My top bunk was in a room of about 30 people, and there was snoring galore, but I stuffed my earplugs deep and slept OK.

Things get a little frantic when that many people try to get ready in the morning, so I schlepped everything outside to pack in the courtyard and was walking by 8am, just after first light.

The guidebook said the next section of the Camino was confusing and had multiple options. Part of the confusion came in because shop owners and cafes started putting their own yellow arrows out, even when they are not on the route, and the path has changed a bunch, so pilgrims will find many misleading cues for the path. I decided to stick to the sea, so set off and immediately met a few women from Idaho, and then a couple more from California.

The walk was very scenic, and there were fantastic views into the mountains around and some islands just off land. I stopped for my morning treat and saw that many other pilgrims chose the waterfront walk, too. Today was slated to be the longest of the trip at almost 18 miles, so I wanted to go slow and steady and was trying to keep the back happy. But as it turns out, I didn’t walk them all. I knew from the beginning that if my body or brain wasn’t having it that I would hop in a taxi and jump ahead. I was just getting ready to leave my morning coffee stop when Ignatio showed up.  It had been a few days since I had seen the boys (and by boys, I mean retired guys in their late 60s), so I joined them at their table and started walking with them again.

We cruised along the coast, sometimes forced up and inland in steep climbs when there was a private house or rocky shore, and we stopped a cafe a while later snd dipped in for a break. The sun was hot today and would only get hotter. I met some folks from Sacramento who were very familiar with Bend and had a nice chat. The talk inevitably turned to food, and Ignatio insisted that Adrian and I must try barnacles. I said ok, I was here to have a grand adventure, even if it was culinary… We thought about restaurant schedules and the miles we had left to walk but the math didn’t compute for getting to town before the restaurants closed for their 4-8pm break, so someone suggested hopping in a bus or cab to Vigo (to their well-known seafood restaurants) and then bussing back after lunch. I said, “Let’s go!” but elaborated that i didn’t need to bus back….I’m not getting precious about continuous footsteps out here. So before we knew it we were at a bus stop and for 1.63 euro we were on the way.

The bus kept to the waterfront for the most part, so we did experience what the pilgrims we passed did, but without the sweat and fatigue. I had needed to mix things up, and even though I walked about 10 miles, I could now consider this my rest day 😅.

I am so glad Ignatio is from Spain, because he polled the people on the bus about where we should get off and eat our seafood. We arrived in the middle of Vigo and just walked a few steps to our restaurant where we had an amazing meal of muscles, razor clams, squid, and more. We splurged, and it was everything I could have wanted from a fun “rest” day on the Camino 💃💃. We even had dessert!!

After lunch, we were excited to find that we were close to our hostels for the night, so I said my goodbyes and checked in.

After a shower and a lie down, I was ready to explore a bit and happened on the happening place! The shopping area was teaming with people and I sat and people watched for a while….comforted by such a big city and people who were completely unaware of the stress and angst of what it means to be an American these days. Well, I’m sure they are aware. Thanks to globalization and the 24hr news cycle 😒. We’re kind of all in this together.

After watching an amazing sunset I fired up the tablet to watch a movie, and was half way into it before I realized it was yet ANOTHER movie about someone dying from cancer, and after crying a bit I wondered, what about the stories of people who live with cancer? What about people like me and Pam and others who are doing better? Where are the radical remission examples? What has been so powerful about having Pam in my life and listening to the Radical Remission podcast is knowing that not all of us die right away. There can be life after diagnosis. There can be a long life after diagnosis. We need these stories of people who succeed. Is that my story to tell? I guess I’m already telling it here!

The time change is odd. Spain is only an hour ahead of Portugal, but it’s dark when the clock tells me it’s time to walk; I waited for the light before setting out this morning.

There was a mixture of surfaces – dirt, yellow brick road, gravel, and a bit of tile in the town of Oia. I would definitely come back to Oia, it had such a charming feel, but I kept walking, not quite ready to stop for a break yet.

There were horses and cows, farmed plots, and terraced gardens along the way this morning. Finally, at the two hour mark, I was feeling a strong urge to sit down and saw a sign for a restaurant. I stumbled in and ordered a cappuccino and croissant. I’m tired today. The legs are tired; the back is tired. I’ve been walking a week now, and I don’t have a rest day scheduled, but it should only take me another week to finish, so I’ll keep going.

Then more walking. I listened a few episodes of the Sarah Silverman Podcast to help me get through the hot afternoon, especially as the path climbed up and up through a burn area! I had heard that Portugal had fires this year, and I walked through the aftermath of one. The ground still had that acidic torched smell.

Then, on the other side of the climb, we went down and up and down through back roads. I could see that many pilgrims stayed on the bike path, but joke is on them because the way will be longer to walk around the peninsula that I just avoided by climbing up to a saddle, but then again, I had to climb and they didn’t.

I was knackered when I got into Biaonia and found the first bar I could where I could sit down and have a cold drink. The bartender gave me a few oysters on the house with my order, how lovely!

I made my way through town to my hostel, checked in, and changed for a stroll along the oceanfront. There was an old castle and lots of touristy things about. I had dinner at one of the few open places (in Spain, many restaurants close between 4pm and 8pm. People don’t eat dinner until 8 or after!!! That is bedtime for me…) I sat next to a girl from Belgium and her Argentinian boyfriend who work in Norway as guides and were down here on holiday.

Then back to the hostel. It’s still light out, but I’m ready for bed 😶

I was up early, but since we had the apartment to ourselves, I made myself some coffee and did some writing. I thought I was going to be doing most of my writing on my tablet, but it has been far easier to take out my phone and write little bits throughout the day, so the tablet has stayed in my luggage for the most part.

I left the apartment (shout out to Xicotina for the excellent accommodations!) and walked the final few miles to the water taxi and the end of the Portugal section. For six euros, a boat takes pilgrims across the Minho River to an entirely different language and culture. Let’s go!

On the other side, as I was debating if I should stick to the yellow line or walk along the water and a few other pilgrims were discussing the same thing, so I teamed up with Marina, a German girl who lives in Vienna, and Alfanso, from Rome. The three of us traced the contours of the Spanish coast while Marina played translator because Alfonso didn’t speak much English and I didn’t know Italian.

We arrived at the first Spanish town, bypassing the first cafe we came to, assuming there would be many others, but everything was closed! We had walked far enough that we didn’t want to backtrack, and even after talking to locals, we thought we were out of luck. Finally, we climbed up into the town to find a small market open that would make us coffees.

The look of the town was different right away. The buildings were tall and slim, a notable change from the look and feel of the Portuguese buildings I had seen. Both were beautiful in their own ways.

The three of us split up a short while later as I wanted to sit and relax a bit, and the other two had farther to go than I did.

The path got rocky, and the coast was much more rugged than what we had just experienced to the south. I enjoy how much variety there is in the types of walking we get out here; it was a beautiful day, especially when the sun finally made an appearance.

Soon, though, the way popped out on a busy highway, and the pilgrims were relegated to a strip of yellow pavement that was very taxing on the feet. The Yellow Brick Road song from the Wizard of Oz got stuck in my head. When I got to the next town, I realized I was already where I needed to be for the night.

The one cafe in town was closed, but I made my way over to the patio to find a place to relax for a few hours before I could check in, only to find it was open! In fact, one of my fellow housemates from last night was there, so I had a seat and we caught up. Richard is from England and we had a wonderful conversation last night about conservation, volunteering, and grants…it sounds like we have a very similar background and interests…in fact he works in Eco Therapy…probably very similar to Wilderness Therapy. I didn’t get a chance to ask him more about it, but I’m sure our paths will cross again, and maybe we can talk more.

I got a sandwich to go because I didn’t think there would be any food options where I was staying, and lingered until I could check into the apartment I had rented for the night. I have another luxurious night to myself.

This place had the best view of the trip by far!!! 10 stars!

It was party time outside my hotel window last night. The waiter at dinner told me it was a festival to bring more tourism in before the slow season, and folks were tying one on! I put my earplugs in and got some good sleep despite the band practically playing right outside the door.

The hotel didn’t serve breakfast until late, this being a weekend and all, so I walked a few steps towards a main street and found an open cafe and plenty of other pilgrims fueling up for the day. I exchanged hellos with a group from Croatia and devoured yet another new pastry.

I had a choice between the coastal route, which stayed inland, or the cultural route that went to the coast. Ironic, no? I would have my first 15-mile day if I kept to the yellow line, so decided to stay true to the coastal line (which meant not walking along the coast) confused yet? The big question was how my body would do with 15 miles. There was only one way to find out.

All morning, I played spy the yellow arrow; some were much more obvious than others. Can you see it here?

Or here?

For days, the arrows have reminded me of the scene in Labrynth where Jennifer Connely drew arrows on the cobblestones with lip stick, and some naughty goblins would immediately turn them around the other way. Could I trust these arrows?

My lower back has started to protest, so I walk carefully and slowly to keep it happy. I’m glad I brought some biofreeze and have started to take some pain meds when it really starts to make life uncomfortable.

It was very misty and humid all morning, and I walked alone with my thoughts in and around the neighborhoods. Then, the way transitioned into eucalyptus lined paths, and the air smelled devine. I’ll be in Spain tomorrow already! The days are moving right along, and I’m doing my best to stay present.

When I turned a corner around lunchtime and found the most charming garden cafe, I just had to stop. It was by far the most pleasant oasis I’ve seen on the trip. I ordered a green tea and salad and was pleasantly surprised to get a tomato and quinoa salad. Tables were in short supply, so I offered to share mine with a couple from Norway.

After that, I continued walking on my own. It was a day of walking without thinking… a walking meditation. Sure, the time outside here allows for a deep dive into all your problems, but being present to the cobblestones under your feet, the yellow arrows marking the way, the breeze cooling your skin, has a way of making those problems seem less pressing. You can think about them another day… or maybe not at all! It was a wonderful afternoon.

When I got to the town of Lagarteria, people were amassing, and I spotted Bill and Michelle at a café, so I worked my way over to them for a beer and a visit. Michelle voiced just what I had been thinking about. This was her first long walk, and she thought she’d get her life sorted out here with all the hours in the day to mull over her issues, but she hadn’t. It was enough to just walk. I expect the subconscious does work on your problems while your awareness is distracted by the mouth feel of another pastry, or when you stop to smell the heather that lines the path, but even if it doesn’t, what a blessed break from having to think all the time. You can be. You can simply be.

Back to the town…it seemed that a festival of sorts was under way, and later after we parted ways it appeared we were walking down a path of people lined up for a parade, and the parade wasn’t us, so we quickly hopped off the street. I lingered, and soon I saw a marching band come by. It was pretty cool!

I continued on to find a full blown carnival happening. Maybe this was the same celebration from last night’s city? It probably had something to do with a church holiday. Someone handed me a pamphlet, but my paltry Portuguese didn’t clear up the mystery.

I walked a few more miles back on the ocean and spied Adrian and Ignacio on a break. We were all tired from our day, so we only chatted for a few minutes before I left them and walked a little farther to the hostel.

Turns out i had booked a room in a private house again, but it was a separate apartment with two other pilgrims and myself. We each had our own room. What a nice surprise! And there was a washing machine, so i took advantage of it for the first time on the trip. Fresh clothes for me tomorrow!

While resting my sore back on the heating pad, I read a devastating article about the uptick in lung cancer in young women who had never smoked, and it took my breath away. It’s easy to forget my Stage 4 status when I’m doing things like this – even when there are constant reminders like the ache in my back and my neck scar. I still can’t believe it is happening to me, even after all I have been through this year.


I ate dinner on the beach in a little cafe and indulged in pasta and shrimp…this whole trip feels like quite the indulgence and my body and mind are waking to it. I mentioned to a few friends before I started this journey that it feels like my body is turning on again. That I didn’t know aspects were gone until they came back…definitely the joy found in food fits in here. I was nauseous or had no appetite for most of this year, but now I do have a bit of a sweet tooth again and really savor food. Ok, sure, part of that may be driven by the hunger of walking every day for a week now, but it had started before the trip. Then there is my skin. It is softer than I remember it being in a long time. I’m taking hormones now, and I think it’s bringing moisture, fullness, and life into what had become dry and brittle skin without me realizing it. Im turning on! I’m coming back to life! What a fabulous feeling it is…to be alive.

I had so many vivid dreams last night, and in the morning felt very rested. The Marinhas B & B put out a wonderful breakfast, and I had my first Pasteis de Nata heated up….the warm custard and flaky crust took this treat to another level! Mmmmmm.

Today’s route stayed up in the hills away from the ocean, and I loved walking through neighborhoods again. Roosters crowed, and it was a delight to see how different houses bedazzled their homes with vivid paint colors, exotic tiles, and curious sculptures. There was so much to see.

Then there was trail! Real trail in a forest! I had to put on some David Bowie and do a bit of frolicking through the forest to Let’s Dance.

Then the route climbed and climbed up to a beautiful church where I got a stamp for my pilgrim passport and had a coffee with a couple of women from Holland. The day was stunning and views of the hills made the climbing all worth it…plus it felt good to use some other muscles to walk, sometimes the flat is too flat. I chose to wear my chacos today, but brought my shoes just in case my feet needed a break later on.

Just as I was getting ready to leave, Adrian and Ignacio walked up. So I chatted with them while they took a break, and we walked together the rest of the afternoon. There was more trail and lovely forest, then many miles of cobblestone streets which took quite a toll on all of our feet.

We had a quick beer break in a slim sliver of shade and then started off again. I learned Ignacio had strong convictions about staying in the municipal auberges, and would not reserve ahead of time, thus the rush to get to there by 2 or 3 in the afternoon for a good chance at getting a bed. It reminded me of the early days on the AT, where folks would rush from shelter to shelter to get a spot, especially if it was raining! Again, that is not my style, but I decided to stick with them for the day.

We started down a steep grade to our next town of Viana do Castelo, and the town just didn’t get any closer. All of our feet were screaming at us, and we finally took a short break on a picnic table where I put my shoes on, a bit too late, for they were very sore.

And then the bridge, and then town. We split up. They went in search of their night’s stay and I found a seat at a café and called Kirk. The eight hour time difference meant he was just getting the day started as mine was winding down. Turns out he won an electric scooter at a work event yesterday, so that will be fun to try out when I get home!

Then I took to the streets to find some seafood for dinner. I was already treating myself to a hotel room and a shower, I might as well go big!

And I found a lovely place that was open for early eaters like me, and they were even playing Gen X music like Tears for Fears. Yes please!!

Finally I meandered over to my hotel (I’m splurging tonight!) and checked in. I couldn’t get any of the electricity to work, but took a shower and short nap before calling the front desk. Apparently you put your room key card in a slot by the door to turn things on. Huh! I’ve never seen that before!

I capped off the night with some apple crumble, and later in the hotel, some Netflix and chill. Luxury!

Another night in the top bunk, but I slept alright despite needing to climb down a few times during the night for the bathroom.

Outside? Fog. Thick fog. I could barely see the ocean but the route veered away anyway and took a route through thick, tropical forests and gardens. We seem to be walking through a series of vegetable gardens and green houses. It’s quite lovely…I enjoy seeing all the food growing. Even better? The morning smelled like basil.

We had a mile or so on the slick wooden boardwalk before transitioning to cobblestone. Both surfaces are impressive feats of engineering. The boardwalks make up 80% of the route so far, si much work must go into keeping it up in this damp costal environment! But it keeps the sand out of my shoes and ill take it. The cobblestones look like they were all cut by hand and gridded out into patterns. Wow. I have to much respect.. although I can only imagine it would be torture on my neck if I was driving on them.

Speaking of my neck, it’s doing ok! There are times when I can feel every bone in my spine with each step, but I’m managing without popping pills all day long.

Mid-morning found me in the beautiful little village of Apulia when it was just about time for a break. I tried a new style of baked good with my coffee to my stomach’s delight.

On my way out of the cafe, some other pilgrims that actually talked to me! I met Adrian from Rugby, England and and Ignacio from Madrid. I sat and chatted with them for a while, and later down the way, while I was getting a stamp for my passport, they walked up, and we ended up traveling together for the next few hours. This is how I was expecting it would go. The two met last year on the French Camino, became friends, and planned this walk together. We came upon a few other pilgrims at a café around lunchtime time and ended up joining them for a beer. The girls were here from Belarus, and it was so nice chatting with them and walking for a bit.

They all seemed on a mission to get to the next hostel asap, and I didn’t want to, so when the path took us close to the sea once again I dipped off, found a bench, took my shoes off and ate the rest of my pizza from dinner last night. I am really happy to have folks to walk with, but I didn’t want to be done for the day at 1pm. I’ll be super early again as it is, but there is a pool where I’m staying tonight, and I packed a swimsuit just for the occasion 💃

After airing out my feet a bit I decided to dip them in the ocean and got an ice cream from a little stand. Ahhh, bliss! The sun had come out a few hours ago, so the day was perfect for some sand between the toes.

I didn’t have far to go after my ice cream break, and the last mile was along a busy road where I tried not to get squished.

The hostel is the best one yet. Very clean and white, and there were several bunk rooms but no bunk beds. Whew. Im not a big fan of the bunk beds. I put on my suit for a swim and met Janet and Jim from Ohio. The water was too cold to really swim, so I had a nice time chatting with them for a while. Later, I was in the lounge when another American came over asking about my shirt. I had on my “2024 National Public Lands Day” shirt from the last trail work trip I led about a year ago in Steens Mountain…. right as I was getting sick. Bill was another American out with his hiking partner, Michelle. I ended up joining them, and later, the other American couple joined us, and we had a great time sipping wine, eating dinner, and watching the sun set. Today was a wonderful Camino experience…it’s the people, like it is on most trails, that make the experience come alive. ❤️

After a solid night of sleep, I went downstairs to the breakfast Maria had prepared. As she usually has up to four guests per night, there was no way I could eat the whole spread: fruit, yogurt, cereal, bread, eggs – but I did my best 😁

I had a lovely chat with my hostess – she had just moved to Vila Chã from Porto this spring and started hosting hikers soon after. She had tried the Camino herself until an injury took her off the way, and now she brings the Camino to her! I told her about the trail angel culture in the US and assured her she qualified. She offered me help at any point along the trip, especially since Santiago is only an hour or two drive away
🤯.

We talked a bit about the heavier things in life… the reason I was out here and hiking without a pack, and she shared her struggles with the death of her husband. She advised me not to focus on the past, including the possibility of getting sick again, and instead go forward. She is so right. There are many metaphors out there, but each step on the Camino is a step forward. Pam, my friend at home who is about 6 months ahead of me in her healing cancer journey, likens it to white water rafting. Instead of looking at the rocks you don’t want to hit and will surely cause disaster, look at the way through – the green tongue. And in skiing trees, the very first thing Kirk taught me, look for the openings: look where you will go, not where you will smash into branches. So yes, I’m looking forward. I’m taking the chemo port out and living as if there is a tomorrow.

I was back on the boardwalks this morning and enjoyed the quiet of dunes and waves before reaching the next large town of Vila do Conde, where I would enter the city for a short spell away from the sea. Surfers tried to catch waves before I got to town, and the numerous signs made me look up the Portuguese word “onda,” especially since I was wearing my “Get ONDA trail” Oregon Desert Trail shirt today. Turns out it means wave. Hmmm, “Get wave trail” – not the best translation, perhaps “Get on the wave?” Or “The wave is the trail?” 🤔

Once in town, I had many choices of where to go, and it being time for a coffee and sit-down, I went in search of a cozy spot and found Villa Cake, where I indulged in a chocolate éclair today instead of my usual custard pastry. I’ve been eating pretty modestly, outside of my morning indulgences, but I definitely need to splurge on a nice seafood dinner one of these days…I’m surrounded by the freshest of fresh!

A few stands of jazz escaped onto the patio where I enjoyed my morning treat, and it prompted me to put on the Kind of Blue album that I used to listen to all the time in college. That will be some nice company as I walk through town.

Because I chose to stay in town instead of walking directly to the coast, I enjoyed a glimpse into day-to-day life in coastal Portugal. This is a tourist seaside town which features a casino of all things!

Once back on the waterfront, I walked up to a couple who were wearing Hyperlight packs… a Maine company, asking if they were from the states, and sure enough, they lived in Denver. Earlier in the day, I chatted with a fellow who was wearing Altra shoes and a Gossamer Gear pack. He was from the Czech Republic and said he had met so many Americans out here, and said I must visit Prague… I’d love to put that on my list, for the travel bug has bitten! An old friend from Portland, Barbara, is Czech. Perhaps I could look her up for a visit?

The rain, or drizzle, started again after lunch, but it was intermittent and warm enough that I quickly overheated in my layers of gear.

Tonight, I will be staying in a relatively new Auberge, back to the dorms for me!

I’ve been medicating myself with memes on my breaks, and I loved this one:

My friend Dana sent me a Frida Kalo book that I haven’t started yet. I’m eager to get into it when I get home!

Fast forward to my Auberge experience..ok, I 100% understand and support walking without a planned lodging option each night, but I was the LAST to check in for my reserved spot at 4pm. AND many pilgrims were turned away from the place. I got to the lodging “late,” but when I went into the bunk room, people were just listlessly lying there with nothing to do because they needed to stop so early to get a place to stay. Coupled with the fact that many places here don’t open for dinner until 7 or 8pm, and I’m like, WTF? What do you do for HOURS before dark, or dinner, or whatever? I sat in the lounge and chatted with a gentleman from Austria who is hiking this route for the third time, having hiked the French route 3 times already too, and I just don’t understand stopping so early if there is nothing to do and people aren’t hanging out? They are on their phones? What am I missing? And I’m on my phone because there is no one to talk to…I invited my bunk mates to the pizza place down the street, and no one took me up on the offer. Ok, to be fair, I get there and it’s closed for another hour…I like to eat dinner at 5pm, so American! I’m in bed by 8 or 9pm, what’s wrong with that? Not sure what the purpose of this rant is, other than this is not the place for early birds. I guess I’m the one who needs to do the adjusting 🤔

The rain started, so today will be wrapped in plastic, strike that….I will be wrapped in plastic. This is why I brought a zip lock of zip locks, my raincoat, umbrella, and rain pants. I decided to forgo the pants as it seems more of a warm drizzle than anything, plus I’ll be able to put on dry clothes tonight. What luxury!

I walked over the bridge spanning the harbour at Rio Leca, and was enticed by a café with a covered porch claiming they would stamp my pilgrim passport. Done! I needed my daily cappuccino and pastry anyway. This pastel de nata was much more custardy than yesterday… I will be an expert on these before Im done!

The drizzle continued all morning and made for a mysterious walk. Fog obscured much of the landscape, but I could tell the sea was turbulent today. I was on a wooden boardwalk for the most part, and stepped carefully because I know wet wood is among the slickest surfaces out there.

Today was much less urban, and the path took me through dunes, past many historical markers, and small little villages. We are still on the outskirts of Porto and a note in the guidebook about a metro stop into the city remind me of that. Anywhere is walkable if you have the time!

My body is holding up, although there is an ache in my lower back that has been haunting me since I loaded up my lumbar pack for a test run last week. It’s manageable, but I took some pain meds at a morning tea break. I can’t drink coffee and eat pastries all day…I dont think my body will like me much, so I was on a quest for a nice salad for lunch.

Still not much interaction from folks, but in the spirit of being in the moment and receiving what is given, I will continue in my solitary bubble, grateful for the chance to be with my thoughts.

And I found my salad! Right when the sun came out and the sky dried up, I sat down for a rest in a beach café and ordered a nice green salad. They like to put corn on the salads here, no complaints here! I was doing some reading and realized my stay tonight was at a bed and breakfast, or in a woman’s home. Check-in time wasn’t until 6:30pm, so I had gobs of time and had already walked over half of today’s mileage. Again, I could have walked more, but am staying with the itinerary I had already mapped out. It would be a real hassle to change it now with the luggage transfer and all…

So the afternoon was quite lovely, and I even popped open my sun umbrella for a while.

I walked through the charming village of Vila Cha and found a place for a bite and more reading before I could check in. I was surrounded by local families, which was quite nice, and lingering at a table for an hour or two was quite common, so I felt comfortable in my daudle.

When I arrived at Maria’s house, I found I was the only guest, quite a nice change after having been crammed in small rooms with lots of bodies the last few nights. I showered and used my travel heating pad on my neck and shoulders. What luxury!

I was up too early by European standards. I went in search of a place to write in the hostel and ended up overlooking the train station as described yesterday. I watched people start and finish adventures before the first coffee shops opened. How do they manage? How will I manage? Writing uncaffeinated will be an experience.

I hung around until the hostel’s free breakfast at 8am, having dropped my suitcase off at the front desk for the luggage transport folks, and headed up to the third floor for a spread of rolls, meats, cheeses, and a few other random items.

I was walking back up to the cathedral by 8:30 and started down the steep stairs, where I would meet the river for my walk to the sea.

Joggers, bikers, and other Camino goers were also on their way, walking with the low tide. I thought I’d spy a café right away to stop for my first break, but I didn’t find an open one until I was almost at the ocean. There was no need to rush…I had only planned 6ish miles on my first day cause I didn’t know how the flights and my body would do, but I have gobs of time and more than enough energy…I’ll have to saunter and take lots of breaks today.

I ordered another Pasteis de Nata and a cappuccino for morning break. I learned from my friends Sage and Adam, who made a trip to Portugal a few years ago and walked some of the Fisherman’s Trail on the south coast, that each of these Portuguese pastries is unique and takes on a slightly different flavor. This morning, mine was served with cinnamon on the side, and I could definitely taste more nutmeg than the one I had yesterday. Yes please!

From there, I strolled to the sea and rounded the corner from river to ocean. The day was warm, and people were walking everywhere. I spotted other Camino walkers, but everyone kept to themselves…this is not as friendly an experience as a long trail, probably because there were so many people. A linear trail in the wilderness filters the serious walkers from folks out for a stroll in an urban setting. I’m not sure how I feel about that yet. Seems very easy to avoid engaging at all 🤔, but Im not here to be in my own echo chamber the whole time, so I’ll have to make a more concerted effort at truely meeting my fellow pilgrims.

I was making too many miles, so stopped and stared at the water from time to time. I could have walked further, but will on every other day after this one, so I’m trying to be OK with easing into it. Old habits are hard to break!

I visited an old fort that was named for a block of cheese (really!), and watched surfers in Matosinhos. Curious art lined the path and lots of sun bathers braved a cool breeze to soak up some rays. It appears that rain is moving in tonight and tomorrow, so I’m glad my first day was a dry one.

I checked into my next hostel, and the room with six bunk beds was so small that only one of us could really unpack at a time. I walked around aimlessly for a while, trying to decide if I wanted dinner or not, and ultimately decided to get a slice of pizza from a local spot. Eh, not the best pizza I’ve ever had, but then again, any pizza is usually good pizza.

I hurried back to the hostel just as the first drops of rain started to fall.  Day one: wish I could have kept walking.

Well, it already happened: the crying at the cathedral part of this trip.

Let me set the scene for you: it was about an hour before sunset. The ocean was out of sight, but the sun had that look about it…that look of a coastal sunset where the light and air just felt sea breezy.

A woman was playing the violin, and tourists continued to come and go from the cathedral’s views over this ancient city. I just couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face. There was something about the moment, and not just the moment when the 30 + hours awake hit me; the moment was probably a combination of almost dying – but not, and being alive, here in Portugal, on the verge of another long walk. I was sobbing at the wonder of it all.

I know I will grapple with these big emotions while on this walk: Why me? Why did I live? Why did I get better so fast? Will I get just as sick again? And it felt lonely being up on the cathedral cobblestones, watching the sun set behind the Atlantic Ocean, not knowing a single person in the city…but I also knew that would change quickly once I met other pilgrims, once I told my story, and once I walked to the next town. But today, it was ok to be alone. Something in this journey had to be experienced alone, and these were my truths to grapple with. As I marinate in them, in the messy, traumatic, and joyful juices of them, I know I’m not alone, that all of you out there are wishing for the best and have my back, and I can feel it. Thank you.

I’m writing this the next day, and am sitting in a silent hostel well before sunrise, sitting on a couch that overlooks the Sao Bento train station. The view is a portal into other trips that will be taken today, and it seems appropriate, watching people get on and off the train – we are all on a journey.

Back at home, before heading off, the past week had been filled with packing and repacking. Switching out gear and switching it back again; I’m sure I’ll still have some regrets about what I did or didn’t bring, but that is the way it is – this type of travel is new to me, and as I’m finding on my first day in Porto, I’m quite glad I threw in things like my little Freerange phanny pack so I had something to walk around town with to play tourist instead of my hulking lumbar pack.

And the fun began as soon as I got on the plane in Newark. Portuguese families sat all around me, and I had no clue what the barrage of quick foreign words meant….especially because I abandoned the Duolingo Portuguese lessons about a month ago when I realized I’d be spending more time in Spain than Portugal. I didn’t have the bandwidth to learn both new languages, so instead, I learned none.

We arrived mid-morning in Porto, and I successfully navigated their metro system to take a train into the city center. I stumbled on the Mercado do Bolhão, a market of culinary delights, where I had my first Pasteis de Nata (a traditional Portuguese custard pastry) and some kind of savory pie bites. I walked around and oogled at all the fresh fruits, seafood, spices, wines, and more.

I still had my suitcase in tow, and next found a sporting goods store to buy some hiking poles before going to the hostel and dropping my luggage…the roller wheels don’t take to cobblestone too well, and it was all cobblestone, narrow streets, and threading between bewildered tourists…me being one of them, of course!

I finally found the hostel, which is in the train station, and from there headed out to find the cathedral and the beginning of my pilgrimage. I walked in circles, chasing steeples, but steeples were in every direction in this hilly town. Instead of the cathedral, I found cute cafes in the nooks and crannies of this puzzle of a city (did I say ancient? It’s one of the oldest cities in Europe). There was so much to look at, and with the sun and steep cobblestone streets added in, I found myself wilting.

I didn’t sleep at all on the red eye to Porto. I even bought a fancy new pillow that was supposed to keep my neck in a good position while sitting upright, but sleep didn’t come.

When I finally found the cathedral, I almost didn’t go in, but then decided I would at least try and get my pilgrimage passport and save a step tomorrow when the grand journey began. I stood in line and sat in awe of the history for a while while I gave my tired body a rest.

Later, finally at check-in time at the hostel, I climbed into my second-story bunk (not stoked on that!) and took a short nap.

I emerged as the day was cooling and found a spot to have some port (as one must do in Porto!) and ordered what sounded like cheese dip and some bread to go with, but instead I received bread and what looked like doritos covered in tomato sauce and melted cheese…with a fork. Ok, not quite what I was expecting, but I ate the chips and drank small tastes of white and the traditional red port while strains of Madonna played in the background. I wonder if they changed the music just because I’m American?

Then back to the cathedral where we started this post; I was back at the hostel before dark, and climbed into my bunk, for the day had ended. Finally.