How To Walk

The one day of rain I was walking on cobbles in Portugal.  I was taking baby steps and still slipping and catching myself with my pole.  I was going carefully up hill when I saw an old woman carrying an umbrella in one hand and a bag in the other coming down hill without any problem.  She was walking with a rolling gate.  I tried to copy it.  Knees slightly bowed out, rolling from side to side with each step and I had no more slipping. 

Today was dry, but there were several steep descents.  I tried the old lady rolling stride again and it worked again.

The best walking surface so far has been the boardwalk on the first few days by the beach.  It flexes just little as you step and it doesn't wear on you like pavement.  Next is the forest walking.  Third is the Portuguese stone pavement.  Kind of like this, but with smaller gaps between the stones.

The stones are unevenly cut or set so you aren't putting pressure on the same spots with every step.  If you take a couple dozen chopsticks, cut them in half, scatter them in a confined space like a bathroom and walk across them in your boots you might get the feeling.  The stones aren't so uneven that you'll twist an ankle, just uneven enough to be surprisingly gentle on your feet.

My feet were discussed at lunch today.  The two Italians and two Spaniards who stayed in the same albergue in Mos with me had plenty of opinions.  My silk liner socks got some of the blame.  I was told that silicon was better, my boots were too small, and I'm not letting my feet air enough all in sign language and a few words of English.  The Italian women did have some foot cream that did seem to help one spot.

Lunch was a bocodillo, a ham and cheese sandwich.  I finally filled a page in my pilgrim passport, so it is included, too.

I'm in a large albergue outside of Pontrevedra.  It was much nicer with a small group of people last night in Mos.

Next task is finding the store.  Tomorrow is Sunday and most things are going to be closed.

The Toughest Thing You'll Ever Do

I have heard that chdbirth is the toughest thing you can ever do.   I have also heard that the Camino is the toughest thing you can choose to do.  The difference is that on the Camino you always have an option, excuse maybe, not to continue.  Yesterday a bus stopped for me, today the way went past several taxi stands, in Portugal there was a rail line always close by, in Spain the highway is here.  I made the 16 km to Porrino by 1:30.  There was an albergue right as I hit town.  I stopped in and asked how far it was to the next one.  He said it was seven kilometers and said it was a good choice if I had that much walking left in me.  It would put me a quarter of the way up the only significant hill and it was about what I had done every other day.  I went for it.  

I somehow managed to blister my right heel yesterday and it was really rubbing today.  The cobbles that I learned to enjoy in Portugal are gone, replaced by asfalt.  I went through my water faster today than any other.  I was done.   The guidebook said the albergue was in  town with the Mary Magdelen font.  The village was long and straight.  I reached the water and sat down.  If anyone had come along and offered me a ride at that point there is a very good chance my Camino would have been done.  Instead i took of my boots and socks and held my feet out to air.  The albergue is right across the street from the bar.  Jasmine, a German pilgrim helped translate so I could get my bunk at the albergue paid, then she shared a slice of her torta with me.  The Camino beats you down and builds you back up every day.

The view from the albergue:

The difference between Portugal and Spain:

The fields are both lined with grapes, but are fallow in Spain and planted with crops in Portugal.

The walking is better in Portugal,  but I only have one day experience.  There is still a lot of walking to do around 96 km to go.

Another 30km Day

Oh, and it was raining, see?

I got pretty good at controlling the rain today.  I put the jacket on and the rain stopped, I took the jacket off and the rain started up again.  One tip for people thinking of doing the camino - stuff your pack full and put water bottles on both sides THEN try to put the rain fly on.  I unloaded and reloaded my pack a few times before I could get the fly to stick, even then it slipped off the top when I put the straps over my shoulders.

Yesterday I had sun during one of my breaks and got my clothes totally dry.  No such luck today.  I am in Valenca, wearing damp clothes, after another 30km day, with a bunch of French, German, and Portuguese pilgrims.  The dorm room stinks!

If you are interested in doing the camino, and then are interested in doing a walk in Portugal, and then are interested in a coastal route I would certainly recommend the last two days -Viana do Castelo to Caminha and Caminha to Valenca.  Even with the rain and the distance it was an incredible walk.

Of course the way didn't go past all the cool stuff.  This tower was a few blocks up hill.

It did pass the entrance to a ritzy hotel outside Vila Nova de Cerviera, a big, locked gate, long driveway, sort of place, then curved around a path right next to it.  There was a gate accessing the place, but it was locked.  I guess damp, sweaty walkers aren't their target clientele.

The path went over a couple of medieval bridges, but the photos didn't really work out.   I've decided that the public laundry, you know, the ones with the stone tubs, are the perfect place for lunch.  They are covered and you can put your feet up.  Here is lunch today -

Sardines, bread and chocolate.  Sorry, pictures of the laundry are on the camera.

I cross into Spain tomorrow.  It is about 118 km to go. I've got one more long day then it is all 20 or so km days until Santiago.

What Can I Say About Today?

I have I pulled out my rain jacket for the first time.

I was misled by a local. 

I was able to ask a question and understand the response (mostly) in Portuguese.

I met two very nice supporters of the caminho.

I felt real pain. 

Last night, what with one thing and another, I didn't get to spend my ten minutes with my feet against the wall.  This is a yoga pose that one of my co- workers showed me.  I had been doing it every night and have had no real issues with my feet.  Today, however, they hurt.  I tried doing the pose when I got to the albergue in Caminha, but had trouble holding it for even five minutes.  Never, ever again.  The feet are going up no matter what!

I managed the distance pretty well.  I've started using the timer on the phone to measure my progress.  If there is a turn in 3/10 of a kilometer, set the timer for three minutes and watch for it.  If there is a font in two km the timer is set for 20 minutes.  I was on a long, staight stretch (timer set for two hours) going into Caminha when a guy pulled up on a bike and asked if I was a pilgrim for Santiago.  I said I was and he said I have a stamp for your credential and information on the route ahead.  He got back on his bike and told me he would wait for me in the little chapel up ahead.  His name is Carlos and he has walked the caminho at least 13 times.  He lives on the trail and has his own stamp that he gives to any pilgrim he can find.  He has a Facebook page dedicated to the pictures he has taken of the pilgrims.   He seemed surprised when I said that I already had his Facebook information.  The map I'm using had a marker and Carlos' information with the word sello (Spanish for stamp).  He gave me detailed instructions on getting to the albergue (if the door is locked go to the snack bar around the corner, ask for Paulo, and he will give you the key, only waste time calling the number on the door if Paulo is not available).

I followed his instructions and was trying to get my feet up when the albergue host showed up.  He is another caminho addict.  Both are members of the Viana do Castelo pilgrims association.  I didn't get the name of the second man, but he seemed convinced I would become an serial caminoist.  Anna, the host from last night seemed to think the same thing, too.  Hmmm.

I have it on good authority that today's walk was the prettiest of the whole way, French route included.  There was a medieval bridge-

-and a sign midway up a long slog-

I have about 143 km to go.

What Else Cam I Say?

Yes, I had a hard time staying on the trail this afternoon, but it wasn't my fault.  

One of the hazards of walking the Senda Litoral is that you are close to the beach, and the beach has sand and wind.  Together they managed to take out the boardwalk.  Instead of backtracking the considerable distance I had already walked I switched to the forest path that went the same direction.  

The first problem was that it was mostly sand.  Walking in loose sand is hard.  The trail kept going up and down dunes.  I was taking small steps and sliding back; I sped up trying to cut down on the backsliding.  It was pretty much a stairmaster.

I was really relieved when the trail hit flat ground.  Or at least I was until the trail disappeared.  I pulled out the phone and pulled up a map.  It showed me that I was really close to a trail or road that looped out of the park.  I head off that way, boldly disregarding the signs that said keep out and do not enter because their backs were to me as I went forward.  I bush wack for 50 feet or so when I come to the junction.  It was a stream ten feet down steep banks and too wide to jump. 

I resigned myself to backtracking through the stairmaster dunes.  Ignoring the front sides of the warning signs, I made my way back to the remains of the trail.  I got there just in time to see a jogger go over a faint trail I one of the dunes.  I followed them and found the boardwalk again!

I'm in an albergue (here it is pronounced al-BERG) with Viktor, a Portugues pilgrim who is walking the coast back from Finisterre.  There is a large church that is on a hill overlooking the city.  I saw it while crossing the bridge.  I'm told that Viana do  Castelo is a beautiful town and is worth spending time here.  I'm also told that tomorrow is a 30 km day, three or four hours longer than today, according to Anna who works at the albergue.  Ha!  If only she knew that 30 km has been my average.  

Done: 85km at least

To go: 170 km or so

This is the poster hanging in the dorm room.  It cracked me up.

To Quote Homer Simpson...

Doh!

I just checked the distance on the map against the one in the guide.  For yesterday's walk the guide said 27km, the map I'm attempting to follow says 41km.  My plan was for 25 km per day.  According to the map I've averaged closer to 32 km.   No wonder it's taking longer and I'm more tired than I should be!

I passed a popular surfing area this morning.  They have a whole series of these booths for changing and storage.  No one was out riding the waves when I went by.  This surfer would have been interesting to watch.

Speaking A Foreign Language

I came to expect a certain response from people in Lisbon and Porto when I tried to speak Portuguse to them.  They smile.  They nod. They respond by asking if I would like to speak English.  Sometimes they even go so far as to claim that they understood what I was trying to say.  Then I get into the smaller places, a bakery or store in a smaller town and they just look confused when I try to say something as simple as hello.  I have always had a problem with pronunciation and it just gets worse when I try to speak any other language.  It is frustrating, but something I expected. 

What I didn't expect was the problems following the yellow arrows.  It seems there is a bit of a conflict between the Camino da Coastal people and those of the Senda Litoral.  Dispite it's name, the Camino da Coastal doesn't always follow the coast.  It takes wide loops inland to go by a church or something.  Whereas the Senda Litoral follows the coast as closely as possible.   Today, for example, I followed the arrows down a dirt road through a eucalyptus forest to a soccer stadium, then more forest and a school.  They took me through a town bypassing all businesses so I couldn't restock my snacks.  Coming into Esposende  tonight the arrows insisted that I cross on the south side of a round-about so as to miss all the direction markers for the cars coming into town, then take you down an alley to go past a church.   What I really needed to see was the direction marker for the tourist information building.  I know this is very un-pilgrimlike, but screw the arrows from now until I join the main route, I'll follow the maps I downloaded.  It should save me about five km per day.

I kept crossing paths with a French couple today.  They had extra time after finishing thieir camino so decided to walk the coast north from Porto as much as possible before they go home.  They didn't have a guidebook or even whatseems  like a map, but were going towards water whenever they could.  I last saw them headed for the beach right before a golf course that my sources said was impassible.

Not many pictures today because the forests and farm lands aren't all that pretty.  This is a stone cross where I headed inland to avoid some sand walking and got kidnapped  by the coastal route arrows.

I have no idea how far I walked today, but the marker about three km ago said 201 to Santiago, so I'll go with 60 down and 198 to go.

That Didn't Feel Like 12 Miles

My first full day walking.  The maps said it was about 20 km, but it feels like more. I walked from 9:30 to 5:30 with two stops and I was done  about three km from Vila do Comde.   The map must be wrong.  I didn't get lost today, I just accidentally decided to follow the wheelchair route instead of the regular one. That had to add a kilometer or ten to the total. 

I was tired and grumpy when I finally arrived in Vila do Conde. All issues melted away when I stumbled into Evora's Tea and Guest House. She showed me to the room and the bathroom is bigger than the ones in the two hotels combined.  She also provides free breakfast for pilgrims.  She is wonderful   

I finally has a chance to wander around town.  There are old churches on almost every  block, there are parks and squares every few blocks, and a huge sundial on the riverside.  I promise you will be incredibly bored with the photos if you are ever dumb enough to ask to see them.  Wandering meant that I was still up and moving when the early dinners were served at 8pm.  Until now I had been living off of sandwiches and fruit that was easy to pick up and transport (no, I don't mean McDonalds).  Tired  now and going to sleep.   Here is the park with the huge sundial. 

Km done: 34 or so

Km to go: 124 or so

First Steps

I was prepared to fall in love with Lisbon and tolerate Porto.   I think I got it backwards.  Don't get me wrong, I really liked what I saw of Lisbon, I just didn't have time to see even the top few things on my list so decided not to be bothered by what I wouldn't see.  Porto, however, has surprised me from the start.  

I was getting ready for bed Friday night when I checked to see when the tourist information office would open on Saturday.  Their webpage took me to a listing of events.  That page said there would be 3D mapping at city hall on Friday every half hour from 10pm to 1am.  I checked to see where city hall was and it was 6/10 of a kilometer away. I threw on shoes and asked the reception desk for directions.  They said they didn't know of any events, implying it was a waste of time, but gave me directions.  (If you haven't heard of 3D mapping check YouTube for the one done at Santiago de Compostela.)  The show wasn't as intense as I expected, but it was being done for the Saint John festivities so I am giving them a break. 

Saturday morning I headed for the cathedral.  I turned the corner just a block from city hall and the cathedral was revealed, seated on the top of a slow sweeping hill with fortress like walls.   Even the dozen tour busses couldn't diminish the moment.  Lisbon's cathedral was surrounded and dominated by the buildings around it; Porto's was something that took your breath away. 

I followed the yellow arrows for about five minutes when I came to another church with tremendous views of the city.  I wandered a few minutes and came across a street market, but then chose to visit another church first and never got back to the market.  The church, right across the street from another church, led me to the river walk.  A few hours later I was at Matasinhos, a 20 minute subway ride from my hotel. 

Tomorrow I'll jump the subway back and start walking.  

Here is the Rio Douro where it enters the Atlantic Ocean.  

Twelve km down, 245 to go.

Navigating

I find it difficult to navigate without a familiar reference point. I ended up seeing a whole chunk of residential areas unintentionally in Lisbon and in Porto I took what I thought was a right and it turned out to be straight ahead. Kind of like making three lefts instead of a right.  It did allow me to find a neat church that I want to go back and photograph tomorrow. 

I heard that there are now yellow arrows showing the way along the coastal route and, based on my initial experiences in Lisbon and Porto, I will really need them.

I did a wander through the Rossio district before catching the train to Porto. I picked up a credential at the Lisbon cathedral and got their stamp. It is in Spanish. I'm tempted to go to the Porto cathedral to see if theirs are any different. 

First stop tomorrow is the tourist information office for a listing of pilgrim lodgings along the coast. 

Here is the view for the next two nights -

Better?

What's The Worst That Could Happen?

Before I left on this adventure several people tried to boost my confidence by asking, "what is the worst that can happen?"  They usually  cited loss of pack.  Second was a missed flight.

I had 55 minutes between scheduled  flights. The trans Atlantic flight landed15 minutes late.  My connection was in a different terminal, I had to go through customs, and get rescreened, but they had handy signs that said it was only 22 minutes walk to J terminal. The plane was still at the gate  when I got there, but the door had closed.

Two hours later I'm on the next flight.  Is it normal for planes to lurch sideways while moving down the runway?  At luggage claim the belt stopped with about 20 people still waiting.  We were told to wait ten minutes and the bags would be released.  Sure enough two bags came out.  We were told to file missing luggage reports.  You could see those staff people were not about to fill out all those forms!  Some sort of manager came out and said our pallet of luggage had been selected for rescreening and it would be released within 30 minutes. 

On the plus side I have successfully used the subway and made it to the hotel, showered, washed the clothes I had been wearing since 4am on Wednesday, am about to go for a walk.

I get a kick from my hotel room view-

Training

I have been walking home from work in a vain attempt to replicate the conditions and distances I expect to encounter on the camino.  The Portuguese route is infamous for the amount of pavement walking.  The walk home from work is all city streets.  The Portuguese route requires 20-25km (about 12-15 miles) or more most days.  The walk home is about seven miles, plus I do anther three or four without the pack.  

This is Tuesday, waiting to cross the street a little more than  three miles from home.  This is the last light to wait for and marks the change from relatively busy streets to quiet, residential streets.  The walking always seems to come easier after this point.  It shouldn't be - it is the end of the miles, you're hot, you're tired, things ache, and there are only two places to stop between here and home if there are any problems.  On the camino it seems that you stop for coffee, snacks or meals frequently.  I once offended a pilgrim by saying that I was planning on getting most of my miles done in the AM with just three or four done after lunch.  "But then you'll miss second breakfast!" was her response.

This is is pretty much the complete gear set up I'll take to Portugal.  All was well and good until I carried home a sleeping bag loaned to me by a coworker.  The bag weighed almost nothing in my hand, but tie it on and all of a sudden my pack was staggeringly heavy!  I huffed and puffed going up hills that had given me no trouble on the prior days.  I felt the weight on my knees from the moment I left the office.  I must have looked awful because cars, at street crossings where you usually have to wait for several cars to pass before crossing, were stopping well back from the intersection and waiving me across.  Yet I got home, washed the sweat and dirt off, rinsed my walking clothes, and put my feet up and I felt no different from the prior days.

All that is left is to go through the gear and take out the items that aren't truly needed (do I need a headlamp when the phone gives off plenty of light?) and replace heavier items with lighter ones (what is the weight difference between a five litre and ten litre waterproof bag?).  And print the maps.  And figure out how to deal with the eight hour time difference.  And buy the train ticket from Lisbon to Porto.  And make a bag to hold my pack and pole.  And treat said bag so it will protect my pack from bedbugs.  And, and, and...