela, but the weather was against us. We thankfully found a little restaurant called A Casa de Martinez. We enjoyed a fabulous tomato salad, Thai rice, fresh bread and olive oil, beef cheeks, local black paella and dessert all washed down with some lovely wine.

Oh, and because it’s Padron, we had to have Padron Peppers. They were piquant, but just the right amount, not pouring.

Tomorrow is our final day. We hope to rise early and get to Santiago to enjoy the day. Oh, and let’s hope it is reasonably dry.

Ponchos from Pontevedra

I woke at around 6:00 and it wasn’t raining. After drifting off til just before 7:00, I woke and it was raining.

Stiff upper lip, no complaining amongst our crew of Claire, Maureen, Steve & I.

There was a rainbow of poncho colours as very wet Pilgrims kept heading north.

We joined the conga line of poncho wearers across the Rio Lerez.

Did I mention it was wet?

The poncho wearers adjusted their gear as the rain intensified. The local Police drove by to make sure we were all okay.

The first few kilometres went by and as we walked past all the delicious looking cafes in Pontevedra, we became desperate for food and a coffee.

We deviated from The Way to a small bar for bacon cheese bocadillos and coffee. The place was full of very wet Pilgrims. The coffee and food was delicious.

Just when we thought the rain was easing, it began to pour just as we were heading out the door.

Even though it was raining, the path was very beautiful.

All in all, we were having a lovely morning as we climbed up through the forest.

We stopped at around 1:00 at a bar full of wet Pilgrims (not complaining), and ordered drinks and pizza.

Is this vermouth? If not, I’m not drinking it.

After lunch the rain stopped. It was a lovely flattish 4 or so kilometres to Caldas de Reis.

We walked through vines which we just had to try.

The reds were delicious and a few dry days from vintage. The whites were complex with musky flavours. All in all, yum!

Before long, we were walking into Caldas de Reis and across the Rio Umia. That river name is very close to the name of the beach where mum and dad grew up and met – Umina. This translates as the place of rest and it’s where we spread mum’s ashes when she passed in 2022.

The river was not quite raging, but it had a decent flow.

I’m NOT complaining!

We settled into our apartment at Rua Vela, showered and washed our clothes. It was such a great feeling to take our very wet shoes and socks off.

After a small siesta, we headed out to see the town.

Caldas de Reis is famous for its hot springs, so, when in Rome.

After a quick stop into the shops to get some breakfast, we head to Inmerso for a pre-dinner drink and then to Roquino for dinner.

On the way, we pass a few road signs.

We enjoy a nice hearty meal and a lovely local Albariño and Rioja.

All in all, not a bad day.

I’m not complaining. Oh, I’ve had enough. See you tomorrow where we have an extreme weather warning.

Off Piste or 16’s Not 16!

It was 11 degrees in Redondela this morning and still dark when the alarm went off at 7:00am. A quick pack and we were off to the local cafe for coffee and desayuno (breakfast). Maureen & Claire ordered the small breakfast.

Seems size, like temperature, is a relative thing.

As we moved on, the temperature hit 16 and we stripped off. 16 is not 16 it seems. At home we’d be freezing in 16, here it’s shorts and shirts.

Claire had read in John Brierley’s guidebook about an alternate route that would take us away from the noisy and dangerous main road, the N-550. Though it was longer, it was flatter, so we decided the adventure was worth it. As the other Pilgrims wandered along like a row of sheep, we headed off in a different direction.

We did get a little confused with the path, especially near Cesantes beach. Thankfully a shell guided us up a narrow and steep staircase.

When our path returned to the N-550, it took us only a few hundred metres of speeding cars and trucks to decide to head off piste once more. The trail seemed to disappear, but our determination kept us moving, even if that was on a narrow bush track.

Another climb and we were back on the main Camino at Arcade, a pretty little village absolutely full of Pilgrims.

Some more climbing saw us back in forest and at the Camino Portuguese version of the Cruz de Ferro, the Sign de Scallop Shell.

Then more climbing and more climbing.

And then the summit came and went and we descended toward Pontevedra.

And cold beer. Just near the city, the traffic increased and we were glad to walk into the old town where not many vehicles are allowed.

After a rest, Claire heads out for some retail relief, and the rest of us for a drink before dinner.

Steve asking the obvious question – I didn’t order a foil bag, WTF is this?

Claire reunited with her pasta vongoli at last

We rolled out of the restaurant, Il Piccolo, very satiated.

Less than 100km to Go!

Vigo was shrouded in fog again as we rose to start the day.

It was a flat 5km walk into the old town and Vigo was slow in getting moving in this Sunday morning.

As we walked, there were a few drops of rain which were a cause for concern.

Eventually we made our way back to the Camino. There are multiple routes into and through the city.

Maureen on the flying fox. Big kids be kids.

The last few kilometres were by the port, less than pretty, before we made a steep climb up into the hills.

The Camino would its way through suburbs of substantial houses that overlooked the bay. As we walked, the skies began to clear.

After a short break for cool drinks, the path entered the forest for the next few hours. It was cool in the shade.

The valley of Redondela appeared below.

Finally we entered Redondela.

All in all, a lovely day.

Pilgrims, You’re in Danger!

Danger from what? Rogue waves out of the Atlantic? Robbers and Highwayman emerging from the fog?

Not a great way to kick off day 7 on the Camino Portuguese as we wandered off into the fog off Cabo Silleiro.

As the morning began, the fog tried to clear.

Then it would close in again.

After about 5km we stopped at a cafe for coffee and some running repairs on Claire and Steve’s feet which are badly blistered.

They both purchased some sandals in A Guarda and are trying the German approach, socks and sandals.

After an hour or so, we walked into the pretty little village of Baiona. It was here that the discovery of America was first heard in Europe.

There were multiple ways from here to Vigo and we chose to stay close to the water away from endless rows of residential buildings and traffic.

We stopped at an information centre to collect a stamp and asked for advice for a good restaurant. The lady recommended anywhere along Panxon Beach, about another 2 or 3 kilometres. We walked on as the sun began to win the battle with the fog.

On the beach, the local kids seemed to be playing a bizarre game of chase the old Land Rover. They seemed happy.

Lunch was at a small restaurant which served a tasty selection of tapas.

After lunch, we made our way to Pazo Los Escudos, a tidy little place on the waterfront at Vigo.

After a shower and a siesta, we wandered into Vigo’s old town with a few thousand others.

As the sun set, the town filled with people and came alive.

I guess Machado was the bloke with the blowup doll strapped to him. Game Over

Down by the harbour is the Vigo Casino centre. It was a little lifeless after the old town, so we left after using the facilities.

Back in the old town we had a lovely dinner at Taperia Paparota.

It had been another big day, so we headed home for one last night cap before bed just as the fog rolled back in.

Oh, as for the danger to pilgrims, apart from the danger of over indulging, there was also this.

Yep, bloody cyclists were the danger out here on The Way, who’d have guessed.

The Rain in Spain

After a less than ideal night in the Hotel Celta in A Guarda – one pillow between 2, threadbare sheets that both Maureen & Steve and Claire & I ended up tearing – I was up around 7:00, restless to get outside.

There were a few drops of rain, so I checked the forecast.

Shouldn’t be too bad, I thought, so set off into the darkness.

I’d almost forgotten that the Galician markers go to 3 decimal places. That’s right, 3! Because every Pilgrim needs to know to the nearest metre how far it is to Santiago.

Just us out in the dark and cold this morning. Seemed like a solid sort of chap, bit stiff though.

The trail out of town was narrow and close to the water. I looked back and said farewell to A Guarda.

It was cool and pleasant walking. I passed several pilgrims making their way out of town. We all had that look of pilgrims in a desperate search for coffee.

The Way alternated between quiet laneways and the main road.

By now I was getting desperate for a strong coffee and something to eat.

Thankfully a small cafe came into view but it looked closed. Just as I was about to walk past, two Pilgrims walked out. Yes!!!

What a great breakfast. Except, just as I took my first bite, it started raining. Nothing for it but to don the raincoat and grab the umbrella.

It was pretty walking in parts.

Then back to the wet main road.

There were lots of Pilgrims around. I’m not sure if it’s because we’re closer to Santiago or whether a lot of Pilgrims have made their way north to get away from the bushfires.

It was closed, so I trudged on in the rain and amused myself.

When I’d knocked over 20km I stopped for second breakfast. Cafe cortado, a huge glass of fresh orange juice and more Santiago tarte.

In the backroads of a village I came across something akin to the Cruz de Ferro. Most Pilgrims I saw this morning didn’t do the deviation up the hill where this was located.

There’s something else I’ve been noticing all along this coast.

I’ve seen a lot of the cabins of boats in backyards. Somewhere to drink sangria perhaps?

As I walked along I listened to the first Preliminary Final between the Sydney Swans and Port Adelaide. The Swannies won. Tomorrow the Cats play Brisbane. Go the Catters!!!

I was a happy Pilgrim when Talaso Atlantico came into view. I’d walked around 26km and was ready for a beer and some lunch.

I’d like to say that after lunch I smashed out another 10 or 15km, but that would be to indulge in deception. In reality, I went to our room and had a sleep.

The view from our room is pretty special.

At 4:30, the four of us went to the massage pool. I’d like to have photos, but you’re not allowed to take them. So here’s a description.

Imagine a pretty large indoor pool with views over the Atlantic. In the pool are a series of spa stations that each massage a different part of your body. There’s also a steam room and sauna as well as a very cold little pool in the middle of the big pool.

For an hour we indulged. By the end we felt like meat that had been tenderised and then cooked sous vide style.

Nothing for it but to have a shower and then go and cool off with a cerveza.

Then have a massage.

Then have dinner.

After a wet start, the day didn’t end up half bad.

Well Drunken, Eats Octopus

After a reviving sleep at Casa D’ Joao, we rose for breakfast. The American ladies we’d met the evening before were also there. We chatted all things USA politics. After their holiday, they’re going back to Pennsylvania to door knock for Kamala Harris. Go you good things!

We all agreed that Casa D’ Joao was a great place to stay.

We had 2 options this morning, stay on the foothills or head back down to the coast. It was decided that the coast may be easier on those with blistered feet, so we meandered our way down the hill to Afife Beach.

From there, it was more boardwalks, tracks and scrubby trails.

Could be a location for the Goblet of Fire maze scene

It was humid and smoky. Occasionally there would be some relief with a cooling breeze.

We made our way into Vila Praia de Ancora for morning tea. The skies were clearing, we left the shade and it made for some hot walking on flat tracks.

The flat track went on and on.

Our aim was to get to Caminha where we would cross the Rio Minho by boat into Spain.

The last 3km were on a dead straight, unshaded trail. Our feet were getting hot and we were all desperate to stop and have a cold beer.

We called a boatman and booked in, thinking we could eat on the south side of the river. When we met him he advised against this, saying the food on this side was crap. Best eat where I drop you in Spain, he said.

Do you trust the ferryman before he’s got you to the other side?

We chose to, even paid him up front.

In the end, his advice was sound. The lunch at Hotel El Molino was exceptional.

Scallops, pulpo, calamares and a steak for Maureen. All washed down with a couple of bottles of delicious white wine.

We were very happy pilgrims, some happier than others, if you know what I mean.

Claire and I had a quick dip after lunch. My guess, the Atlantic was about 15 degrees. Bracing!

There was talk of a taxi for the last few kilometres into A Guarda. Calls were made to no avail, we’d have to put on the wobbly boots and walk. I’m glad we did, it was stunning scenery.

Finally, after 25 or so kilometres, we made it to the Hotel Celta for a well deserved shower.

Yep, sums up day 5 on the Camino Portuguese

So, back to the title of today’s blog, this photo translation says it all. Apparently this is a white wine. When we asked the waiter about this, he shook his head, no good, no good.

The Hazy Day

We woke early at Casa da Reina to be told by our wonderful host that she would be making us breakfast which included eggs and bacon with bread fresh from the local bakery. A great start to the day.

We had an easy walk through the rural area where the locals were warming to their tasks, including a lady who serenaded Steve as we walked by.

Then the Camino started to climb a steep ridge into pine forest.

What goes up, must come down. As we descended we had views of the city ahead, Viana do Castelo, with the beautiful church of Santa Luzia towering above.

It was all barely visible through the bushfire smoke haze.

We entered the city on the south, or wrong, side of the river. It was all a bit grim.

We had a lengthy walk over the bridge to the north.

The north, or old, side of the river was another story. Beautiful old buildings, well kept gardens, it was all rather delightful.

It was all rather beautiful and topped off with a tasty pastile de nata.

Claire was after a second walking stick, so we went off piste and found ourselves on the retail Camino.

With a second stick, we were ready to ascend to the church on the hill.

I would love to say that it’s worth going off Camino, but sadly today, the views from the top were obscured by haze. On a clear day, this would be spectacular. There is also an amazing looking albergue at the summit.

We took a light lunch at the summit before moving on for the afternoon slog.

Steve admiring the electric Mustang. Farewell Tesla?

The Camino meandered along the foothills on an area we christened Millionaires Row.

There were many new and Architecturally stylish houses. It was quite delightful.

We also passed many old cork oak trees, their exterior bark extremely hard wearing given the softness underneath.

Blisters started to be the order of the afternoon for Claire and Steve and we had the first aid kit out a few times trying to keep them as painless as possible. That days of long miles are taking their toll.

The last 5km are always the worst, especially when you know there’s a cold pool and chilled wine awaiting your arrival.

This afternoon was no exception. The last little push was on a rough bush track.

There are so many eucalyptus trees you could be anywhere in Australia.

Finally, we arrive at Casa D’ Joao Enese at Afife.

Steve & Claire both have a leg massage, while Maureen has an Alvarinho.

After a shower, we headed to Signor Cod for dinner which of course had to consist of cod.

Lots of cod. And some pulpo (octopus) and steak for Maureen. It was all delicious.

Tomorrow we walk (and boat) into Spain. Our time in Portugal is nearly over.

The Smoky Day

All night we could smell smoke as it wafted into our rooms in Aguçadoura. In the morning we searched news sites to find that bushfires were wreaking havoc south of Porto. All transport into or out of Porto to the south was closed.

Red skies were the order of the morning. The first few kilometres were on boardwalk, something that we’re all a little board of – boom tish!

At least we could eat through the kilometres.

Soon we were on backroads where locals farmed various produce on tiny plots.

We collect sellos, or stamps, in our credencial or Pilgrim’s passport. We need one a day, but we can’t help getting as many as we can from churches or cafes.

Interesting Architecture in many of the local churches.

Our first coffee of the day was in Fao and we really needed it badly. We were smashing out the kms and feeling good. What could possibly go wrong?

The day was starting hot up and the lack of shade made for some tough walking.

We finally found somewhere for lunch. Steve one the biggest meal contest with his nachos burger.

Steve contemplating how to eat his enormous lunch

After lunch was a slog into the country under the harsh Portuguese sun.

Did I mention it was hot? As the afternoon wore on, the temperature seemed to rise and our destination seemed to get further away.

The Way finally entered a bush track through some forest near the Rio Neiva. We had a short crossing before a big climb.

After a huge climb, I reached the church of Neiva. Music rang out from inside and as I waited for the others, I soon realised it was a funeral. Best not rush inside asking for a stamp.

From there, it was a gentle downhill to the village of Chafe and our accommodation at Casa De Reina. We have a reviving swim in the pool next to the vineyard.

They make their own organic wine which is lovely. We enjoy a bottle or two with dinner.

We’re all extremely tired after a huge smoky day on the Camino.

Time for bed.